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  Abducted by the Billionaire

  Melanie Flowers

  Copyright © 2014

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  No part of this ebook may be reproduced, stored in a database, or transmitted in any form, by any means, electronic, photographic, recorded, mechanical or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Abducted by the Billionaire

  I storm through the empty underground parking lot, slam the door and hit the steering wheel.

  “Fuck,” I scream aloud not caring who can hear me. I've worked at this place, for this long and this is how they repay me? Repay me with passive-aggressive bullshit? I punch the wheel again. How could he go behind my back and try to shut my team down? I never expected this. I've worked like a maniac for this place. Hell, I'm only twenty-five and already on six-figures. What makes it worse is that bastard thinks he's won. Why did he say in the staff meeting? 'To get back on track we need to keep the meat and lose the fat'. I know that fucker was talking about me. He's always made sarcastic comments about my weight. I slam the wheel again, fury within every pore of my being. Well, fucker, I love myself and my curves.

  I slump my face and arms on the steering wheel. My outrage taking everything out of me.

  My eyes open. I hear something. Something in the car. I sit bolt upright and fix my eyes on the mirror. Before I can even comprehend the two masked men in the back of my car, a hand is shoved over my mouth. I try to scream, but a muffle comes out. I claw my nails like a banshee at the anonymous man who is gripping me, but the leather he's wearing stops me from doing any damage. They pull me into the back, kicking and screaming. I punch, I lash out, but they're too strong for me. They press me down against the back seat and roughly tie my hands behind my back. What the fuck do they want? Why the fuck are they doing this to me? I feel vulnerable. More vulnerable than I've ever felt in my life. The attacker gripping my face rolls me onto my side and shoves a ball gag into my terrified lips.

  “Stop struggling bitch,” the other grunts out as he slips a blindfold over my eyes. Just before my world becomes black, I catch a glimpse of the front of his jacket and the badge on it. Then realisation hits me like a thunderbolt. That's the logo of the dating site! Anna, this is what you wanted. You signed up for this!

  The car door clicks open. They haul me out with force. A coarse hand thrusts down the neck of my dress and steals a feel of my body. They shove me into the trunk and it slams shut.

  “Did you see the body on that?” I hear the muted voices through the thick metal.

  “Hot as fuck,” the other replies. “Can you believe these bitches sell themselves to them?”

  “Tell me about it. Wish I had the green.”

  I lie back in the trunk, my wrists hurting from the binding. They're right. I've sold myself willingly. Sold myself willing to a billionaire.

  The doors slam shut and my assailants speed off to an unknown location. I remember back to what I was told in safety lessons during college. That to get an identification for the police you must focus on what your attacker looks like. Well I couldn't get anything from these two. They are covered from head to toe. I couldn't even tell their height, let alone race.

  I thought back to last Wednesday. It was such a stressful day at work. I headed home and after a glass of wine too many found myself browsing dating websites. I've been so lonely recently and the hours I'm doing means I have no chance of meeting a guy the ordinary way. It looked so innocuous thinking back. A click here and a click there and I was at a billionaire matchmaking site. I was drawn in by the tagline, 'They can have it all – now they want YOU'. I thought what the hell and uploaded my picture. After a glass of wine or two more I browsed hot men in the local area, found one I liked and then sent a message. Instantly I received a document in my inbox. I thought it was a gimmick, you know - they want you, and part of the marketing strategy. It asked me if I relinquish all will of my own and agree to become the property of the man I chose. I remember it made me smile. A big silly smile. But now I know. It was a waiver and I had signed myself away. Agreed to be abducted.

  I try to stretch, but the trunk is too small. I can't move more than an inch. What have I done? How could I be so stupid? Blindfolded, my only senses are smell and touch. My nostrils fill with he cheap strength of diesel and the binds that hold my hands cut off all blood flow. I know they are going blue and the tightness will leave big red marks on my wrists. If I ever got the shackles off that is.

  We've been driving for hours now. I tried to get some clue as to where we've been heading, but it's been useless. The first few miles, I could make out the city. The hustle and bustle and the familiar noises of the city I knew so well, but then it all stopped. We reached the outskirts and with it the long impersonal, hum of the highway. For the last hour, I've been tossed and shaken where I am kept. I'm being driven down quiet country roads. I fight with all of my strength one final time. It's no good. There's no hope for me. Fuck, Anna what were you thinking?

  The engine slows and I feel the car turning. I'm being driven across gravel and the car stops. I hear the handbrake echo out. The muffled voices of the two men return.

  “Get her out and down there,” one tells the other what is to be my fate. What the fuck do they mean? Fear cuts through me. What the fuck is going to happen to me? I don't want to consider, to even think. All I know is that the tiredness that I felt from struggling all the way here, becomes a distant memory. My blood is energised with the need to escape.

  The boot raises and I kick out, fighting for my life. I hit one of my kidnappers in the chest and I knock him, but I can only fight for so long tied up and on my back. One of them grabs my throat and slams me back into the trunk. Hard. “Behave bitch,” he yells. I wish I could have fought more, but those words cut through me like a knife and I'm terrified. I shake in the back, part terror, and part the cool night air on my legs and chest. From that moment on, all I can think about is that I must be compliant.

  The two men lift me from the trunk and my heels drop off never to be seen again. One grips my shoulders, the other takes hold of my legs. I try to listen out for any sign of where I may be, but all I can hear is the chirping of birds. It's like the world I know is so far away. They carry me across to wherever I am going. They take me inside. I can make out the faint glimmer of lights through my blindfold. They lug me down stairs, each step by them jolts me. The stairs go deeper and deeper. I try to count to get my mind off the fear of what's happening, but I lose track at eighty-eight. There's a pause. The one leading me kicks open a door and we enter a room. They lie me down on soft carpet.

  “Get her clothes off and then in the chair,” one tells the other. I feel one of the men kneel next to me and the metallic steel of a knife pressed against my chest. I scream and kick out at the touch.

  “Relax bitch,” the hand is against my throat again preventing any air from entering. “We ain't gonna hurt you.” I freeze. Not because of his words, but the distress of having that hand against my throat again.

  The sharp metal faintly touches my chest again and I understand what he's doing. The blade slides down my dress, cutting through the material. It slides all the way down my body from my chest, to my stomach. All the way down. The room I am in is warm, but goosebumps coat my bare skin. My bra and panties are exposed to their eyes. I can feel them lookin
g.

  “Get it in the bag,” They roll me onto my front and the dress, what's left of it, is torn from me. I hear it being shoved into plastic. “She wearing any jewellery?”

  “Just that.” It's the necklace I'm wearing. Just some cheap silver thing I've had for years.

  “Then get it.” The other man reaches between my cleavage with his leather clad fist and pulls the jewellery from me in one savage tug.

  “What about her panties?” My whole bodies tenses when the words hit my ears. His accomplice laughs.

  “Those ain't for you.” They lift me into a chair, my lip quiver. I can feel their filthy, lecherous eyes on me. I want to scream, but can't with this gag. I feel the knife against my wrist. The edge feels even sharper against that sensitive and vulnerable spot. In one movement it's up and the cord wrapping my hands is gone. Any relief I get quickly disappears. In a second, the binding is instantly replaced by handcuffs. The coldness of the steel makes me shiver.

  “Upstairs,” the more dominant one leads and I hear the thud of their footsteps as they leave me. Leave me half naked and chained to a chair. The slamming of a door pierces through my ears.

  I wriggle in my seat and pull at the cuffs. There's no way I am getting out. Fuck, I just wish I could get this gag out. It's hurting my jaw. I push my tongue at it, but my teeth are blocking it from going anywhere. I shiver at the thought of what may come. Who knows what may come through that door next. I shudder at the thought.

  I try to piece together the night I signed up to that dating site. For any clue that might give me an idea of where I am or who has got me here. Focus Anna, focus. Think back to who took your eye and who you messaged. Nothing is coming. Just clouded thoughts thanks to a whole bottle of Merlot. Then a face appears in my minds eye from the void. I see a face. His hair is auburn. He's in his thirties. The side-parting. Exceptionally good-looking, but in a hard and impersonal sort of way. Try to remember Anna, try. You need more than that.

  A door creeks open. It's faint. There's someone coming. The faint shuffle of steps on the carpet is unmistakeable. Whoever they are, they're coming for me. My whole body stiffens as the stress of the situation hits me. My legs shake and my head falls back in a whimper. I'm a strong and assertive career woman, but all semblance of that has left me. I'm a wreck who is only hoping for rescue. Who would do anything to be rescued. I can feel they're close. They're standing. Standing just feet from me.

  A hand darts out and clutches my hair, pulling me. They want my attention. I gasp out. My fear muffled by the gag. My chest tightens and I can feel mascara tears running down my cheeks. Fuck, don't do this. Please don't do this. A thumb works it's way under the blindfold. It's lifted and I'm hit with blinding light. My eyes adjust. I clench them together, then force them to focus. I see. Standing before me is a woman. A woman dressed from head to toe in red, and a dress and high heels that would make a stripper blush.

  “Welcome,” she drawls in a thick Russian accent. “Too much make-up for him,” she rubs harshly at my eyes. My head is tossed back. She unclasps the ball gag and lets it drop. I can speak.

  “What? Where am I?” I plead. “Help me please.”

  “You foolish girl,” she rolls her eyes. “You know where you are.”

  “Please, you've got to help me. I don't want this.”

  “Silly girl,” her accent becomes thicker. “You signed up for this. You want this.”

  “Please. I didn't know. You have to help me.”

  “Quiet. I was like you when I first came here, but the fear you are feeling quickly goes.”

  “But plea---,” before I can finish speaking I am slapped across the face.

  “Silence you stupid child,” she screams while taking a handful of my hair. “You will learn to love this. You will learn to love him.”

  “Him?” I stammer. “Who?”

  “Are you really this dense?” She laughs, mockingly. “You know who.”

  Then a name hit me. Hit me like a tonne of bricks. A name to go with the face I had pieced together from earlier. Alexander Sauniere.

  She releases my hair and draws a red painted fingernail down my face, across the vein of my neck and then down to my chest. “Yes, he will like you.” She turns and walks from me. For the first time, I can see where I am. I look around the room. Affluent as a description wouldn't do it justice. Overhead there is a chandelier. My bare feet rest upon the most luxurious carpet I have ever felt. Before me is a four-poster bed, a dining table that could seat a family and fine art litters the walls. Hell, there is even a chaise lounge in here. It's like I have stepped back in time to the reign of Louis XIV. After taking the wealth of the room in my eyes turn back to my captor. She carries a knife.

  “No, no!” I scream out. “Please, God no!” I shake in my chair looking for release. I fall back, still in the chair I'm bound to.

  “Stupid -------!” I can't make out what she is saying. It isn't English. “Get up!” She pulls me upright with one hand. She's strong. “Don't try anything like that again!”

  “That knife!” My mouth is agape with shock. I gasp out for air. Nothing is reaching my chest.

  “Silly child,” she draws it up to my chest and cuts my bra. It falls open, exposing me to her. She cackles and runs the knife across my vulnerable chest. The bitch must love terrifying me. She lifts a breast with a painted nail. “Firm, well-formed, pretty,” she speaks almost clinically. “Yes, he will like these.” She leans over and eyes me like a piece of meat. Her eyes drop to my thighs. I clench them together protectively. “And these,” she grips the soft, delicate flesh. “He's been wanting a shapely girl like you for a long time.”

  She walks back to the table and places the knife down with a smile. She lifts a collar and twirls it on her wrist as she brings it to me. For the first time, I notice she is wearing a similar one.

  “What's that?”

  “Oh this?” She catches it and raises it to just inches from my face. “This will be yours.”

  “Why do I need that?” I picture its metal around my throat, gripping.

  “For your own good,” she smirks. “Us girls have these here to ensure we don't do anything stupid.”

  “Like what?”

  “Run away!” She howls out with laughter as she spins behind me. “This,” she clamps it around my neck, “Prevents you from leaving the quarters.” I run a finger under the collar. “Don't do that,” she shakes a finger. “You'll cause yourself an injury.”

  “What?”

  “They have a tendency to explode,” she howls with laughter again. “But know your role and you will be fine here.” The collar beeps and I pull my finger away. Fuck.

  “I still don't understand,” I manage to squeak out. “Who are you?”

  “I'm Ivana, you silly girl, and I have the displeasure of readying you for Alexander.” Ivana, though she wore next to nothing, pulled a key out from God-knows-where and undid my handcuffs. I grab my wrists. They're red and sore.

  I'll explain the rest, as it was mainly me, confused and frightened, asking questions over and over and Ivana increasingly becoming angrier. I want to make this as clear as possible.

  Alexander Sauniere is an extremely powerful man. Extremely with a capital e. Ivana told me that he is Old World aristocracy and his family fled some revolution or other, but she is vague on details and informs me that I don't need to know any more. To be honest I don't think she knows more than this, but I wouldn't dare to tell her that. She has a tendency of smacking me into submission. As befitting a man of Alexander Sauniere's status, Ivava says, he has a harem. I have been brought here to fulfil what has been described as 'a much needed role'. Alexander has been looking for a suitably curvaceous and buxom woman to add to his entourage of concubines for a long time. This is where I fit in. I am the 'jewel in his crown' as Ivana puts it. Always with an annoyed sneer.

  To be honest, more than anything else that happened today, this shocked me the most. I've always been full figured, but, you know, it's always b
een a worry for me. Don't get me wrong, I love my shape, but I've always been pressured into feeling it's a bit too much for today's world. Even when I'm dressed to kill and flaunting my hourglass figure, the moment I see some skinny bitch walking past me I start to question everything. As odd as it sounds, when I heard that I was chosen by a man like Alexander my heart skipped a beat. Especially when a leggy Russian sex bomb was telling me that.

  Ivana is unwilling to provide me with details, but I am told that there are many girls in the harem that cater to every aspect of Alexander's tastes. She tells me not to expect to meet any other concubine until I have passed my induction phase. When I cautiously ask her what happens if I fail, she places both hands on her hips gives me a disdainful laugh.

  I have now been here for two weeks. Even though I have been taken away from everything I know, I've adjusted relatively easy and got into a routine. It's extremely regimented, like I would imagine a prison to be. Though there is no jail like this. In the morning I'm awoken by an alarm and it is time for breakfast. I am not allowed to choose my breakfast or anything else that we place in our mouths. Me, and I presume the other girls, are given a strict diet to maintain our figures and skin. Luckily for me, I love what we eat. Though it does feel like more than I'm used to. I'm served the most luxuriant of meals. Beautifully cooked meat and fish with vegetables of every colour. Then a hamper with every fruit you could imagine. Did you know there is a thing called a dragon fruit? I didn't either! All of this is served by maids, though Ivana forbids any talking between us. This all makes me feel like a thoroughbred horse being prepared for its first race.

  After the maids have cleared breakfast away, I'm required to exercise. Like with the meals this is regimented and Ivana assess me with critical precision. She has assessed that I need to tone my ass and has put me on an exercise routine. All of this is having a huge affect. Every time I a pass a mirror I can't believe how clear and radiant my skin has become.