I'm up bright and early as I stand in the last place I thought I would be after last night's encounter with Javier. Every action of his just screams to me to run the opposite way, but I never do. He has my stepfather, who is probably dead by now. I don't care about his death. Some part of me only wishes I could have been the one to somehow put an end to his life. The thought gives me an odd satisfaction which just makes me wonder the amount of mental fuckery being here has brought upon me.I hear approaching footsteps down the hall as Javier leaves his room. When he comes into view, he stops at the door and looks at me in surprise. This seems to be becoming a daily occurrence. He's dressed impeccably as usual, quality navy coloured coat atop his three piece armani suit fitting his tall and muscled form effortlessly. “Good morning, sir.” “Morning, Elsa.” He walks past me to grab the fruit bowl I brought upstairs for him and I turn and watch as he stabs a piece of watermelon and dips
Dear Readers, The Billionaire's Captive follows Elsa Perez and Javier Sandoval's story. What happens when Elsa's ruthless stepfather carelessness puts her in Javier's hands, a man more ruthless, they are books written about him? Find out in this story. You must have heard of Javier in the first book of this series: Betrothed to The Don. This book can be read as a standalone, and it is a mafia romance full-length novel. Enjoy! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ “Open this damn door before I break it down!” I hear my stepfather's drunken voice yell for the second time from outside my bedroom door. “Wait till I get my hands on you, you slimy bitch!” As quietly as I can, I recover from my frozen stance and will my legs to retreat into my bathroom. Once I'm in, I use my strength to raise the creaky door, this way it doesn't make a noise as I pull it close and shut myself in. He rattles the door again and suddenly laughs like he knows he has the upper hand. “Hiding from me will do yo
I've been sitting in a corner of the gas station where the sun shone less, waiting for two hours now but Oliver still hasn't come. He said the gas station downtown was where we would meet when everyone left for the day.The plan was that he would be waiting for me here and not the other way around. I mean, he knows how much my anxiety spikes up when I'm stressed. He isn't answering my calls either. The good news is that his phone isn't switched off so maybe he's on his way and just got a bit delayed.Yes. That must be it.I have no reason not to trust him. He was even the one who came up with this idea. He wouldn't leave me behind. Absolutely not.But when another hour passes and the sun's rays begin to cast on me in my hiding corner, I'm hit with a fresh wave of disappointment. I don't believe my words of assurance anymore because they sound vague even to my ears.I have an hour left until it's 4 p.m. before my family comes back from wherever it is they usually go on Thursdays. If I
6 months later…If there's one thing I've learned over the last 18 years it took me to build my cartel, it's that liars can be spotted in so many different ways from a mile ahead. I have no idea whether it actually takes so much effort to spot a liar or maybe it just comes naturally to me. I'll go with the latter.First, they try so hard to contain their labored breaths by trying not to breathe for a few seconds. This act is to trick the heart into believing that all is well so the hard thumping reduces. While that happens, beads of sweat will begin to form in their hairline, which then slowly trickle down their temple. There's also that mild twitching and uncountable blinking of the eyes. Then there's the most obvious which is when they begin to stutter. Of course, stuttering could also indicate that the said person is nervous. But not when he's also guilty of all four acts at once.It takes a deep form of observation and focus to spot these little details. Turning to my right-hand
Over the past six months since Oliver betrayed me, I've become a shadow of my former self and that's saying a lot. Oliver hasn't called me either but I've had the time to heal past the betrayal no matter how difficult it has been. I thought things were tough for me all these years, it's nothing compared to how I've been treated these past few months.Lisa never failed to remind me of how I was fucking with her boyfriend. She called me a slut at every chance she got and often said things like “You didn't think anyone would ever love you when you look like that, did you?” Her snarky comments always hit home. I know I'm not in the category of the regular slim build most girls usually weigh. I've always been… curvier than others and I wish it wasn't so. It's hard to love my body when everyone around me reminds me of how ‘fat’ I am.That's one of the reasons I loved Oliver. I thought he saw me for…me. He never called me fat and he made me feel wanted. At least that was what I thought. I g
On the third day of my abduction, I fear that I might be losing my mind. I know I'm all about solitude and all but the quiet has become too much. If anything, it has become pure torture to me.Fear of the unknown.I don't know what to expect and the silence has been killing me. On the night of my abduction, I was tied up because I wouldn't stop struggling and then they dumped me in the back seat of an SUV as we drove off. I was seated in between two big men and the if-you-move-we'll-strangle-you look they gave me was enough to make me sit still. It didn't mean I stopped panicking though. I was a mess inside.I thought they would lock me up in an underground room, all alone during the day and then take turns abusing and raping me at night. Instead, we pulled up into the grandest mansion I have ever seen. The huge black gates opened to let the cars in on our arrival and closed behind us as soon as we had driven in.The grand mansion stood at the end of a long, winding driveway, surrou
Stepping into my home office, I breathe a sigh of relief. I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to let a male have access to the room I kept Richard's daughter in. Things would have gotten really messy if I hadn't gotten there in time. I have Nana Guadalupe to thank for that. It took her two days to give me reasons why the poor girl shouldn't be treated poorly because of her father's sins. I assured her the poor girl wasn't being treated poorly, but she wasn't having it. “It's dangerous to leave a woman out there by herself. Bring her in so she can help me around here.” She had said, and that was all it took to give in. They are very few people in my life that I usually take instructions from, Nana Guadalupe is one of them. I've known her since I was 10 years old. She was our housekeeper and mum's best friend. Even after my parents died, she stood by me. In her words, I was too young to be by myself. And ever since then, she has refused to go anywhere else even when I took
I'm awake and fully dressed for the day by 5:30 a.m on the dot. I don't know why I'm up this early, especially since Nana Guadalupe said activities usually started between seven and eight a.m. I can't tell if it's the aching of my head from yesterday's assault or the fact that this is usually the time I wake up at home. I'm guessing both.I had a good seven hours of sleep after Nana Guadalupe showed me the kitchen and the door to her room. Something tells me she would have given me something for my headache which started last night if I had told her, but I couldn't bring myself to ask. No one ever listened at home so I fear my instincts could be wrong about Nana Guadalupe. I'm not about to let this headache earn me a punishment so early so I'll rather deal with the pain silently.It's still dark outside and I can't spot any movements outside the windows. Putting my ears to the door, I don't hear any sounds in the hallway either. Am I the only one awake this early? I shouldn't be sur