C4 I'm not a prostitute

I woke up like I was being pinched out of my sleep, my eyes groggily looking over the room and that was when it hit me. I wasn't dreaming, it was real and I'm fucking here. I was still here.

I quickly bolted out of the bed, my hands running through my curly hair. How long had I been sleeping? oh fuck me.

The door opened and one of the girls entered, she looked at me trying to despair what I was doing in the room.

"You're awake? Wallace didn't want to wake you up." She said and I didn't talk to her.

She shook her head and mumbled, "Forgotten how bitchy you are,"

Then she began leaving.

"Is there any other door apart from the guard gate outside?." I asked.

She turned, confused at my question.

"No."

I bit my lower lip and began walking out before her.

Which way do I go from here?. The mansion is damn big and it'd be hard finding an escape route.

I ran down the hall, my legs moving surprisedly fast as my eyes darted around for an escape route. Oh yes, I found the front door, and I'd be running down these stairs to it. My head hadn't clicked on how to run past the front gate with so many men guarding it, oh when we get to the bridge, we'll know how to cross it.

I sprinted down the stairs and looked up at the door to my freedom, and some men were following me up immediately. And they scattered over the hallway. How the fuck did they know?.

That was when my eyes met the surveillance locked around the hall. Oh fuck, I didn't fucking see this earlier.

I turned around quickly and I slammed into a wall, not a wall but a fucking body. I've been caught. My legs grew weak when I looked up, it was the fucking mafia lord's body. I swallowed up.

Confirm fear.

"Who's she?." A man asked. I turned, a man was looking from my slim long legs to my face. His eyes glinted when he met my eyes. He was old, he looked deadly and dangerous. The way he looked at me, I could tell he was a pervert. He even looks older than my father.

"I'd like her to warm my bed." He told the boss. My heart skipped, I'm not a fucking prostitute.

The boss looked down at me, angry that I was fucking going to run away, he commanded his men who'd been standing beside me.

"Take her to my room and tie her up,"

Wait, what?. He's fucking gonna tie me up.

"Hey, you can't tie me up now, I want to get the hell out of here," I shouted as strong hands carried me up and started walking over the stairs as I struggled to flee. He stood there watching me until I was out of sight.

***

The guard dropped me on his master's bed and I tried to scamper out of the bed, the other men grabbed me down to the bed and held me against the headboard.

"Hold her tight, she's fucking strong." The one who carried me ordered them, he took the chain from the bed. He came toward me and handcuffed each of my hands to the bed.

"I'm fucking gonna kill you when I'm out of here," I screamed. They laughed it off like it was a mere threat and walked out of the room. Oh, fuck!. How the hell do I get away from here without being killed?.

Seconds passed, the monster was not seen, minutes passed, I was fucking tired of waiting and hours came, I almost collapsed. I was tired, my arm was hurting like hell and my eyes were closing up. I was hungry.

The door opened, my eyes went wide, I looked up and I saw him strolling in. He reached his table and began taking off his jacket. My eyes met a dark inked tattooed drawing from his left side of his neck down. His white inner shirt covered it up. He took off his gun which he tucked in by the side of his black trouser and dropped it on the table. He turned and began walking toward me.

"What the hell were you thinking?. Do you think you can run away from me?." He asked. His voice hoarse like he'd been yelling for a long time. His shoes made a noise with each step he took.

"Release me and see how I make out of it," I replied to him, in a very hush voice.

He smiled but his smile didn't reach his eyes.

"You don't know where you are, little cagna. You tried to run, you shall face the consequences. You'll warm his bed." (Bitch).

"What?. I'm not a prostitute,"

"But you're not a virgin, are you?." He teased.

I bent my head and responded, "I am," He raised his eyebrows, not believing me. Not anyone believed me because I didn't behave like one.

"Are you lying, trioa?. Not after all I've heard about you." (Slut)

Need I say, he speaks Italian, his accent made it looked like he was born there. I tried to hide the fact that he called me a slut just now, or he'd know I hear Italian.

He asked about me, why would he go around asking about me?. Well, I've made out with a lot of guys in the bars, but I've never gone to bed with them, even if I'd go to a few rooms, I would drug them and make away with their money. This was how I survived, I didn't fuck them, so I'm not a prostitute.

"I am not a whore." I stated flatly. I didn't need to explain my life to anyone.

There was silence. I hope he changes his mind.

"That's none of my business. You're mine, you'll do what I command. Tonight, get ready to lose it."

I underestimated the devil, he was cold-hearted.

"Why?. Why are you doing this to me?. I'm not owing you but my father is. Why the fuck are you doing this?."

He went out of my face and turned his back on me.

"You'll not ask me questions on what I want with you. I own you, so you'll do as I please." He finished, picked his gun and left.

That motherfucker dick handsome face does not own me. No one owns me and the earlier he starts realizing that, the better for us. He must let me go or I will frustrate him. I'll frustrate his life and make him miserable till he lets me go.

I shut my eyes and thought inwardly. He wants me to sleep with that man like a whore.