Heartless Prince by Brook Wilder
Chapter 2
Leda
A sapphire blue carpet greeted me as I was pushed forward, and I was surprised to see the bright lights of a chandelier above my head. Music floated from somewhere unseen, and I could hear faint laughter in the distance. The tantalizing smell of bread made my stomach rumble despite the predicament I was in. I hadn’t eaten since lunch.
“This way,” my kidnapper said and took me away from the carpet down a hallway before she shoved me into a room.
Inside, there was nothing but a rack of clothing and a single dour-faced woman giving me the up-and-down over her black-rimmed glasses.
“Thank you, you may leave.”
My kidnapper snorted and walked off, shutting the door behind me and muttering something about not getting paid enough.
“I need help,” I said immediately as the woman shuffled over to the clothing rack and riffled through the hangers. “Please.”
She didn’t acknowledge my presence and continued going through the rack, picking up different outfits—each skimpier than the last—and muttering to herself. I walked to the door, grabbed the handle, and gave it a turn.
The door didn’t budge.
Tamping down my panic, I turned back to find the woman staring at me. “Take your clothes off,” she said in a grating voice. “We don’t have all night.”
I blinked. “What?”
She waved at my dress. “Take it off, or I’ll do it for you.”
“I’m not taking off my dress,” I said in a small voice. “Where am I? What is going on?”
The woman’s mouth twisted in an unpleasant frown. “You’re really going to make me do this the hard way?”
She advanced on me, and I pressed my back against the door, my mind racing. I could take her. I could knock her out easily enough. But that wouldn’t get me anywhere. There were no windows in this room, no other way out except the door I was currently pressed against.
“Please,” I begged. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
She rolled her eyes. “Last chance to take it off willingly.”
I glanced at her gnarled hands and decided that I would rather take my own clothing off. “Fine. Fine, just give me a moment.”
“Be quick about it.” The woman nodded and stepped back, a replacement dress with a plunging neckline in her hand. “They have no problem dragging you out there naked.”
My hands trembled as I reached for the straps of my sundress, shimmying it down my hips with tears in my eyes. I wasn’t a prude by any means, having grown up around not only the Mafia but also the glittering world of high fashion.
I heard plenty of stories about the debauchery of the rich and powerful behind closed doors. Yet despite my best attempt at sneaking into those to get a look in person, my brother Nico and the reputation of my father’s name always kept me out.
This felt different. More dangerous.
“Bra too,” she stated. “It won’t work with the dress.”
Glad that I had put on a decent pair of panties this morning, I unclasped my bra and let it fall to the floor, the cool air causing my nipples to pucker. I’d honed my body in top form, regularly running and practicing yoga to keep up with my crazy lifestyle.
Still, my hips flared more than I cared for them to. And my boobs, well, they were on the slightly bigger-than-average side.
“Here,” the woman stated, thrusting the dress at me. “Put this on, and put your hair down. They like that.”
They? I thought I was being taken to my husband? I hurriedly put on the dress, finding the neckline plunging past the valley between my breasts to the top of my navel. The bottom hem barely covered my ass.
“Who are they? What’s going on?” I asked, tugging on the ponytail holding my hair. Chestnut layers fell around my face, and I resisted the urge to run my fingers through them.
“Better,” the woman said instead as a knock sounded on the door. “Time to go.”
I drew in a breath as the door opened, and the same man from before was standing there, his bored eyes barely flickering over my lack of clothing. “Everybody ready?”
“She is.” The woman nudged me with her arm. “Go on now. Don’t keep them waiting.”
I hesitated. The man sighed and grabbed for my arm. “Let’s go, princess. Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder.”
His fingers bit into the upper flesh of my arm. I winced as his thumb rubbed my skin obscenely before he dragged me out of the room. My sandals slid on the hardwood floor.
“Try to run,” he whispered in my ear. “And I will kill you. I don’t care who the fuck you are.”
The dark tone of his voice sent shivers down my spine, but before I could think about it, I was at a small set of stairs, the sounds of conversation louder now.
“Go on,” he stated, pushing me toward the first step.
I didn’t want to, but what choice did I have? I bit my lip until it hurt and walked up the stairs, finding myself on some sort of stage. The blue curtain blocked my view of what was waiting on the other side, but the noise was louder, and I briefly debated running the other way, not caring what happened to me.
I didn’t know how far south my father’s plans had gone, but I knew for a fact that my new husband was not on the other side of the curtain.
