Her legs were long, but he’d only put her at a height of five six. The polish on her dainty toenails was chipped further, but he found himself scrutinising the tattooed black symbol above her instep.

‘What does it mean?’ he asked and her head only swung on her neck. ‘The tattoo on your foot, what does it mean?’

‘Who cares,’ she grumbled.

‘I do,’ he replied. ‘You answer my questions or the basement will be your home for the rest of the week.’

‘Don’t fight fate,’ she said. ‘It means, don’t fight fate.’

‘Sort of fitting.’

‘I don’t think that this is my fate,’ she said.

‘Probably last week you didn’t think that you’d have your tits out on show in my living room, but here you are.’

‘You’re as sick as him, aren’t you?’

‘You’ll grow to like Bruno, he’s not a conventional guy, but there’s plenty of time for you two to get to know each other.’

‘How long do you plan to keep me here?’

‘Haven’t decided yet,’ he said, although the truth was that he didn’t know.

‘Why are you doing this to me?’

‘Why doesn’t matter, you’re here now, and you’re here for a reason.’

‘What reason?’ she asked, the flavour of desperation in her tone was well hidden, but he still managed to pick up on it.

This girl liked to think that she was tough, he remembered that from their meeting in the Vegas alleyway behind the GoldSpring Hotel. Every encounter he’d had with her since that night only reinforced his belief that she’d fight oppression for as long as she could. After spending so much time captive in the basement she had to be cracking. She had lasted a lot longer than he’d thought she would, a lot longer than certainly most women would, and more than a few men would too.

‘Did you get yourself another job?’

‘Is that supposed to be funny?’ she snapped.

He didn’t understand her question, but he couldn’t let her know that. Upholding the façade of cool indifference made the cruelty she’d endured, and would endure, more severe because if she was surrounded by people who valued nothing about her, then hope would quickly swirl down the suckering drain, unable to cling to anything that might mean salvation.

‘My humour tends to be of the subtle variety,’ he said and her eyes, which were already filled with impotent rage, narrowed further.

‘If you’re worried about people noticing that I’m gone, then you should be,’ she said.

‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ he said, unconcerned, because Mauri’s men were thorough. ‘No one will ever find you here, they can look all they want.’

Another light of hope extinguished from within her and he knew that with his indifference and Bruno’s expertise, this woman would be eating out of the palms of their hands soon enough. A part of him, a tiny part, wanted her to fight. Something about her betrayed the struggle she’d endured in life and surrendering to them now would sort of put that toil to shame. Having spent his own life waging war just to survive he felt an affinity with those who hadn’t had it easy either.

Bruno came out of the kitchen now with a bowl of lukewarm soup that she ate slowly, as instructed, and they watched her consume every mouthful. Then drink a little water.

‘Time for a bath, I think,’ Bruno said. ‘You’ll want to clean out those cuts and use a proper toilet instead of a bucket, won’t you?’ She nodded. ‘Say yes, we want to hear the word. You answer every question you’re asked aloud, it’s the only time you’ll be granted permission to speak.’

‘Yes,’ she said.

‘Follow me,’ Bruno said, taking her to the hallway with the basement door in it. Instead of leading her down there as he usually did, this time he took her to the upward stairs and they ascended to the floor with the bedrooms.

The girl was slow and unsteady on her feet, but she got to Bruno eventually and then disappeared upstairs. Bruno came back down alone a few minutes later and took the TV remote from Dax without giving him time to turn the television on.

‘You left her up there alone?’ Dax asked, not really caring about the TV.

‘Where’s she gonna go?’ Bruno asked. ‘Anyway, she can’t walk the length of herself, she’s a mess. Your bathroom doesn’t have windows, so she’s stuck in here.’

‘She’s in my bathroom?’

‘Sure, she’s your property.’

‘Mine?’

‘I’m showing you the ropes, kid. Mauri likes you and Brad trusts you, which isn’t an easy get,’ Bruno said, scooping up more popcorn.

‘I thought we were doing this for Tryst.’

‘We are, but she has to belong to someone, to learn how to respond to her owner. She’s gonna believe she’s all yours until we gift her to Tryst, then he’ll be her owner. He’s not gonna take the time to beat her into submission, that’s our job. There’s a lot riding on this. Mauri wants it done and they’re already planning a wedding. Mauri wants them down the aisle quick, as soon as Tryst is back, so that he can’t change his mind.’

‘You’ll do a better job than I will. You take her.’ Dax couldn’t really be bothered with a woman giving him grief.

‘This will be the greatest experience of your life, we’re gonna whip that girl into shape and she’ll be the best fuck of your life. She’ll do any damn thing you want her to, any minute of the day.’

So he was here for sexual purposes, he should have figured that out. Bruno couldn’t do the honours, so it was expected that Dax would do it in his place. ‘What you know about her?’

‘Mauri’s guys took blood and piss from her and tested her for everything, she’s clean. And they gave her the injection, which means you’re good to ride bareback for the next two months… it lasts three in all so even if we run over time you’re still good.’

Getting her to agree to the intercourse wouldn’t come easy if her reaction to Trystan in Vegas was anything to go by.

‘I’ll be the one to break her, you watch and learn,’ Bruno said. ‘Once we’ve got her complying more times than not, then you take over.’

‘You want me to fuck her?’ It seemed like a waste of his time to go to all of this effort for a quick roll in the hay.

‘No, kid, you’re missing the point. You’re not gonna just fuck her. You fuck her in every way you’ve ever thought of. You make her fulfil every dirty, depraved fantasy you’ve ever had and make her beg for more. You have to push her further than you’ve ever pushed a woman. She can’t say no to Trystan, not ever, that little fucker made a deal with his father. He’ll marry her and stay out of trouble if behind closed doors he gets away with anything that he wants. The minute she complains, or refuses him, that’s it: deal off.’

‘Two months to make her into a Stepford wife.’

‘Fifty days,’ Bruno said, ‘to make her into a slutty Stepford wife.’

In all of his experience with women he’d yet to find one he could trust. Sure, they were good for a night or two in the sack, but to show one weakness or confide in one? Not a chance. Playing with the uptight Vegas chick might be fun and if she could keep Trystan on the straight and narrow then he’d have fewer messes to clean up. So for a break and a laugh, Dax was up for a challenge. If she did decide to fight and attempt to hang onto her autonomy then at least he’d be kept occupied and entertained, he wasn’t very good at sitting on his ass doing sweet fuck all.

‘I say we give her twenty minutes and then you go up there, now let’s talk about how to play the game.’

They ended up talking for close to half an hour. In his time with the Stark family Dax had done his share of enforcing and it was one of his favourite things. Manipulating this woman would be easy, she was pliable enough now. He would put good money on her realising that being holed up in the basement limited her options.

If he was in her position the first thing he’d want was a lay of the land, then he’d want to take a measure of the people holding him, neither of which could be done from the basement. With a plan in place Dax entered his bedroom and closed the door.