THE BARON'S PET

CHAPTER 3

CORA.

I woke to the feeling of being carried somewhere. A door clicked and I was gently set down on something soft.

"Leave us," a now familiar, cold voice ordered.

There were sounds of shuffling and footsteps. Moments later, the door shut again. I was alone with him.

"I know you're awake," he said calmly.

I kept my eyes stubbornly shut, my hands damp with sweat, my heart racing.

Dante's horrified face was stuck in my memory.

How had I ever thought he was so powerful?

The Baron sighed. "I was hoping we wouldn't have to do this the hard way."

I remained silent, barely able to breathe through my terror. From what I had seen, the rumors about this man weren't exaggerated.

"Well, since you insist."

There was silence for about five seconds before a warm hand stroked my cheek softly, trailing down my neck.

I jumped and my eyes snapped open, making me look like a deer in headlights.

The Baron leaned over me, an amused expression over his sneer.

“Welcome back,” he said, then leaned back.

I darted a furtive glance around the room. I couldn't tell much about it except that the furnishings were lush and the door was locked.

I was lying on a couch and the Baron had taken a seat in an armchair next to it.

"Where am I?", I demanded, trying and failing at my attempt at bravado as my voice cracked.

"Still in New York,” The Baron replied dryly. "This is my penthouse."

"What do you want with me? Didn't Dante tell you I'm not one of his girls?"

"His whores, you mean?" The Baron raised an eyebrow, bringing a whiskey glass to his lips.

Impotent fury flowed through me, clashing with my underlying fear. "I am not a w***e,” I spat, even as I felt a trickle of sweat roll down my neck despite the pleasantly cool room.

"And yet I found you on your knees, with your clothes on the floor in front of you. Tell me, how much did he promise to pay you?"

My face flushed. The Baron's words hit too close to home. Amity's warning pleas came back to me and I fought back tears.

"Just send me back home, please,” I said quietly. "I won't tell the cops, I promise."

The Baron scoffed. "You think I care about the cops? I would walk you into a police station right now and no one would breathe a word of protest."

"Wh-what are you going to do with me?"

The Baron's eyes flashed. "Whatever I want. But for now, I'll settle for the same thing you were about to give Dante."

I looked up at him. "You want me to strip for you?"

His eyes trailed down my naked legs and I self-consciously pulled my knees to myself. Up until now, I'd forgotten that I hadn't gotten to put on my pants.

"Among other things,” he said.

"I..." I swallowed. "I'll strip for you, Mr... Baron. But I won't sleep with you. I'm not a w***e,” I repeated.

The Baron's eyes raised. "Who said there'll be much sleeping involved? And weren't you going to sleep with Dante?"

"Dante and I had an agreement,” I replied, looking down at my sweaty clenched fists, then forcing my gaze up to meet his.

I regretted it immediately. His eyes were the eyes of a hard man with no definition of mercy.

He spread his hands magnanimously. Once again, I was struck by how handsome the man was.

He also didn't look as though he were older than thirty. I wondered how such a young man had come into such power.

"So, let's have an agreement,” he said.

My mind spiraled with the meaning behind those words. I began to throb longingly, then beat myself up for it.

"No."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you refusing me?"

"Y-yes. You can't make me do what I don't want to."

The Baron took another sip of his drink, seemingly disinterested. "Is that so? You don't seem scared enough. I wonder if it's guts or just plain stupidity."

Gracefully, the Baron stood, walked to a small bar, and poured himself another drink. He walked back with two glasses, extending one to me.

With a shaky hand, I reached for it, then set it down in front of me without drinking.

"Cora Sinclair,” The Baron said. "Single. Aged twenty-five. Waitress by day, bartender by night. Twin sister, Amity Sinclair, is sick with leukemia. Mother, Rose Sinclair, meth addict and gambler. Deadbeat father. You have a degree in Music but haven't gotten around to using it yet. Shall I continue?"

"You don't scare me", I lied quietly, clenching my shaky hands even more.

He loomed over me. "I can see that. Would you like that to change, Cora?"

I forced myself to shake my head.

He pushed a shopping bag towards me. "That's what I thought. Now be a good girl, and go change into these."

"What are those?" I asked suspiciously.

The Baron sipped his drink. "Something a bit better than the frumpy things you have under that shirt."

I wasn't brave enough to shoot him a glare at his words, so I stood and grabbed the bag.

He didn't stop me as I marched towards a door I hoped led to a bedroom and yanked it open, slamming it shut behind me.

I immediately sprung into action, dumping the bag on a large king-size bed in the middle of the room and opening drawers in search of a weapon of some sort.

I found an ivory letter opener in the bottom drawer of his nightstand and closed my fist around it.

I checked the windows. They were locked, but were so high up, I would have been crazy to even think of escaping through there.

The bathroom was next. I found nothing for weaponry, and the windows were shut.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled off my shirt and underwear, keeping a wary eye on the door since it had no keys in the lock.

The things in the bag were nothing more than red scraps of silky fabric.

I would never have been caught dead in them had the Baron not forced me to put them on. I was under his power, even though so far, he hadn't made a move to be violent.

Except for knocking me unconscious and kidnapping me, that is. I also couldn't forget his orders about Dante.

What were his men going to do? Break Dante's legs? I shuddered.

I finished putting on the lingerie - a matching bra and panties set with lace garters and a tiny teddy to wear over it, grabbed the letter opener again, and slowly pushed the door open.

The Baron was nowhere to be seen. I almost began to relax, thinking he had decided to leave me alone.

I took my first step back into the room, my hand with the tiny knife behind me, and a large hand gripped my arm painfully from behind, whirling me around and yanking.

Pain shot up my arm and the letter opener clattered to the floor.

The Baron stared down at me, his face hard and expressionless.

I knew then without a doubt that unless a miracle occurred, I wouldn't be leaving this place unless he gave his express permission.

That didn't mean I had to meekly agree though.

Shrieking, I pulled my knee back and drove my foot forward towards his crotch.

Instead of shying away, he yanked me to him, throwing me off balance, and caught my leg between his thighs.

His eyes flashed dangerously.

I headbutted him, yanking my arms out of his grip and clawing at his face. Sharp pain singled my skull as he pulled my hair hard.

His other arm snaked around me and crushed me to him so both my hands were tight in his embrace.

"I do not like to hit women," he told me gruffly. "But if you do that again, I will make you suffer."

I struggled against him. A hard object poking my stomach made me realize how much he was enjoying our proximity.

I was wearing next to nothing and was pressed against him.

"You don't hit women,” I panted, "you just pay people to do that for you. Let me go, you brute!"

The Baron studied me, and for a moment, I thought he was going to change his mind and hit me for my choice of words.

His grip tightened for a short moment before it loosened and he stepped back. I immediately rubbed at my sore scalp.

"Do what you're here for,” he ordered, leaning against a wall.

"Y-you'll let me go afterward?" I asked hopefully.

"I'll consider it,” he said coldly. "Now, stop making me wait."

I took a shaky step forward, then stopped. The room was silent, save for my scared breathing. There was no music.

Did he expect me to just get out of the sorry excuse of underwear I was wearing?

I almost refused again, but my scalp still hurt. Amity's broken expression also flashed through my mind, reminding me that I wasn't doing this for myself.

Slowly, and for the second time that night, I began to get naked…