Vaughn
After I was done cleaning and bandaging Briar's hand, I called in one of my housekeepers, Gia, to escort her to the east wing and place her in spare room next to mine.
I instructed Gia to get her some clean clothes, food, and let her take a shower as well. I also made sure to assign some guards outside her bedroom door. I had never let a prisoner, or anyone else have a room next to mine, but I wanted to keep Briar close just in case she tried to do something stupid.
Again.
It was the next morning when I heard a knock on my office door, and Kane, my IT specialist, entered the room, "Good morning, Don." Kane walked closer to my desk, holding a manila envelope, "I'm sorry it took longer than normal, we had to do a little digging, but we have the report on Briar James." He told me, and I took the folder from his hand, while telling him he was dismissed.
I sat back down on my desk, and opened the envelope. I saw the basic stuff first, address and date of birth. I quickly took note that she had a birthday coming up, and knew that she'd be twenty. Shit, I'm almost fifteen fuckin' years older than her.
I disregarded the age gap, and kept reading, discovering that she was a student at a local college here in Boston. She was studying for her bachelor's in English, and I noticed that she has kept straight A's. The little lamb is smart.
I continued to read, she had no living family members nearby, only an aunt and uncle who were over a thousand miles away in Washington state. It didn't surprise me that she had no close family, when she thought I was going to kill her, the only thing she mentioned was a cat. A cat that she didn't even own.
Her family situation was pretty similar to mine, except I my mother was still alive. I hadn't seen her in years, she was too busy fuckin' off with men half her age, while galavanting around the world.
I kept reading her file, looking for anything else of use. But it was when I got to her medical records that I saw she had an unusual history at the Boston children's hospital.
I read through the list of her previous injuries, and I myself tense. On several different occasions, Briar's arm was pulled out of the socket. Several lacerations to her stomach and back were reported. She was treated for several things over the course of years, but there were multiple notes in the files stating untreated injuries, like burn marks and suspicious bruising. I read further, and saw her case was flagged multiple times for child abuse, but no one ever checked in on her.
And wasn't until I saw that when she was born, Briar indeed had hearing in both her ears. The records state she lost her hearing due to a severe ear infection at seven years old. It had ended up leaving her permanently deaf, and it was even documented that her parents left it untreated to the point where her ear drum had burst.
From there I went straight to her parents file, and saw her mom had passed when she was five, but that her dad didn't pass until she was eighteen. I looked further into her dad's file, and sure as shit, I found he was a police officer. Her dads buddies weren't going to look into him for child abuse. She never stood a chance.
Once I was done, I placed the file in my shredder. I almost felt a little sympathy toward the girl. My father was much like hers, but that was just considered life in the mafia. Briar didn't deserve that shit.
Then my mind started working toward the night Briar got taken. I recalled that she was freaked out by someone in the bar, but what exactly did that mean?
I knew I wasn't going to rest properly until I knew, so I clenched my jaw and called back down to Kane, "Yes, Don?" he answered the phone, and I cut straight to the point, "I want the video of her walking into the bar on eight, and every single moment until she is taken out." I instructed, and he didn't miss a beat, "Yes, sir. Sending it now."
I heard a chime from my email, and hung up the phone. I played the video, and after watching her walk in, I saw her sitting for several minutes with two girls. It was when I saw her stand up and walk to the bar that I sat a little straighter.
I observed as short man with a fucking man bun approached Briar from behind, before grabbing her ass. They exchanged a few words, and I saw Briar rush off. That's when she entered my conference room.
That's what made her so upset. She was fuckin' sexually assulted.
I didn't need to see what happened after that, but I needed to know who that man bun was. I called Rich, and told him to come into my office. Once he gave his ridiculous knock, I told him to come in, and showed him the video.
"I want to know who this man is." I told him, "That stupid fuck with the bun. Call it in however you need to, but I want that man down in my basement. And soon."
"Yes, Don." Rich responded, and I made my way out of the office. I gave Gia a phone call, and told her to bring Briar downstairs to meet me for breakfast in the dining hall.
I wasn't going to say anything about the man who grabbed her ass just yet. I would get him here for her, and let her decide what she wanted done with him.
Briar
The next morning I woke up to a very happy Gia, who told me the Don had requested for me to meet him downstairs for breakfast as a type of formality.
She left after that, telling me the guard outside my door will lead me to the dining hall. I didn't even know I had guards, but I wasn't all that surprised, I wasn't here on my own free will after all.
I got up from the comfortable bed, used the bathroom, and then brushed my teeth with the toothbrush from the night before. I looked around, hoping Gia had left me a change of clothes, but saw nothing. So it was either change back into my old, dirty dress or leave on my pajamas from last night.
Pajamas is it.
I cracked open the door, and the guard turned toward me, "Are you ready to go, Ms James?" He asked, and I nodded my head. I followed him through the long hallways, and eventually he stopped in front of a large, open doorway, "Go on in. The Don is expecting you."
I gave him a nod, and walked into the lavish dining room. I saw Vaughn sitting at the head of a rectangle table, that had about fourteen seats in total.
There was a plethora of plates with food laid out in buffet style, making my stomach rumble and my mouth water. I was silently standing near the table, not sure of what to do when I started to bite the inside of my cheek.
Then I heard his voice, "Sit down."
I immediately complied with his order, trying not to piss him off further, and sat down at a chair a few places away from him. He was obviously not pleased, as he let out a stern, "C'mere."
I shakily stood up and moved closer toward him, and when I looked back at him I saw his eyes were downcast toward my chest. I subtly looked down, and noticed you could see my hardened nipples straight though my shirt. Color and all. Freaking amazing.
My cheeks felt hot as I moved closer toward him, and sat directly at his right. I crossed my arms to attempt to cover my hardened nipples, courtesy of this freezing mansion, when I was startled by a loaded plate that was placed in front of me. I was giddy at the thought of eating, but then I realized half of the stuff was food I couldn't eat. I eyed the coffee mug near me, and settled on just taking a few sips instead.
Neither of us spoke for a few moments, but he broke the silence first, "How're your hands feeling?"
I was surprised at his question, but tried not to show it, "They still hurt pretty bad," I told him with a shrug, "But Gia told me where to find the Tylenol, so that helped."
He seemed to accept my answer, then nodded toward my plate, "Are you planning on not eating?" He asked in the same tone you would scold a disobedient child, and I suddenly felt like an idiot.
He won't care that I don't eat meat, I'm not guest here and I cannot afford to forget that, "I'm not really hungry." I told him, and he frowned, "Doesn't matter. Eat."
I gave a timid smile and picked up a piece of toast, taking a quick bite. But even that didn't seem to appease him.
"I'm actually, a um, a vegetarian. I can't eat this." I motioned toward the breakfast sausage and bacon, "I'm really sorry." I apologized swiftly, and he stopped eating. I couldn't look at him. I was expecting him to lash out at me, demand that I eat the food in front of me and not be wasteful.
But he did nothing of the sort, "Very well. Eat what you can, and I'll make sure the cook knows for lunch."
Shocked was an understatement, but I didn't want him to think I was ungrateful, so I gave him a small smile, "Thank you, Don."
He looked up and met my eyes for the first time at my words, and I was almost afraid that I used his title wrong, "Is that what I call you?" I asked softly, biting my cheek, "Like, should I call you Don?"
His stoic facial expression didn't change as he began eating his omelet again, "What do you think you should call me?" He asked, and his question took me aback, "I don't know, your name I guess? Is that fine?"
He took a second to answer, and I could tell something was conflicting him, but he told me irregardless, "Yes. You may call me by my name."
"Thank you, Vaughn." I used his actual name this time, and if I weren't paying such close attention, I would've missed the way the corner of his lips turned upward at my words.
•••
How did you like this chapter?!