My Father Sold Me to a bunch of Crazy Alphas

I am enjoying my vacation.

Which is a weird thing to say, considering I’m living with my kidnapper.

But not having a job? No subordinates to boss around? No father to impress?

Sounds like heaven to me.

Except for the blood tests, I’m a freeloader—and I love it.

Honestly? I don’t even want to go outside.

The only thing that could make this better would be Emiliano leaving. Definitely.

As much as I enjoy using him as a human napkin at night and having someone else pay for my food, I can’t forget the tiny little detail that brought us together: my d—n kidnapping.

He bothers me. A lot. Especially the way he keeps trying to make me comfortable. And the worst part? It’s kind of working.

Stockholm Syndrome, and I’m not even in Sweden. Lame.

Take tonight, for example.

He just sat on the couch with me.