Description
"On the ground," Ace instructs, his voice steady and low. I gawk at him, my eyes bugging from their sockets. "You're kidd-" "Do as he says," Viper mutters into his glass. I catch a couple of glances from men across the table, their gazes assessing the situation. Will she obey? I can see the question on their sweaty, wrinkled faces. After a long moment, and without a choice in the matter, I finally oblige and lower myself near Ace's knees like a goddamn dog begging for scraps. He rests a hand on the back of my neck, his grip firm and assertive. This has got to be a goddamn joke. "What," I whisper in a hiss, my eyes locked on the ornate design of the rug beneath my knees. "Am I your fucking slave?" "Yes," He says, matter-of-factly. ♠ ♠ ♠ On a seemingly average night, Wren is dealing with the normalcies of her life-working at her bar, dealing with shitty drunk customers, and counting the minutes until she can go home to her fiancé. Her plans are quickly thwarted when two masked men barge into her bar after closing time. Despite her best efforts, they kidnap her, shackle her inside a desolate farmhouse and keep her as their prisoner. Wren soon discovers that the man she planned to marry wasn't what he said he was--not even close. Because of her fiancé's secret life of drugs and crime, he owes the Russian mob a lot of money, and her kidnappers plan to keep her until every dime is paid. Wren soon finds herself questioning what's worth fighting for. You'd think freedom, right? But that was before Wren knew just what was at stake. Her cold-hearted kidnapper known as Ace--who's not as much of a stranger as she led herself to believe-- soon shows Wren he's not as similar to the devil as he seems to be, and freedom might just be more dangerous than she had expected.
Author's Note // Trigger Warnings
