Sold To The Boss: A Narcos Romance

Chapter 5

Isabella had eaten another tray of food, taken another nap, and was now pacing the small space of her room, growing impatient. She hated that she'd already become dependent on the drugs her previous captor had been jabbing into her arm over the past several days, and she kept catching herself itching at her delicate skin, leaving small red marks in its wake. She was agitated and on high alert. Even though the food and the sleep had both been welcome reprieves, she still had been very much sold to some mystery buyer whose face she couldn't make out in her memory of last night since everything had been hazy.

Isabella had already given up on trying to find an escape from within the room. The only window was high above her head and shaped as a long skinny rectangle. She doubted she could crawl out even if she managed to break through the glass. Plus, there was no way of knowing what was waiting for her on the other side. And the bed and the food she'd been enjoying for the last few hours told her that it was probably a hell of a lot worse out there than in here.

She stopped pacing when she heard several voices outside of the bedroom door. She could understand some Spanish but not well enough to eavesdrop. She tried to pick up a few words here and there but before she could try to connect the dots, a loud single knock sounded at her door. It seemed silly to say something as benign as "come in" like she had any kind of authority to dictate whether someone did or didn't enter. Instead she backed away from the door and held onto one of the four bedposts, rubbing her shaking palm against the wood. She was scared as hell, the flow of fear that had been running rampant within her rushing up again to the surface, but she forced herself to remain strong. She couldn't show weakness. Anyone who had purchased another living human being would easily prey on weakness.

The door flew open and a tall, olive-skinned man stood before her. He had slicked back chocolate brown hair and light brown eyes, the same hue as his cheekbones. His lips were full and pulled into a frown, a large but faded scar etched across his right cheek.

"Hablas español?" He closed the door behind him, subduing the other voices in the hallway. Isabella froze for a moment and then shook her head 'no.' She didn't want to give away the fact that she knew enough Spanish to potentially save her life.

"I purchased you yesterday," he spoke English clearly, with the faintest hint of an accent at the end of his words, "do you remember?"

Isabella didn't know how to respond to that question. Being kidnapped and sold wasn't exactly something she could forget, even if she had been drugged. "Yes." She swallowed past the lump in her throat, gripping the bed post tighter.

"You can call me Rafael," he moved a few inches closer into the room and she knew what he was planning to do. What all men like him must be planning to do with the women they'd purchased. Isabella didn't care if he killed her. She wouldn't go down without a fight. She wouldn't be taken advantage of even at her most desperate moment. Despite the horrors that had happened to her over the past few days, she'd still maintained that part of herself. Not that she could blame any woman who hadn't been so lucky.

"You may as well just shoot me now. I won't live like this. I won't give you what you want." Isabella's words were stern but her voice wavered almost to the point of cracking. She hated how afraid she was, but how could she not be?

"First of all, carina, I always get what I want. But more importantly, you have no idea what it is that I want. What I need." He slid off his sport coat and draped it over the desk chair, then took off his expensive watch and cufflinks and set them on the small desk. He seemed tired and Isabella could see the dark circles under his handsome brown eyes. He started to unbutton his shirt, still not directly looking at her, and a lump of dread formed in her throat. He was still going to make her have sex with him. She started thinking of all the ways she'd bite and slap, even if it killed her. And she felt that was a very real possibility when she was confronted with his bare back, muscled and ripped in every way, with broad shoulders covered in a myriad of tattoos and scars. One particularly gnarly scar seemed to go from his right shoulder blade around to his left rib cage. This guy had scars all over. She felt the air leave her lungs.

"Put this on, cover yourself up," Rafael tossed her his shirt and only let his eyes linger for a moment before glancing back down at the small desk and putting his jewelry in his pants' pocket. Isabella's fingers shook with both fear and surprise as she made quick work of covering up her full and exposed breasts in the barely-there green auction dress she'd been forced into at gunpoint.

Finally Rafael turned to her, bracing his hands behind him on either side of the desk. Isabella couldn't help but notice the way his olive, tanned skin rippled and moved tautly along defined muscles and corded veins. He didn't seem like he was trying to flex, but even when slouching he looked taut and ready to strike at any moment.

"To be clear, I will never make any attempt to have sex with you. Real men don't get pleasure from fucking unwillingly women, and I don't pay for sex, entiendes?"

She nodded her head curtly, noting again how mild his accent was. Maybe he spent his formative years in the states? She made an additional mental note, anything she may be able to leverage or use in the future.

"I have enemies, too many right now," he looked her straight in the eye and she felt her stomach knot in fear at his intensity. "Most of these enemies are protected, armed, and desperate. But they are still men. And that's a weakness I fully intend to exploit. With your help."

Isabella felt her blood boil and her cheeks redden, "So you buy me as a sex slave, not even for your own personal use but to pimp me out as a distraction to your enemies? That's worse! Kill me now, I won't do it."

Rafael moved so quickly she felt the bed shift before she registered his actions. He was only inches from her face, both of his large tanned palms on either side of her hips on the duvet.

"Carina, I like your fire but we're going to have to direct it in the right way, you understand? You work for me. I own you. I protect those who are mine as long as they're mine. If you're smart and do as I say, none of these men will ever be inside you. Not in that pouty pretty mouth, your pussy or your ass. Deal?"

Under any other circumstance in her past life, and she had to think of everything before this week as her past life because she'd never be the same, this would be a horrible deal. But considering her reality, he sounded like her best option. Her only option. His words were terrifying but still somehow genuine. She was cautiously optimistic that he would actually protect her in some way, which was more than she was in a position to do for herself. She nodded, her fists tightening in her lap, itching to slap him but knowing she was too afraid.

"Good. This room and bathroom are all yours, use whatever you need and let Lolita know if you need anything else."

Isabella simply glared back at him in response, letting him know she understood.

"Isabella, right?" She nodded, briefly wondering if it would have been better to lie about her name, but it seemed too late anyway. He already knew.

"Oh and carina?" He turned back to her with one hand on the door knob, "you try to run, you try to escape in any way, and I'll sell you to a man far worse than any of the other bidders at the auction yesterday. Entiendes?"

Isabella swallowed hard. "Yes."