Chapter 27

ELLA

I still lay in bed hours later, drawing imaginary circles and patterns on the sheets with the tip of my finger. It had been the worst day of my life from start to finish.

I hadn’t slept, eaten, and besides one glass of water, I’d had nothing to drink either. But I wasn’t thinking about that anymore. I was numb to it.

Andrea had returned two hours after he left but didn’t come upstairs, which I was eternally grateful for. The thought of seeing him made me feel sick to the stomach and intensified the dull ache in my head.

“Blanca!” his voice called from the stairs as I heard his footsteps come up. “Get up, it’s time to cook.”

I internally groaned but didn’t move an inch.

He then reached the room, which had grown dark, and flicked on the light. He was in my visual field, but I refused to look at him.

“You look like shit,” he said. “Have a shower and find some clothes to change into. Or I’ll do it for you.”

I didn’t respond or even move until he had left the room, at which point I slowly sat up and ran my fingers through my knotty hair.

The bathroom was bright, and the dazzling light burned my eyes, but I forced myself into the shower where the hot water and steam brought at least some comfort.

Being clean of Andrea’s touch was a relief too. I then wrapped myself in the largest towel possible and searched through the drawers looking for something to wear.

I eventually found a drawer with women’s clothes in it. They all seemed unworn and clean but also slightly obscene.

I found the least revealing skirt there was and the loosest shirt, but all the underwear was clearly designed to be seen.

I sighed at all the red lace and thongs and grabbed the first panties and first bra I saw, not caring if they matched.

After buttoning the shirt all the way up and pulling the skirt as far down as possible so that my panties weren’t on show, I headed downstairs.

When I got downstairs, Andrea had laid out some spaghetti, tomatoes, herbs, and other various ingredients you needed to make spaghetti Bolognese. He was fortunately nowhere to be seen, so I got to work cutting onions and garlic.

“Finally doing as you are told, I see,” he said as he came into the kitchen. “That didn’t take long. Why did your alpha have so much trouble with you?”

Because he cares about me and would never hurt me.

“I don’t know,” I replied quietly.

I then felt him draw up behind me and put his hands under my armpits and toward my chest. I froze and stared down at the knife in my hand as he reached for the buttons on my shirt.

“That’s better,” he said after he had undone the top four buttons and pulled my skirt up a little. “I don’t want you hiding your body…especially from my business partners.”

He then smacked my ass and disappeared out of the kitchen, leaving me still with the knife in my hand. That was the perfect opportunity to kill the bugger, but I was…scared.

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang, and Andrea immediately left his office to open it.

“Andrea! Hola!” an unfamiliar voice greeted.

“Giovanni, Pablo, Rafael! It’s good to see you again,” Andrea replied, before three strangers appeared in the kitchen.

“And who’s this?” one asked instantly, seeing me behind the counter. He was clearly Hispanic but obviously wanted me to understand what he was saying and could tell I was more likely to understand English.

“Ah!” Andrea said, his eyes lighting up. “This is my new bitch. Ella Jones, Luna of Alpha Leonardo Loren.”

“Loren’s mate…,” one said, eyeing me. “Good catch, Andrea. But I’ve heard about her. Doesn’t she give the alpha a run for his money? Always running away, disobeying, talking back…etc.…”

“Eh,” Andrea said with a shrug. “I managed to put her in her place nice and quick. If you know what I mean.”

They all nodded and laughed between themselves. Haha, so funny.

They sat around the table for the next twenty minutes as I cooked, talking loudly and drinking beer. Every now and then, Andrea would look up and eye me, giving me an approving nod that I was doing what I was supposed to be.

“Had you ever been with a man other than your alpha, Blanca?” one of them asked as I tested the pasta to see if it was cooked.

“No,” I replied.

“Ahh, you saved your virginity for him then?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“How sweet,” Andrea jeered.

“Who’d you think would be better in bed, Alpha Loren or Andrea?” the one I believed to be Pablo asked.

“Answer wisely,” another warned.

“Andrea,” I replied, after a long pause.

“That’s my girl,” Andrea said, “now get us more beers.”

“She’s hot. How much for a night?” one asked as I walked to the fridge.

“I’m not sharing, Giovanni,” Andrea replied. “She’s mine.”

“Shame. What about a kiss?”

“Hmm…fifty thousand,” Andrea suggested as I got four beers out the fridge and brought them back to the table.

“Deal,” Giovanni replied. Unfortunately, I was standing next to him as I handed out the beers, meaning his hand could easily slide up the inside of my leg.

For some reason, I looked at Andrea for help, but he did nothing but laugh. I felt a sudden wave of anger. Why the hell was I letting them get away with this? I’d help my fucking self.

“Get off me,” I hissed, grabbing Giovanni’s hand and twisting it back behind his back before pushing his head into the table. He let out a whimper to which the other three around the table laughed at.

“You’re gonna let a woman treat you like that, Giovanni?” Pablo asked. “Look at the size of her. You’re making yourself look weak.”

He tried to get out of my grip, but I held him tight, fueled by anger and adrenaline.

“Blanca, let him go,” Andrea ordered after I had been holding his arm awkwardly bent for ten or so seconds. “Ella,” he repeated.

I completely ignored Andrea, which led him to promptly get out of his seat and effortlessly prize me off his friend.

“Fucking bitch,” Giovanni cursed as he stood up and straightened himself up.

Giovanni then hit me hard across the face as Andrea held my arms down by my sides.

There were a few moments of absolute silence before he lurched forward and repulsively kissed me on the lips as he held my face in his dirty great hands, and Andrea held me still.

His breath reeked of beer, and his skin smelled of cigarettes.

“Just a second,” Andrea said to his friends when he was quite done, before hauling me out of the kitchen and up the stairs into his room.

“You fucking deserved that. I would have done it harder myself.” He growled, roughly wiping the blood off my nose with a tissue.

“I don’t like that man, and he is worthless to me, but if I tell you to do something, you do it, right?”

I nodded.

“So why didn’t you let go of him when I told you to?” he asked, bringing his face close to mine and shaking me by my shoulders. “I don’t want them thinking I can’t control a fucking woman.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Just please don’t let him touch me again.”

“Depends how much he offers me, babe. I’ve made fifty thousand off you already tonight. So you’re going to come back downstairs, serve our dinner, not speak unless spoken to, and do everything I tell you to, got it?”

I nodded again, and he dragged me back downstairs.

“I thought you had her on a leash, Andrea?” Giovanni asked as we came back into the kitchen.

“Oh, I do. She’d never dare to even try to do that to me,” he replied, sitting back down as I got the pasta out of the pan.

“See, women are like animals chasing prey. If they think they can take you, they will. She obviously perceived you as weak.”

I bit my tongue at his nineteenth-century comparison and said everything I wanted to say to him in my head.

“Hmm,” Giovanni said with a forced smile, before swigging half his beer.

Five minutes later, I was serving them their meals. Andrea insisted that I sit next to him and eat something too.

Truthfully, I was now starving, but the eyes of four disgusting men staring at me while I tried to eat was off-putting—to say the very least.

“What’s up, Blanca?” Andrea asked halfway through the meal. His hand rested on my bare leg as he looked me in the eye. “Your food is good. Why aren’t you eating?”

“I’m not hungry,” I replied, wary of where his hand was and how tightly he was now gripping.

“Eat,” he said imperatively.

I looked down and picked up my fork, and he took his hand off.

When the meal was over, I cleared up, and Andrea made me sit with his friends for hours. They drank beer after beer and joked about sexist, racist, and homophobic things that I didn’t find the slightest bit funny.

They also made inappropriate comments about me and then Leo and then our kids.

“So, what do you want with Loren’s mate anyway?” Giovanni asked. He’d been staring at me for some time without a word and still seemed to be fuming from earlier. “She seems more bother than she’s worth.”

“Four reasons. One, she’s hot and very fuckable. Two, she’s a little trophy giving me the one up on the supposed most powerful man in the world. Three, Loren messed with me, so I’m going to mess with him.

“And finally, I want his pack, and we all know stealing a man’s mate is the best way to control him,” Andrea explained.

My eyes widened at the final reason. Andrea wants the pack?

“So you’re planning for world takeover?” Pablo asked.

“Pretty much. And this little one is going to help me,” he replied.

“But not yet. He’s twenty-nine right now and probably the strongest he’s ever been. We’ll leave him for five years with eight kids but no mate and see how he’s doing then.”

“So you plan to keep her for five years?” Giovanni asked. “Surely you could spare one night.”

“I don’t think you can handle her,” Andrea said with a laugh. “You might end up dead.”

Giovanni narrowed his eyes. “I’d like to see what she does with a gun to her head.”

Andrea paused for a moment before turning to me.

“Blanca, stand up,” he ordered. I reluctantly did, and he pointed to the spot on the other side of the table next to Giovanni. I gingerly walked over there, cursing them all to hell.

“Ordinarily I wouldn’t allow this, but to make up for what happened earlier, it feels right. Blanca, get down on your knees.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Don’t ask questions. Just do it,” he replied sternly.

I stared blankly at Andrea, but he only raised an eyebrow, urging me to do it. So I slowly knelt on the floor, and Giovanni grabbed my hair with a grin as he reached for his belt.

“How much is this going to cost me, Andrea?” he asked.

“Totally free,” he said. “A gift.”

Giovanni nodded.

“But you can’t cum,” Andrea added. “I don’t want your jizz in my bitch’s mouth.”

He paused from unbuckling his trousers and let out a slight laugh.

“I knew there’d be a catch,” he said, letting go of my hair and pushing me away. “Fuck you, Andrea.”

Andrea laughed and beckoned for me to come back to his side. He took my shaking hand in his and kissed my forehead.

“She’s mine,” Andrea said. “None of you can have her. Especially not before me.”

He then turned to me.

“You are excused, Blanca,” he said. “Go upstairs. I’ll be up later.”