THREE – FIRE AND SPARKS

MIRA

I watch the stranger's gradually retreating back until it disappears completely into the blackness, trying to grasp the strange turn of events.

"You heard my nephew. Get this girl ready in his chambers like he said, immediately."

I whip my head in Scuderi's direction.

"What? No! I am not a whore. I do not accept this."

He chuckles.

"It is quite funny that you believe you have a choice in any of this, my darling."

Scuderi leans back in his seat while three of his men advance and begin to fiddle with the lock to my chains. Fear begins to hammer a dizzying rhythm in my veins as the hopelessness of my situation dawns on me.

"Scuderi, stop this, please. Please, stop this."

My hands are finally free, but before I am able to put up any form of resistance, one of Scuderi's men grab me roughly by the waist and throws me over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, just like Vanessa.

I struggle wildly against them until Scuderi lifts a finger and the men come to a stop.

He walks towards us with slow, deliberate steps and I struggle to keep myself from lashing out.

Anger, pure and visceral, slams me when I sight the smirk on his lips. The evil bastard.

He stops before my hanging head and grasps my jaw…tight.

"You see, sweetheart, I thought of the best way to punish you. I thought really hard. Then my nephew walked in and it dawned on me. Now, let me tell you a little about my nephew. He is ruthless, unapologetic, and uncaring. He also has no feelings whatsoever. He's been a cold bastard ever since he was a little boy, and that has not changed one bit.

As punishment for attempting to challenge Escobar Scuderi, I am sending you to the Lion's den."

He traces a finger over my sweaty cheeks and I flinch away. I stare at him with hatred in my eyes. I detest him so much right now, it hurts.

"Fair warning, my sweet. My nephew is unforgiving. He wouldn't care if you're hurting, or if you cry. You called me a monster. I really wonder what you would call him then. Good luck and adieu. You might not make it out of his chambers whole. Not many do."

If Scuderi wanted to scare me, then congratulations to him because he has succeeded. On sight, I knew his nephew was bad news.

I'm being sent to the gallows just because of my quest for justice. How did things go so wrong?

Scuderi watches me closely, looking for any signs of defeat. But Mira Fernandez never gives up. I might be scared to death, but I will not cower.

I raise my chin and stare him down.

"No one has ever been able to break my spirit, Scuderi. Your nephew can try. But he will fail…horribly. And I will be back to take my revenge on you and all you own."

Scuderi steps back with an eerie smile on his face.

"Take her away!"

I am blindfolded by one of the three men and led out of the room.

Each step they take brings me closer to the monster that will unleash my doom.

***

After a few minutes of very silent trekking, the man carrying me finally slows down and pushes open a door.

"Where am I? Are we there yet?"

I honestly hope Vanessa is okay. I listened closely on our way here but I couldn't catch any sign of her. Please, let her be safe.

"Shut your mouth, girl. We're here."

Before I can form one coherent thought, I am tossed down on a soft, downy bed. The fall knocks the wind completely out of my lungs and I immediately feel around, trying to understand my surroundings without the benefit of sight.

I hear footsteps coming towards me and I freeze.

"Wh…who's there?"

"Calm down, girlie." Comes the rough voice of one of the goons "just one last thing."

He flips me onto my stomach like a puny rag doll and yanks both my hands painfully behind my back. Ouch!

He proceeds to tie my hands together with some sort of rope, then he eases off and leaves. The opening and closing of the room door signifies that I'm all alone once again.

I have never felt so uncomfortable in my entire life. My face is buried in the sheets while my hands are tied behind my back with my ass in the air. Fear swamps me, making my heart beat a mile a minute. Images of the stranger's cold, gray eyes assail me.

I am in so much trouble.

After a full twenty minutes of writhing and shaking, trying to find a comfortable position and also free myself from the too tight bonds, I hear the door swing open and I freeze.

My heart thuds painfully against my chest as those familiar heavy footsteps fill the room.

The stranger. He's here.

Fear and anxiety battle for dominance in my tired brain, but with those emotions come anger and without thinking, I lash out.

"You said you would be here in the next two minutes, but I have been tied up on this bed for the past twenty minutes. What was the hold up?"

I narrow my aching eyes in my blind fold.

The stranger gets to the bed, then he stops moving. He stays still, so still, I begin to wonder if he had changed his mind and left.

I'm about to call out to him when I feel something cold press against my skin.

A knife? A dagger? It could be anything.

My pulse hammers wildly against my throat and my stomach tightens with dread. The weapon digs into my skin and I begin to beg.

"Please, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. Just let me go. Please."

The stranger moves his weapon ever so slowly over my bare arm. The room is so still, so quiet. The only audible sound is the soft whoosh of my trembling breath.

"Just untie me, sir. Untie me and I will leave on my own. I won't cause you any trouble. I won't even get the police involved. Please, just let me go."

He still doesn't answer. His palm moves to my raised arse and in one swift motion, I hear the weak material of my pants rip.

My eyes widen in horror and for a moment, I do not move. I remain completely still, rooted to the spot. The stranger grips the waist of my pants, ripping it further, and the gears in my brain suddenly kick into motion.

This cannot happen!

I struggle as much as I can within the limits of my confinement, but it is of no use. The stranger completely rips off my pants until I'm only left in my white, lacy panties.

Exhausted and out of breath, I collapse onto the bed. He pushes me over and I land on my back. He then proceeds to rip off my well worn shirt, exposing my bra covered breasts.

I lie quietly, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

For a moment, the room is silent once more. Any other person would have thought him gone, but I know he's still there. I can feel it.

I can feel his eyes on me, burning over my skin like a forest wildfire. Strangely, the fact that I'm almost completely nude and exposed to a total stranger…to this stranger, sends heat straight to my core.

I try to imagine those cold gray eyes accessing me beneath the fringe of thick lashes.

He moves closer and I freeze.

"What are you going to do to me?" I whisper.

He still doesn't answer. His fingers land on my cheek and he traces them over the curve of my lips and my blindfolded eyes.

Anger and fear roil inside me, but underneath all that is desire – soul wrenching, panty melting desire.

Suddenly, he rips the blindfold off my face and my eyes finally come in contact with those stormy grays.

I stare up at him in shock, trying to understand what the hell is going on. He leans over and unties my hands. Before I can make a single motion, he produces a gun from the waist band of his jeans.

"I would advice you to behave. I am not a patient man, and trust me, you would'nt want to experience the consequences of messing with me. Understood?"

I nod silently. He leans over and swoops me into his arms. My eyes are inexplicably drawn to his bulging biceps and veiny forearms. He's a MAN in block letters.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask.

He looks down at me for a brief second.

"Bathroom."

I clamp my mouth shut and let him take me through the glass doors and into the spacious, ultra modern bathroom. He sets me down on my feet with a muttered "stay", and proceeds to the bathtub.

I try to focus on the beauty of the pristine white bathroom but my eyes keep drawing me back to the perfectly sculpted work of art on legs in front of me.

He had taken off his suit jacket sometime after he disappeared earlier. His shirt is unbuttoned and rolled up to his forearms.

I try not to get distracted by the way his slacks mould the perfect contours of his tight ass. Or the way those arms felt while I was cradled against his chest a few minutes ago. Or how I wish that the tapered, lean fingers working the taps right now would run all over my skin instead.

Focus, Mira!!

I slap my palm against my forehead. What is wrong with me? I need to be devising a means to get Vanessa and myself out of here instead of drooling all over the enemy's nephew!

"Strip."

The hard baritone intrudes in my musings and my head snaps up to meet his eyes.

"Excuse me?"

His jaw tightens at my tone.

"I do not like repeating myself, little girl. I said strip."

I fold my arms beneath my breasts.

"I am twenty years old, therefore, not a little girl. And I am not a whore either. I won't do this."

He stares at me for a moment, then his hands go to the back of his jeans and he comes away with his gun. The mere sight of the weapon turns my veins to ice.

But curse my Fernandez pride. I will not go completely naked for this man. I would rather lose a limb.

I raise my quivering chin and face him.

"You can do whatever you want to do, but I will not strip for you. Never!"

His eyes turn dark and his fingers clench into fists. He looks down on me with a face like thunder and my heart beats out of sync.

"You'll regret that." He growls.

He drops the gun on the fancy dresser and stalks towards me, levelling me with a narrow eyed stare.

"You have two options, little girl. Take off the damn underwear or I will do it for you. I promise when I get my hands on you, it would very useless to fight me."

His voice drips ice.

My fingers immediately go to the hook of my bra, my eyes never leaving his. I unhook the filmsy material and on a heavy breath, let it fall away. Something tells me it would be a horrible idea to let this man touch me.

Horrible as per, I could lose all my sense of reasoning and beg him not to ever stop.

My breasts are not anything to brag about, but his eyes darken and I hear his breath hitch as the moderately sized globes come into view.

With my eyes still firmly fastened on his, I roll my panties down my legs until they catch at my ankles, then I step out of them. I do not bother to cover myself up. This stranger has seen more parts of me than I have ever shown anyone.

"What's your name?" I ask suddenly.

He lifts a brow and cocks his head to the side. The gesture causes a lock of curly brown hair to fall over his forehead.

Hot-as-sin is a gross understatement.

"Why do you ask?"

I lick my dried lips and his eyes darken as they follow the movement.

"I just want to know what to call you when I'm screaming your name later. You intend to fuck me without mercy, right?"

Whoa, Mira. Where did that come from?

The stranger simply stares at me, like he's trying to figure out who the hell I am.

"I'm not telling you my name." He growls. "But you're right about one thing. You will be screaming my name later. When that time comes, you can call me your god. Now get in the tub."

I open my mouth to protest but he cuts in.

"Get in the goddamn tub, woman. I intend to fuck you clean, not smelling like my uncle's dungeon floors."

I walk quickly past him and climb into the gigantic, pearl shaped tub. The water is hot and deliciously soothing. A sigh of relief escapes me as I sink fully into the scented bath.

My eyes fly open when I hear the rustle of clothings and I'm treated to a front row seat of the hottest man in the world undressing.

He takes off his clothes like he does everything else, with deliberate precision. His eyes never leave my stunned face as he makes quick work of removing his shirt buttons.

I graze my fingers against my chin to make sure I'm not drooling.

Holy Mother of God, he's hot.

His fingers move to the zipper of his jeans and I look away hurriedly, my cheeks heating in embarrassment.

"Scoot over." He commands.

I move over until I'm pressed at the far end of the tub, my eyes firmly fixed on the bubbly water. He sinks into the water and remain still for a while.

"Come here."

My head shoots up at the quiet command. I stare at him with wide eyes, shaking my head frantically.

His eyes tighten with annoyance and he lifts a brow.

"You know the consequences of disobeying me, Mira. Now, come here."

I heave a defeated breath, then wade the short distance to him. He grabs my waist and spins me around, resting me against his hard length, my back to his front.

"Aren't you supposed to be fucking me by now?" I ask breathlessly.

"Are you that desperate to get laid?"

"No! Of course not. I just thought…"

"Why don't you try to shut up and let me handle this, little girl. I will have you in my bed when I'm good and ready."

His hands rove over my body underneath the water. His expert fingers move from my belly to my chest, just shy of my breasts and I barely restrain myself from arching into his touch.

I shut my eyes against the foreign sensations that having this beast of a man touch me elicits in my soul.

I tell myself that I am doing this under duress. There's a gun pointed at my head afterall, but I can hear my subconscious laugh at me. Deep down, my body craves this man's touch like an addictive drug.

His fingers finally find my breasts and I freeze. He kneads the small globes, circling my areolas with his thumb.

His thumb and forefinger finally wrap around my peebled nipples and a muffled moan slips out before I can stop it.

I sound so alien, I almost do not recognise my own voice.

He pulls my shoulders backwards until I'm slammed harshly against his chest.

His lips find my ear and he whispers.

"Is this how easy it is to have your surrender, little girl? Apparently, all your smart mouth was just for show. Just a finger on your nipple and you're a goner. How many?" He asks suddenly.

"Wh... what are you asking me?" I stutter, trying and failing miserably to get rid of the sexual fog that clouds my vision.

"How many men have you allowed to touch you like this? How many of them have you given free rein of your body?"

His voice is stiff with anger. Why the hell is he angry?

I turn to reply when I catch sight of sudden movements from the corner of my eyes. Before the stranger can react, a loud bang echoes through the entire bathroom.

His arms around me become slack and fear thrums anew in my veins.

"Mira!"

I freeze.

"Vanessa?"

My head snaps up and I find Vanessa, stainless bottle of body wash in hand, while the man that had his hands all over me just moments ago lies unconscious in the tub, his head lolled to one side.

"Vanessa!" I cry. "I'm so glad you're okay."

I leap from the tub and crush her in a hug. She looks tired and dirty, but otherwise unhurt.

"It's good to see you, too, Mira. But we have to get out of here before anyone realises I'm gone. Get some clothes on. C'mon!"

She flees the bathroom and I follow, hot on her trail and naked as the day I was born. At the entrance, I pause.

My gaze involuntarily finds the beautiful, unconscious man in the tub.

"I guess this is goodbye, my god." I whisper.

Then I turn and run. I do not look back anymore. Not even once. I will never see him again.

But fate always has a way of ruining all our plans.