Mistress to a Monster Read online

  Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2022 Sam Crescent

  ISBN: 978-0-3695-0618-4

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Audrey Bobak

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  MISTRESS TO A MONSTER

  Sam Crescent

  Copyright © 2022

  Prologue

  Milah Russo glanced around at the party her father had thrown to honor her eighteenth birthday. This wasn’t really for her. He pretended it was because he liked to show off his wealth and power.

  Staring at the people present who were not his friends, she felt a little sick to her stomach. These kinds of celebrations were never good. All they did was bring out the worst in people. None of them were interested in her.

  They were all here to get in her father’s good graces, but Antonio Russo was not interested in making friends. Ever since her mother’s death at the hands of the De Luca family, their sworn enemies, he’d been on a warpath, determined to spill De Luca blood. This had been going on for the past five years.

  She didn’t understand why. It wasn’t like there was any love between her parents. They had fought constantly. Her father was a brutal man, and he’d beaten her mother regularly.

  As she watched him tonight, surrounded by many scantily clad women, he sickened her.

  She hated being his daughter, but there was no way she’d ever let him see the truth. Hiding her feelings was what got her through.

  Milah declined several opportunities to dance, and instead made her way out into the garden. Like so many other times before, there were plenty of guests. All of them pretty much tripping over themselves to greet her. She wasn’t rude, so she smiled and nodded at them all, not caring one bit about doing her duty.

  They would talk nicely to her face, but behind her back, it would be scathing. From the way she looked to how she dressed. Some felt she wasn’t fit to be a Russo. Her mother had been a beauty. Considered to be the most beautiful woman in the whole country. Milah only possessed her raven hair. Where her mother had been slender, raven-haired, with brown eyes, Milah was curvy, with the same hair and blue eyes. She never bowed her head in the company of others and always listened to what surrounded her.

  Rumor would have it that her mother turned a blind eye to everything. Ignoring all the warning signs.

  Milah would do no such thing. In her world, she knew women were treated as objects to be bought and sold at the whim of men.

  Everyone had thought her mother a fool, but Milah knew differently. Her mother had known the cost of bearing a daughter as opposed to sons. So while everyone treated her like an idiot, behind closed doors, her mother trained her well. She wanted a daughter who could fight back. Who wouldn’t be afraid of the men her father brought, and also, who would be able to defend herself, unlike her mother.

  She trained with the best guards. Learned from the best the Russo had to offer, and now on her eighteenth birthday, she had never felt so alone.

  Milah found a small maze at the bottom of the gardens and decided to have a few moments to herself before she needed to start worrying about faking it again. Being around these people for longer than a few hours was tiring.

  She wanted to leave. To go back home where her father never visited and just live her life in peace.

  The time would come when he’d use her, but until then, she hoped to find a means to support herself. To run from the Russo life. Even if it meant faking her own death and being reborn, she’d gladly do it.

  Wrapping her arms around her body, she stared up at the night’s sky. The moon glowed down, and it made her smile.

  Closing her eyes, she stood perfectly still, and in a rare moment of her life, she felt a sense of peace. These times were always few and far between in her life. She had learned long ago to not always expect them, but to enjoy them while they happened.

  After taking a deep breath, she released it slowly, counting the seconds.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the rare beauty herself.”

  The dark voice sent a shiver down her spine, and not in a good way either. Opening her eyes, she stared straight ahead, feeling the man approach. He was the enemy. Her senses told her to be on high alert. She didn’t have a single weapon on hand.

  Gritting her teeth, she tried not to react.

  “Are you not going to scream?” he asked.

  His warmth seeped through her dress, and she tensed up as his hands suddenly appeared. The moon provided enough light for her to recognize the De Luca markings on his knuckles, but there was only one man in the entire family who would have that kind of ink.

  Her mother had warned her about him.

  Damon De Luca. The most feared and oldest son of the empire. Their sworn enemies.

  What was he doing at her party?

  No one was around. He’d be able to kill her easily.

  She had done the unthinkable and let down her guard. She should have known there was nowhere in this world where she would be safe.

  Her heart raced, but she didn’t move. She didn’t even flinch as those arms went to her waist, as if he had a right to touch her, which he did not.

  No one was here to hear her pleas.

  “You are making a big mistake,” she said.

  He chuckled. “Am I? Or is your father becoming too reckless with your safety?”

  Her hands clenched into fists. No one insulted her father or her family.

  The desire to hurt him was strong, but she kept herself in check, not wanting to give away too much.

  Damon pressed his face against her neck. “You smell good.”

  What was his end game?

  What did he want?

  “You know, I could steal you away right now. None of your pictures do your beauty justice.”

  She had heard enough. Slamming her elbow into his ribs, she stomped her foot down on his and spun around to face him, landing a blow to his face.

  Her attack caught him off guard, but as she went to slap him, he captured her wrist. His grip was firm, making her cry out from the sudden jolt of pain. “Let go of me!”

  “You’ve got some fight in you. I like that. It will be so much more fun to watch you beneath me.”

  “You’ve got no chance in hell.” She would fight him no matter what. “There is no way a Russo would ever be with a De Luca. You are filth and the worst plague to walk this fucking earth.”

  “Fighting words.”

  “I can do more than that.” She was ready to kill him. He might not have been directly responsible for killing her mother, but he was a De Luca. They were all the same.

  “Mark my words, Milah. You will be mine.”

  “I’d rather die.”

  “We will see.”

  Chapter One

  Three years later

  Milah spun around in a circle, taking in the grandeur of her surroundings. Her shirt was torn, exposing one shoulder along with her bra strap. Her hair had been pulled from the confines of her bun. Her jeans were still intact, but now there were tear marks where she’d been roughly kidnapped.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the sudden fear. There was no reason to be irrational. She didn’t like the look of the house. It already screamed money. Being taken someplace that looked wealthy wasn’t a good sign as far as she was concerned.

  Gripping the back of her neck, she tried not to think too hard. This wasn’t good. None of this was.

  Her guards hadn’t put up any fight either. She hadn’t been able to find a means of escape from the Russo empire in the past three years. Every time she tried to find one possible avenue, her father thwarted it.

  Either by stopping her from going away to college, or constantly having guards at her side. Her mother had warned her more than once that if her father saw her as a feasible income, or a means to get what he wanted, he’d use her.

  Had that time come?

  Had his enemies figured out who she was?

  Her coming-of-age party had been a huge problem. Up until that point, no one knew who she was, or what she meant to Russo. It was like she didn’t exist, but since then, all had known what she looked like and now there was no getting away from it.

  There was a bed against the far wall, looking as imposing as ever. There was no way she was going to sit on it.

  She stayed perfectly still and kept her gaze on the door, which was locked. That was the first thing she tried, to see if there was any chance of escape.

  There wasn’t.

  Even trying to flee from the window was useless. It was far too high, and the windows were locked. The only way she’d be able to escape through them was if she had a rock or something to break the glass. That would only alert her captors to her intention of escaping.

  No matter where she looked, there was nothing she could do.

  Absolutely nothing.

  The large, imposing bed was the only piece of furniture in the room. Only one door. There wasn’t even a closet or any drawers. Nothing. She’d already tried to lo
ok under the bed, and nothing was there.

  This was impossible.

  She wasn’t going to beg or cause a scene. A Russo never did any such thing. She was highly embarrassed that even after all of her training, she hadn’t been able to stop the men from taking her.

  Milah had to wonder if her mother would be ashamed if she could see her now. She shook her head, refusing to think of that. She couldn’t.

  Right now, all she could do was attempt to survive.

  That was it.

  Hands clenched into fists, she tried not to think. Panicking wouldn’t get her out of here, but being in control and collected just might. It was a long shot. She was aware of that, but it was a shot she was more than willing to take.

  Shock raced down her spine as soon as she heard the lock flick open. Three men rushed into the room. None of them attempted to hide their identities. All of them charged toward her, and she attempted to fight them off, punching one, kicking another, but it was the third one who wrapped his arms around her waist, hauling her off her feet.

  He placed her over his shoulder, and she screamed at him to let her go, landing blows against his ass, trying to get him to stop, even attempting to kick him.

  She wanted to get out of here, to be let down.

  Nothing helped.

  They left the room, and Milah tried to watch every single footstep so she would be able to figure out an escape.

  This was what happened when her father’s thirst for blood was far stronger than his love for his daughter.

  Tears began to fill her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She squeezed them closed. There was no way she’d ever show weakness. Not to her captor. Not to these men. Certainly not to her father.

  She had long ago stopped crying. No man deserved her tears.

  The men came to a stop, and she was suddenly dumped unceremoniously onto the floor like she was nothing. They stepped back, and Milah opened her eyes to see several men. Some of whom she recognized as her father’s men. Several she did not, but she did notice the De Luca mark. Then spinning around on the floor, she came to a stop when she saw her beaten father and Damon De Luca himself, standing there looking victorious.

  What the fuck had happened?

  The last she knew of her father, he was planning something that would undermine De Luca’s power, but she didn’t know the finer details. He never allowed her to understand his reasoning or for him to be part of his plans. To her father, she was nothing more than a woman.

  She hated it when he treated her as weaker than him. She wasn’t.

  Staring at her father now, she had to wonder what had happened because he didn’t look happy. In fact, he was bleeding, and seeing him like this, he appeared broken. His men didn’t have their weapons either. Only De Luca was heavily armed.

  Her stomach started to twist and turn.

  Milah didn’t speak for fear of how she’d sound. Instead, she looked at the two men and waited.

  “Will you tell her, Russo? Or should I?”

  Her father wouldn’t even glance at her. She’d never seen him like this. In all the years she was growing up, he was a commanding presence in her life. Someone who had always been in control, who never looked anyone in the eye with fear.

  “Dad?” she asked, needing him to acknowledge her presence.

  De Luca didn’t look her way. Instead, he chuckled. Then he finally looked at her, but she didn’t want to return his gaze.

  Something had gone badly wrong.

  One quick glance at him, another at her father, and nothing.

  “You will be going with Damon De Luca now, Milah.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “You belong to him.”

  She shook her head. “No, that cannot be.”

  “You will do as he tells you. You will not run. You will hold your head up high and be proud to be a Russo.”

  This made De Luca laugh even more. “Proud to be a Russo? Would you like me to tell her how you sold her? How you begged for your life?”

  “Dad, please, don’t do this.”

  Her father had sold her to De Luca as if she meant nothing? No, it couldn’t be. She refused to believe it. “Dad, please, talk to me.”

  Instead, her father stepped away from De Luca, who clicked his fingers. His men grabbed her. “Take her to my home, in the mistress’s bedroom. I’ll be there to deal with you shortly.”

  Trying to keep calm faded so fucking fast. As the men grabbed her arms to lift her, she fought them, stopping the two men with her surprise attack, but more men grabbed at her.

  “No!” She screamed at them. “Let me go. Dad!”

  Even as they hauled her off her feet and marched her out of the room, she screamed for her father. Anger rushed through her. It was quick and full of bitterness. What the hell had happened?

  They dumped her into the back of a truck. She slammed her hands against the side of the vehicle, trying to get out. Everything was locked.

  “Damn it. Let me out.” She wasn’t going to stop. Not for a single second. Her father had sold her to De Luca? How did this happen?

  What could he have possibly done that was such a big giant screwup that put him at his enemy’s mercy? She wasn’t going to get any answers in the back of the truck, but she refused to go quietly.

  If cops ended up following them, she’d be able to get their attention. She prayed for someone to flag them down, to bring awareness to her being kidnapped. Anything that would stop this from happening.

  Her hands grew sore with the constant slapping against the metal can she was being transported in. The air was stale. Tiredness started to consume her.

  She needed to get out. To get free. To finally be free of being a Russo and to be her own person.

  “Let me out.”

  The truck suddenly came to a stop.

  It was so dark, and as she tried to figure out where the truck would open, the back or the side, she kept flicking her head to the front and to the right, wanting to surprise them and make an escape.

  The truck opened, and she charged forward.

  Once again, shocking the men as she shoved them out of the way, she ran as fast as she could.

  She’d never been the person to wear heels, always preferring sneakers and flats. Milah ran as fast as she could, hearing De Luca’s men following behind her, but she had to get away. She didn’t have time to take in her surroundings, and it wasn’t too long before she was thrown to the ground, and a large body covered her.

  No one said a word even as she kept on fighting, wanting to get away. Begging to be free. To fight. Hoping someone would take pity on her and let her go. Who would dare to betray De Luca?

  In all her years of eavesdropping, she had never once heard of one of his men running away. Not a single one.

  What kind of man instilled that kind of loyalty? She didn’t know who it was, nor did she want to.

  She was once again off her feet and being carried back toward the house. Again, she didn’t get the chance to look at her surroundings as she was taken to a room. This time, she was dumped on the bed.

  “There’s a bathroom through there. Use it. Clean yourself up, and be warned, there is absolutely no chance of escape.”

  She spun around to face her captor, prepared to yell at him, but he was already gone.

  Of course he was.

  She moved to the edge of the bed and rested her palms on her knees, taking a deep breath. Wearing herself out wasn’t part of the plan. Not that she had any great ideas for escaping. She was stuck.

  Getting to her feet, she assessed the room. This one had a large bed, like the last, but this time, she recognized the luxury silk sheets. A couple of cupboards were on either side, and she went to them, opening the three drawers in each, finding nothing. There wasn’t a lamp, and she touched the top of each surface, wondering if a lamp had been there. She would’ve been able to smash it to use it as a weapon.

  Nothing. There were three doors. One was the entrance the guard had exited from just a few moments ago. Another, she opened to see it was an empty closet. Again, she looked through the drawers, and they were all empty.