The Dominator (7 page)

I mulled the question over for a moment, “Not exactly.”

“Then what, exactly?” she had an edge to her voice. She was on the verge of losing her temper. I wanted that. I wanted her to lose her temper so I could bring her in line. I could barely stand waiting for that moment of realization --- that moment when she got an inkling of what she was in for.

“We’ve had no real resistance from your father. He handed you over willingly, knowing you might be married into my family and that you might not be. Even said it was a bit of a relief. My father would like to see me married before he retires and hands over the helm of the family business. I haven’t agreed to anything. He’s given you to me as an option.”

“What if I refuse? Wait, what do you mean a relief?”

“This isn’t up to you,” I answered.

She winced, “Um, yeah, it is. You can’t force someone to marry you.”

“Can’t I?” I gave her a smile.

She frowned.

“Then what if
you
don’t take that option?”

I tapped my index finger on my lips for a moment, assessing her body language. She shuffled uncomfortably, no doubt dying to get out of those heels and away from me. I didn’t want her out of the shoes. I wanted her in them, them and nothing else. I wanted those heels up behind my ears.

“Then I’d get to decide what happens to you instead.”

She let out a slow breath, “And what would that be?”

I smiled, “Could be any number of things.”

“Like?”

I snickered. Her face turned red, she was having trouble hiding how uncomfortable she was. She was trying to mask her anger and her fear. I liked it.

“Could I be… killed?” She asked me.

I raised my brows, “Or worse.”

Confusion swept over her face. She didn’t know what I meant. She doesn’t know that there are things worse than death. She doesn’t know that many women sold into slavery wished for death because of the hell that was their existence.

“So you’re having trouble finding someone to marry?” She eyed me up and down as if I was something she scraped off her shoe, “That’s why you’re doing this?”

I snickered, “Not exactly.”

Tia

He was sitting on that couch staring at me like he wanted to have me for breakfast.  Right now, to me, he looked like what a cunning devil might look like if he were disguised as a handsome man.  Oozing with sex appeal and danger. And deception. And more danger. And arrogance.

He’d come into the ice cream parlor on my last day there and flirted with me. Today he looked like the same guy but acted different --- almost like he was the evil twin. His eyes and his overall demeanor were vastly different. The light and playfulness in his eyes wasn’t there. There was intensity instead, something I could only think to describe as a sort of darkness. Like evil or something.

His body was broad and muscular but not bulky. His arms thick, muscular, and because his sleeves were rolled up to the elbows I could see swirly tribal-looking tattoos on a forearm. His jaw was tight as he assessed me. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t know if I should try to reason with him, to plead for him to let me go, or to sit there and shut up and wait see what his next move would be.

I couldn’t take this pain in my feet any longer. I sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over and loosened my shoes. My feet were freaking killing me. I wasn’t used to walking in heels this high. I’d wanted to look grown up for my high school grad and they definitely helped with that, adding to my 5’4” height. I let them dangle and one fell to the floor. I flexed my toes in relief. I looked up and he was staring at my legs.

I wanted to ask ‘what, exactly?’ again but suspected I wouldn’t get a straight answer, so I said, “I’m, uh, I’m expected tonight at a graduation party. And tomorrow I’m supposed to move into my own apartment, and…”

He cut me off, “Obviously, things have changed.”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out.

“If there’s anything important from your old life, it can be picked up. Or we don’t look back and I replace everything.” He was still looking at my legs.

“So, that means…” I wasn’t getting it. Did this mean he wanted to marry me? He didn’t even know me!

“Let’s see how this goes, call it a trial engagement,” he said, answering my unspoken question, “There are some ground rules. I’ll fill you in on those shortly. Right now I have something to do. It’s best that you stay here until I go over the rules with you.”

“Wait, trial engagement? What if I refuse?”

He snickered and then raised a brow at me challengingly, “You don’t want me to answer that.”

I believed that. A chill crawled up my spine. “So, I’m your fiancé now? Just like that?” I said in disbelief.

Then he gave me a grin, “Just like that.” He got up, and left. He just left me there, sitting on the bed. What on earth?

I heard a text alert on my phone. I pulled it out of my purse. It was Nick.

* Can’t wait to c u tonite ;)  U looked hot today. So who the fuck was that asshole in the beamer?

The door swung back open and Tommy snatched my phone from my hand, “You can have a phone after we go over the rules.” His eyes were a bit crazed as he looked at the screen and then put my phone into his pocket, “You
won’t
be seeing Nick again.” I frowned. The door shut. 

Trial engagement? Based on what, on an order from a mafia godfather? No romantic candlelit dinner with a guy who loved me down on one knee in candle light telling me he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. Nope. Instead I got a forced engagement with underlying threats. Lovely.  What now, though? How could I get out of this without getting hurt or killed or without Dad getting hurt or killed?

Tommy

Her phone rang a little while later with the name, “Mia” on it. I ignored it. Then a text came through from the name “Bethany” with “Where the bleep r u and who was THAT who you left with?” I shut it off. My own phone rang immediately afterwards.  I glanced at the screen and debated rejecting the call but shook my head and answered, “Yeah, Pop?”

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Who do you think will win the playoffs? Shit, what do you think I mean? What about the girl?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” I answered.

“Of course you have, Tommy. Please. Like I don’t know you. You tell me you really haven’t decided and I’ll be a…”

I cut him off, “Pop, give me five minutes, will ya?”

“I’ll give you a few days. Dinner Sunday at my house. If you’re keeping her, bring her with you. Then we’ll celebrate. If you come alone…well…”

I had things to do. The sooner they were done, the sooner I’d be back in my bedroom with her.
“Gotta go, Pop.”

“Okay, my boy.” He said and I could almost see his cocky smile through the phone. I ended the call.

Tia

I was pacing. What else could I do? I was in this bedroom, waiting for him to come and tell me what his rules were.
Rules. Pff.
I couldn’t believe this.

A million thoughts flitted through my brain and I couldn’t think straight. All I could do right now was pace back and forth and back and forth. I could try to walk out and leave but what would happen if I did?  All the scary dudes and the gates and everything made me think it’d just be a waste of my time. But there had to be a way out of this. Could I reason with this guy?

Tommy

I stepped into the bedroom a few hours later and she was sitting on my bed, watching TV. The sight of this girl in my bed stirred my sex drive big time. She’d taken whatever held her hair up out so that it was now hanging down her back like a glossy curtain. Her shoes were still on the floor and she had her feet tucked under herself and was against my pillows, hugging one against herself. Her eyes were a little puffy, most of her make-up gone. She’d been crying.

Her eyes widened at the sight of me. I strolled to the other side of the bed and sat down beside her. I could see she was trying to stay frozen in place but she was failing. She was trembling. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a heart-shaped black velvet ring box. I put it on the bed between us. She looked at the box like it might bite her.

“You’re not ready to wear it yet, that’s fine.  I’ll put it on the table and we’ll discuss later.  Our engagement’s contingent on several things, we’ll see how it goes, but in the meantime there are a few rules. Want a drink? We can discuss.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. I could see that a tear had squeezed out. She was chewing her juicy-looking bottom lip. I was so fucking turned on right now.

Before I could calculate the move, the back of my hand touched the tear. She winced. Involuntarily, I groaned low in my throat. It must’ve sounded like a growl to her. Goosebumps rose on her arms. I pulled my hand back, got up, then walked to the wet bar, dropping the ring box on the dresser on the way.

My room was fairly self-contained. There was a small fridge, a fully stocked bar, an office area, sitting area, ensuite bathroom, and doors that led to a balcony that had a hot tub and stairs that led down to the backyard where there was a pool and patio. Pop had bought me this house and presented it to me a few months ago on my 29
th
birthday as a surprise. I had money to buy my own house, with cash even, but had been content living in the condo. In hindsight, I should’ve known that this, the engagement, was the next step. It had five other bedrooms, quarters for staff, and a two bedroom pool house. Why did I need all this space unless I was starting a family? I was still getting used to the house, having people around all the time.

He’d been inching me toward taking the next step for well over 2 years and now he was gifting me with a bride so that I could easily step in without raising anyone’s eyebrows at his choice to hand me the reins. It’d be my wedding and his retirement party all on the same day.

I poured 2 glasses of red wine and handed her a glass. She now sat with her legs dangling over the edge of my bed and she had a look on her face that told me she was trying to hold it together despite wanting to fall apart. This trait would serve her well as my wife. Through her black stockings I could see that her toes were painted red, the same as her fingertips. Her lips had been the same color when she’d arrived but her lipstick was now gone. I could barely restrain myself to wait to taste those lips and make those toes curl. 

“Come.” I grabbed her hand and led her to the sofa. She pulled her hand away but sat beside me. I noticed she wouldn’t look me in the face. I wanted her to.

“It’s unfortunate that your father put you in this situation,” I said, “And I have no respect for what he did. But that said,
this
is the situation. You were given to me as a gift. That makes you mine.”

She blanched. My heart rate picked up with excitement but I wouldn’t show her that excitement yet, “So, it’s important to me that you understand and follow my rules. Not following these rules is dangerous. Deadly.”

She kept her eyes focused on the carpet.

“Rule number 1, I own you.” Shock flashed across her eyes as they finally met mine and I felt it in the groin so I said it again, “This means exactly what it sounds like. I own you. You’re mine. Mine to do what I want with. This means you obey my orders. If not, you face consequences. Being mine means that if I want you marrying me and I choose to give you everything that’s mine, that’s what happens. If it means keeping you in my bedroom and using you however I want, never letting you see the light of day, that’s what it means. If it means shipping you off somewhere and selling you to a pimp in Bangkok or Tijuana who wants to turn you into a five dollar whore that’s what it means. You need to understand the gravity here and come to terms with this as soon as possible.  The sooner, the better. Any privilege or comfort you get is because I allow it. I can take it away. All of it. Do you understand?”

She didn’t answer me.  She looked back down at the floor and her chin started quivering.

“The concept of ownership might be foreign to you but it’s a concept you need to learn fast,” I said, “Tia, look at me.”

She looked up and what I saw in her eyes was pure and utter defiance. Perfect. A muscle in my cheek involuntarily twitched. I wasn’t ready to reveal all my cards yet but she needed a glimpse. And I wanted to push her, see what she’d do.

I stood up and continued, “Because I own you, I’ll do what I want to you. Since you chose not to answer my question, I’ll reiterate: if that means that I want you to wear my ring and have my babies with the run of this house, you’ll do it. If it means you simply stay tied to my bed until I get tired of fucking you, so be it. I’m in charge. You obey me, things go well. You defy me --- they don’t.”

Fear flickered in her eyes for a beat but she continued to stare up at me, right into my eyes, trying to be brave. I liked it. I liked it a lot. Yeah, I’m a sick fucker. And the only thing scarier than a sick fucker is a sick fucker with power.  If I was going to have to marry to get all the power, I’d damn well get as much pleasure as possible from it. Fear and defiance rolled up in one? She was perfect. Maybe that’s why I’d waited so long. This was coming for me. Her.