CAGED - A Dark Billionaire Captive Romance

Prologue

WARNING: This is NOT a traditional romance. It contains disturbing subject matter, including kidnapping, Dom/Sub, Bd.sm, dubious, sensitive content and non-con, as well as graphic s****l content. If you have even slight sensitivity regarding Dark Heroes who like to Hurt Heroines, please do not read it. It also includes voyeurism and humiliation. You have been warned. This is a work of fiction intended for a mature, 18+ audience only. The author neither endorses nor condones such behaviour in real life.

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Prologue

Erica

 I stood in the middle of the stage with the man announcing my physical attributes. Color, size, weight, status of my virginity and the fact that I had been here before and that I punched two men then. I silently cursed Dane and the reason I had chosen to go out with him. I hadn’t been as interested in him as much as I was in the way he had looked. He was good looking and reminded me of a certain man that I wouldn’t particularly mind killing and offering my virginity to at the same time, who has hair as dark as midnight, a big hulking body and an Italian accent. And not to forget those dark brown eyes with yellow rings in them that glow like fire. Like a black panther or maybe a Jaguar. Do jaguar have eyes like that?

The first time I had met the man, who had dominated my thoughts ever since, he had looked like he was on the verge of killing me. And the second time I had met him in Chicago where I currently was, he had saved me— which was surprising, because we have each other. Yeah, it was just my luck that I was in lust with a man I hated. The third time I had met him he had looked like he was seconds away from bending me down on the bonnet of his car and fûcking me for all to see.

Well, now was not the time to think about that arrogant arsehole with a panty melting accent but then I was in this situation because of him. If it hadn't been for him I wouldn't ever have been interested in Dane. So I hate him more for it. And I hate Dane. And most of all I hate myself. My big sister, Summer, was right when she had said someday I would end up getting myself in trouble that I couldn’t get out of.

“Considering her virginity is still intact, I am guessing the last buyer didn’t have what it takes to tame a woman like her.” The auctioneer said bringing me back to the present, making a few men chuckle. “Last time she was sold for ten millions but then we didn’t have so many new attendees.” The auctioneer paused and looked at a list in his hands and said, “But today we have some of the richest men here who deal in oils, explosives, weapons and ammunition. So we will start at five millions for this stubborn and fierce woman that will make a good pet to tame.”

I tuned him out after that as I narrowed my eyes in the blinding light that was pointed at me. I was aware of my nakedness and the fact that several men were looking at me. It was humiliating but I had long ago learned to ignore what I felt. I knew how to push my emotions in a box and close the lid so they won’t bother me. The only person who was allowed to see my emotions and who knew how I felt was my big sister. Speaking of whom, last time it was her because of whom I got out of here unscathed. It was my brother-in-law, Gabriel Wolfe’s love for my sister that had made him contact Brandon Carter who had paid the price to whisk me to safety and back to my sister. And right now I was betting on him to be here to do it again. Now he wouldn’t even have to be told because he knows me and I know that he was a good man and in love with his wife, Ellison, who was Gabriel’s sister/daughter.

But as the minutes ticked by and the bid reached fifty millions, for the first time since this fûcking night had begun fear started to creep in. I swallowed thickly as my eyes frantically searched the crowd for the familiar face and blue eyes of Brandon. Men after men bid on me. I heard some of them voicing out what they would like to do to me and my stomach knotted.

Fuck. I should have taken my chances with those gàngbàngers.

And then the voice I never thought I would hear, said loudly, “Eighty millions.” I knew that voice like I knew how much I hated the effect it had on me.

I squinted in the dark but I couldn’t find him in the sea of dark faces. The auctioneer repeated the bid. And went on with his once and twice and then said, “Sold for eighty millions.”

I stood there, watching and waiting. And then a man walked out of the shadows in a black suit with black goggles that shielded his eyes but he wasn’t the man behind the voice who had bid on me. Because that voice comes attached with a pair of glowing brown eyes. That voice had starred in my dirty dreams and helped me to get off in the darkest of nights, especially after my nightmares— which I knew was twisted, but then I never said I was normal.

 I frowned as the man who came to stand near the stage and the auctioneer went to him. They talked for a few brief moments and then the man turned to me. Now as his face illuminated from the overhead light, I recognised him. He was the same man I had seen with the arrogant arsehole both the times. He was in his late twenties with dark brown hair and square jaw, but he wasn’t who I was looking for. His boss was the one who made my pulse jump and my skin taut.

The man came forward and waved at me to come to him as he held out his hand. I narrowed my eyes on him but then looked around the room full of men, another girl was already being pushed on the stage and the man standing before me made a noise of impatience. Not having any other choice I slipped my hand in his and he carefully pulled me down from the stage.

As we started to walk, I said, “It would be very nice if you offer me your jacket.”

“I would’ve. But he said to bring you as you are.” He replied, looking ahead.

I looked at him. “Where is he?”

“Outside.” That’s all he said.

“What’s your name?” I asked, trying not to fold my arms to cover my brèasts even as my mind screamed at me. But how would it help when I had been naked for the last few hours since I entered this building.

“Ephraim.” He answered.

“Ephraim.” I tried his name on my tongue. It felt foreign. “What does it mean?” I asked. I have seen him a number of times, exactly three, each time that I met his boss. His eyes finally came to me at my question but he didn’t look down from my face. I wouldn’t have cared, knowing men are prone to give into their animalistic urges but his eyes never wavered. “You are looking at me like I asked you how far is the sun?”

He looked away and said, “147.66 million Km. And I am surprised that you want to know the meaning of my name. It’s fruitful, by the way.”

Before I could comment on it and show my own shock at the fact that he knew the answer to my last question, we came outside. Ephraim slightly touched my arm and nudged me in the direction of a blacked out limousine that stood to the right. He opened the back door for me and after a slight pause I slipped in. The moment I did, I became aware of two things. It was cold inside the car. And that the man I was obsessing over for months now was the one who made me keenly aware of how much nâked I was.

Antonio Rossi.

He sat there in a dark Armani suit, looking just like the way I remembered him and as he appeared in my dreams that always left me wet and needy. With the same sharp jaw and same feral eyes. And the commanding presence that made me want to do something stupid, just like the other three times in the past. But damn, he had been provoking too, and I had learned the hard way to not give up. Never give up.

Now, I licked my lips, searching for words that wouldn’t come out, sassy or rude or anything other than grateful and praying he won’t provoke me again into saying something that would make me look like an ungrateful brat. I looked at him, meeting his yellow brown eyes as I said, “Thank you for saving me.”

For a moment he just stared at me, looked at me like I was insane and then his lips slightly twitched and he said, “You seemed to have some kind of misconception, diavola.” He leaned forward and before I could even blink, he grabbed my arm and pulled me on his lap. “I didn’t save you. I bought you.” And a moment later I felt the sharp prick near my ear before everything went black.

A. Gupta