His Mafia Prince

(MILES)

The aftermath of Arlo’s little visit down the cellar has left my neck and ribs throbbing painfully. Unfortunately, those aren’t the only parts of my body that he left throbbing. Arlo turned me down on my offer and now I’m left to suffer the pangs of a raging hard-on with my hands bound to my back.

It’s probably for the best that he turned me down. The last thing that my situation needs is more complications. The move to tempt him was downright stupid. I need to get my head in the game. My focus should be on finding a way to escape and not to tempt Arlo. Sure, if I’d been successful, I would have probably gotten an upper hand on him. I would have probably gone free if had he accepted my offer.

Unfortunately, he didn’t.

Instead of obsessing over that little brat, I should be figuring out a way to escape this dark dank cellar. The task has gotten a notch harder because he decided to cuff me before he escaped.

I roll onto my side and clumsily manage to stand. I stumble toward the cot and lie on it.

My anger grows with each passing minute. My shoulders and arms ache from being stuck behind me cuffed. The metal restraints are biting into my skin. The more Arlo leaves me down here cuffed, the angrier I get.

I hear muffled voices upstairs and it sounds like the same two voices. Yellow eyes and Arlo. I wonder if he just brought one guy here because if he wants Sasha to come for me, he should have an army. Two people can never be able to stop a force like Sasha.

I finally wane and end up sleeping through the night. It only dawns on me that it’s already morning because of the light seeping into the tiny window above my cot. It’s too small, I can’t escape through it. After years of rain and sun, the window’s glass too is difficult to see through. It only lets on about enough light for me to be able to tell whether it’s day or night.