Mistress to a Monster Read online

  Damon tossed her toward the guards. Cuffs were placed around her wrists, and she stared at Damon, not caring if he saw her defiance or not. He would learn one way or another that she wasn’t to be messed with. She might not land a killing blow, but she would do whatever it took to be free.

  The guard wasn’t kind as he marched her across the gardens. They didn’t go to the house, but instead, he took her toward the left of the property, past several large trees, going up a slight incline, and she saw what appeared to be a crumbling building. It wasn’t. A hidden gate waited within, and the guard opened the lock.

  Milah didn’t say a word as they marched her inside the cave. The stench of earth and death met her senses. She didn’t see any skeletal remains, but the sound of scurrying rats unnerved her.

  She refused to show fear.

  The guard dumped her onto the floor. She splashed in muddy water and tried to contain her wince. She heard a metallic rattle and then the cuffs that were on her were replaced by chains, binding her wrists. The guard tested each chain, tugging at it, to see if it would give way. It didn’t.

  No one spoke.

  One look at the men, and she saw they were happy to see her like this. To them, she was a Russo. Not worthy of being cared for.

  He had locked her in a cage, close to a gutter. The stench repulsed her. She felt sick, but she didn’t beg them to let her go.

  She watched as they left the room one by one. With no one to see her, she flinched at the sound of the gate being locked. Alone, outside, in the dark, Milah tested how far she could go. There was nothing to protect her. No bed to offer her comfort.

  Nothing.

  She was all alone.

  The chains only allowed some movement. Her feet were bare, and she couldn’t contain her scream as something furry brushed past her feet.

  Rats. He’d put her with rats.

  Sickness swirled in her gut at what this could mean. Death by … what? The rats? The elements?

  She sank to her knees and stared toward the small pitch of light.

  Milah was afraid of the dark. Always had been.

  She stared at the light, watching the hours tick by. No food or water was brought to her. This was her punishment.

  The rats didn’t come near her after that first one.

  Tears filled her eyes as the light slowly began to ebb away, making way toward the darkness. With the dark, she had no choice but to close her eyes, to try to send herself to a happy place.

  Bad shit always happened in the dark.

  Her mother had always told her to take long, deep breaths and to try to think of all the good things in life. Right now, there was nothing good. Only fear.

  The night was closing in, and with it, fear clawed its way within her chest, threatening to take over.

  ****

  The maid wasn’t injured.

  The shot to the guard hadn’t even gone through bone. She had shot the fleshy part of his leg that only needed a few stitches, and he’d be healed in no time. Milah hadn’t done any lasting damage.

  Why not?

  Damon sat back, enjoying his medium-rare steak. It had been three days since he had sent her to the gutter. Most people who went there stayed there to die. He’d ordered food and water to be taken to her once a day.

  There was no reason for her to die. In the past, his father would have starved a person to death, or left their body to the rats. It was rare for him to do, and more often, only traitors were sent there. His father felt it rather poetic to allow rats to eat traitors.

  Damon smiled, sitting back, enjoying the warmth of his home.

  If Milah had given in, she would have been enjoying a fine life, but he’d seen the way she watched the door. Always assessing, and he’d been curious as to what she had been up to. He hadn’t warned his guards, wondering how they would react. Damon had told them all that they were not to kill her.

  Milah was to stay alive.

  He took a sip of his wine, a nice red to go with the beef that was cooked to perfection. He did love fine food, and he made sure his chef was well compensated for his services.

  Damon was enjoying the last bite of steak when James, the guard who was shot, came into the room. “Sir, it has been brought to my attention that Milah has not been given any food or water,” he said.

  Damon looked up. “What?”

  “I … today, I was in the kitchen, and the chef looked at the tray of food and tutted. No maid or guard has taken any food to Milah in the past three days.”

  Getting to his feet, Damon ordered James to bring the guards and the maids who had been in charge of taking care of Milah. James was the head soldier he’d put in place, but with his current injury, he was on rest until the stitches had healed. Even now, he was walking with a crutch to assist him.

  Within minutes, the seven guards and three maids were brought to him. His men stared straight ahead, and the maids looked down on the floor.

  “Who has been feeding Milah?” he asked.

  No one raised their hand.

  “What were my instructions?” He looked at his men and then toward the maids. One of the men stepped forward. He couldn’t recall his name, but he was a new soldier.

  “Sir, we felt it wasn’t right to feed her. She injured James and has no right to live, sir!”

  Rage rushed through his body. Damon pulled out his gun, removed the safety, and shot the guard twice, once in each leg. He screamed as blood seeped out onto the rug.

  “When I give an instruction, I expect it to be followed. James, you will keep them all here. They will all receive punishment.”

  He left the room, clicking his fingers for two of his guards to follow him. Damon had no choice but to grab a flashlight as he made his way toward the cells. His father installed this many years ago. At first, it had just been a cave, but with time, he’d made sure they could hold men, subjecting them to the elements.

  Damon didn’t want to kill Milah. He wanted to scare her into submitting.

  He unlocked the gate and charged forward, shining the light on the floor. He noticed several rats, and as he got closer, he saw Milah was on the floor with a few of the furry vermin around her.

  He swatted at them, trying to clear her body.

  Milah was passed out. Unresponsive.

  Shining the flashlight on her, he saw she was pale. Her lips were chapped, and she was freezing cold. After removing his jacket, he spread it over her. Not that it would do much to ward off the cold, but at least it was something. He’d never had a soldier show so much disrespect. He pressed two fingers to her neck and found her pulse. It was there, weak, but she was still alive.

  “Call for the doctor,” he said.

  He picked Milah up in his arms. Her body was nothing more than a dead weight.

  One of the guards stepped forward to help, but he growled at them to step back. He wasn’t in the mood to be argued with tonight. The guards heeded his warning, and they all stepped back. He quickly moved toward the entrance, taking her back to the house. The moment he entered the main hallway, he saw how ill she actually was. Her body was like ice.

  He didn’t take her to her room but carried her straight to his.

  “Leave!” He barked out the order, and the guards left immediately. He didn’t want or need any help in taking care of her.

  Carrying her through to the bathroom, he had no choice but to place her on the floor gently. He quickly started to run a warm bath, constantly checking for any sign of life in her body, but there were none.

  With every second that passed, his rage grew stronger. He wanted to kill that guard and the maids who dared to go against him. Their fates were already sealed. That was the problem with having young guards. They were foolish, always thinking with their dicks rather than their heads.

  With the water warm, but not hot, he eased Milah into the tub, climbing in with her. Warm water surrounded them, but still, Milah didn’t wake. While in the tub, he gently removed her clothing until she was completely naked. He didn’t take the time to admire her body, although he wanted to.

  The water was warm, and he held her close, removing his own clothes to help provide some warmth.

  He didn’t speak, and all that Milah did was moan from time to time. Her body shook, and he held her even tighter.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  “What?” he asked, yelling toward the sound.

  “The doctor has arrived.”

  “Give me ten minutes.” He didn’t want to let Milah go, but the doctor needed to see her to check on her.

  She finally stopped shaking, and he climbed out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his body, then doing the same to Milah.

  After carrying her toward his bed, he placed her beneath the covers and quickly changed before going to the door to make entry for the doctor.

  Doctor Pierce was a family doctor and the only one Damon trusted. Letting him in, he told him what had happened. Doctor Pierce tutted but got to work, assessing her. Damon stood, watching, waiting, seeing her look so pale.

  “There is a chance she might get sick and feverish,” Doctor Pierce said. “For now, prepare some soup. It will help, and some water.”

  Damon gave the order, and Pierce continued to treat her. “She does have a couple of bites on her body. I’m assuming from rats where you kept her. There is a chance of infection. She must be taken care of over the course of the next few days.” He looked behind him and shook his head. “I will return tomorrow to check on her. She will be in and out of it, but you must feed her. My bill?”

  “Will be handled, and it will be doubled,” he said.

  “I have served the De Luca family for many years, Damon. I have never known for them to treat a woman like this, unless they intended to end her life.”

>   “Get out,” Damon said. He didn’t need to be told by anyone what had happened here. This was a sign of disrespect, and if word got out that a soldier and maids dared to go against his word, there could be an uprising.

  At thirty-three years old, he was the youngest person to rule the De Luca empire. Many people felt he didn’t deserve the title or the role. Some had even tried to oppose him. They had all ended up dead, apart from family members he had demoted them to a lower rank within the De Luca family.

  His father had taught him there was no true family. Blood was not thicker than water, but power was everything. Only those who were willing to spill blood and die for you were the ones you kept close. That was what he did, but he also knew that he needed to keep his enemies closer still.

  It was a mixed balance of chaos of which he’d become the master.

  Standing by the bed, he looked down at Milah. Without her scowling or guarded, she was even more beautiful.

  He stepped away, going to his wardrobe where he grabbed a pair of sweatpants and one of his bed shirts. Once he’d removed the towel from her body, he eased the clothing over her and then tucked her back into bed.

  Every now and then, she would let out a whimper. Sometimes she’d call for her mother. He noticed she never once begged for her father. Even in her nightmares, her father was a waste of time.

  With one of the maid’s help, he fed her some soup, which wasn’t a lot. She was unconscious. For the first twenty-four hours, he stayed by her side. The doctor returned and didn’t like the look of her. He treated the rat bites and handed him some antibiotics. Now all they had to do was wait.

  He didn’t like waiting. Not for this.

  By the third night, James was much better, so Damon put him in charge while he made his way down toward the basement.

  Many lives had been lost in this very room. He looked around at the seven guards and three maids. All of whom were in a pool of their own piss and shit, the stench revolting, and he knew more lives would be haunting this very room.

  His property was always heavily guarded.

  The maids were taken from the women that were sold to them. He offered them a good life serving in his home, or to be one of the whores in the De Luca brothels. Many tried to become a maid to him, but he only accepted those that he knew wouldn’t take a good price. Ones men wouldn’t want to fuck.

  Life was cruel, but this way, they got to live, even if it meant to serve him. Most of them were strays and runaways, trying to find a better life.

  “So, you thought it was a good idea to go against my decision? To starve my guest?” he asked.

  “Sir, she is a Russo. She has no right to live,” the man he’d shot said. Damon hadn’t allowed his wounds to be treated, other than to be bound up to stop him from dying. He looked like the grim reaper was coming for him.

  After going to the far wall, he picked up one of the sharpest knives. The point seemed to glisten in the lamplight. Moving to the one he’d shot, he pointed the tip against his cheek, blood seeping through from that smallest of pressure.

  Drawing it back, he flicked the blade across the man’s cheek. “I’ll deal with you last.”

  With the first two men, he simply swiped the blade right across their throats, watching the blood spill down their bodies. The third, he plunged the blade into his eye, drawing it out. This now left three more men and three women. He’d never been the kind to take pleasure from scaring women, but none of them had come to him to warn him. They knew his rules. They were not newbies. They listened to the guard rather than their master, and for that, he slit their throats one by one until all three were dead.

  The other three guards were dragged out along with the one shot. His men dragged them back to the cave, where he was sure to nick their flesh so the rats would come. With them all chained up, there was no chance of escape.

  As with all things, rumor would spread about what he did today.

  He didn’t care. This was a mercy as far as he was concerned. He could do far worse.

  Locking the gate, he heard their screams. Their begs. Their pleas, but they all fell on deaf ears. They were going to die for what they did.

  As Damon stepped away, he paused. Why did it matter to him that they suffer? Milah meant nothing to him. She was merely a toy to be played with.

  Pushing any concerns to the back of his mind, he stepped forward and continued walking. With every step he took, the sounds of their screams started to fade until he heard nothing at all.

  Chapter Three

  Milah was chained to the bed.

  It wasn’t her bed either, but Damon’s.

  The breakfast maid had entered ten minutes ago and had plumped up her pillows.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  Milah looked at the young woman and didn’t know what to say to her. She felt weak and hated that she was once again at the mercy of Damon De Luca. Last night, she had heard one of the guards talking. She’d been locked away with the rats for three days.

  Three days out in the cold with no food or water. She remembered the feel of the rats as they touched her. Their tiny feet digging into her body as they moved. The sharp pain of their teeth.

  She had fought them off for the first day. The second was much harder. With no sleep and nothing to keep her strength up, she had fallen.

  Weakness was something she couldn’t abide.

  She didn’t know if anyone heard her scream for help, or her begs, but it had all fallen on nothing. No one had come.

  For a brief moment, she had prayed for death. Wanted it.

  Even now, she wanted to sink into her pit of misery at how useless her situation was, but she kept the tears at bay.

  “I … I heard that Mr. De Luca dealt with those responsible for hurting you,” the maid said. “They won’t be here anymore.”

  “Why?” she asked, finally speaking.

  “They’re dead.” The maid nodded at her.

  “What’s your name?” Milah asked.

  “I’m simply Maid,” she said.

  Milah shook her head. “No, it’s not. What is your name?”

  “It’s Glory.”

  “Hi, Glory,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Milah. Milah Russo.”

  Glory took her hand. The other woman’s was nice and warm. “I know who you are.”

  “Do you hate me too?” Milah asked.

  “I have no reason to hate you.” Glory smiled at her.

  “I’m a Russo. A sworn enemy of De Luca. Trust me, you won’t be the first person to hate me because of my last name.”

  Glory shrugged. “I guess I’m not like most people. I don’t see the fight you all have.”

  “Why are you here?” Milah asked. Maybe if she got one of the maids to like her, that might be her key to getting out of here alive. It was a long shot, but right now, anything would beat being locked up.

  The darkness. The rats. The chains. It had all been too much.

  She grabbed the cuff that was locked around her wrist. Even this one was too much for her to bear. She struggled to keep her panic from rising.

  “I … I … was given a choice.” Glory dropped her head. “I could work here and be protected by Mr. De Luca, or I could sell my body to whoever wanted me, for however long.”

  Milah closed her eyes. She knew of the whorehouses. The women who were bought and sold for the profit of men. She hated it.

  Staring at Glory, she knew the woman would make a nice living, but she didn’t have what it took. Milah saw that.

  She used to hide while her father would have these meetings. Where women would be forced to strip naked and he’d assess them. He would grade them on their beauty, and at times, even their ability to suck cock. Not his own, but a guard’s. It revolted her, but she knew the only way to truly survive was to know what she was up against.

  It would seem De Luca was no different than Russo.

  “Do you have any family?” Milah asked.

  Glory shook her head. “No family. Nothing. Just a foster kid trying to get away from a bad situation.”

  Milah nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  There was a commotion at the door, and Glory quickly bowed her head. “I better be going. I hope you get well, Miss Russo.”

  “Please, call me Milah,” she said.