Heartless Prince by Brook Wilder

 

Chapter 20

Leda

 

I picked at the comforter with my fingers, watching as the sun started to sink in the sky. Another day down. Was the word now out to Nico that I had been purchased by Don Valentino? Was he starting to scramble resources to find me?

 

Was my father aware of what had transpired? Did he even care?

 

I traded one prison for another. But this time, there was no ending that I could see.

 

Sighing, I moved off the bed and crossed the room for what seemed like the hundredth time today, wishing there was something—anything—else that I could do. There were no books, no TV, nothing to keep me entertained in this room. And I wasn’t stupid enough to step outside of it on the off-chance that this would be another one of Valentino’s tests.

 

The only interaction I had had today was the guard that had brought me my lunch, which had consisted of a salad and the best salmon I had tasted in quite a while.

 

I briefly thought about throwing it against the wall and demanding to see Valentino, but my hunger won out in the end and I devoured the food.

 

The guard made sure that everything was back on the plate when he returned to pick up the dishes. The only thing I was allowed to keep was the water bottle.

 

I was a crap prisoner if I wasn’t constantly looking for a way out of here. Maybe it was because I was wearing lingerie and had no wish to traipse through the woods again barefoot.

 

Maybe I had given up.

 

I shook my head.

 

No, I hadn’t given up, not even in the slightest.

 

I just had to be more strategic in the way that I got out of here. I had to play Valentino and beat him at his own game. I knew he wanted me to be panting after him, to rely on him for everything so that he could say he had won.

 

I wanted him to do the same with me. I wanted him to lose control again and again until he couldn’t remember what he even wanted to control in the first place.

 

I wanted him to take his tastes of me and not be able to get enough. Could I delay the inevitable moment when he would demand that I spread my legs for him? No, probably not.

 

But there was a part of me that wondered if I could get him to be the one who begged me.

 

Picturing Valentino begging between my legs brought a smile to my face, but the image also brought that bothersome heat to my gut at the same time. I didn’t know how he had such a quick hold on me, on my body, after one orgasm and him shoving his cock in my mouth. It was crazy, really.

 

It would have to be a fine line that I’d walk. Push him too far, and too hard, and he might just take what he wants from me by force.

 

But there was no other way to find out.

 

I had no choice but to press his buttons. I needed to take him to the brink of what he thought he controlled, and make him realize he wasn’t as much in control as he would like to be. I had to mess up his carefully laid plans for me, and I was pretty sure there was only one way to do that.

 

I would have to become the spoiled brat he imagined me to be.

 

Up until this moment, I had done everything he had said. I had put on the clothes he had offered, stayed in this room even though I was bored to the point of tears, and eaten the food he offered.

 

In short, I obeyed.

 

I hadn’t given him a reason to think I would defy him, aside from my one single desperate attempt at an escape.

 

Maybe that was the problem.

 

I could play the spoiled princess rather well. After all, it came out every once and a while when I hung out with the wrong crowd. I found it too easy to get caught up in the lives of the rich and famous, too easy to demand things that I wouldn’t have normally demanded otherwise.

 

The few times I had participated in a runway walk, I had luxuries sent to my dressing room because I could. Granted, I felt horrible afterwards, especially at the thought of forcing the staff to run around and make it happen, no matter how unreasonable the demand had been.

 

But I could still do it.

 

And at any rate, I wasn’t about to feel bad for what I was going to do to Valentino or his staff. As far as I was concerned, every person who saw me in this house was complicit in my captivity. Every single one of them could have chosen to help me. And in the end, none of them ever did.

 

So, yeah. He wanted to be in control? I’d show him just how out of control I could be.

 

I just hoped I could handle any fallout that might take place in response to my act of rebellion.

 

I wished I knew more about him so I could do more than just try and piss him off.

 

Think, Leda, think. He took you for a reason. Why? Getting back at father didn’t require YOU.

 

I needed to find out more about him. I needed to uncover the unforeseen bad experience in his life and bring it to the forefront.

 

But that was the thought that I feared most of all: I was afraid that if I knew too much about him, it might be enough to make me unable to quit him.

 

What if his past is so dark that I ended up falling for him?

 

What if bringing up that past made him lose control in the worst of ways?

 

Would he spank me again? A secret thrill ran through my body at the thought of his hand on my ass, drawing out the spark of pain that had nearly sent me into an orgasm alone. I hadn’t known that I could like something like that—equal parts humiliation and equal parts pain.

 

What else would he draw out from within me?

 

There had been a moment today that I had caught a glimpse of him climbing out of an SUV when it pulled up under the balcony. I had crept over to the curtains and watched him interact with what probably was his second-in-command.

 

I wondered where he had gone and what he had done during that time. Did he go to taunt my father about having me in his grasp? Was he gloating to the other Dons about the fact that I was back here at his mansion, waiting for his touch?

 

I felt like that would be the worst of it all: the idea that I was here, waiting for him. The power he held over me with that simple action of neglect was more than I could’ve ever expected. He knew he could move on with his day—even with the D’Agostino princess in his home—but he knew I would agonize every little decision.

 

Well, two can play that game, and he was about to see what sort of princess he had acquired.