His virgin heiress, p.1
His Virgin Heiress, page 1
His Virgin Heiress
MINK
His Virgin Heiress
MINK © 2020
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book only. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from MINK.
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contents
His Virgin Heiress
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Epilogue II
Epilogue III
Also by MINK
About the Author
His Virgin Heiress
MINK
Sometimes I have sticky fingers. Funny how pricey things tend to get glued to them. An item here, a handful of diamonds there. I take them, and then I keep them. Like a dragon with her hoard that no man can touch. Except … that isn’t completely true. One man can. My captor, my jailor, the one person who I can’t stop fantasizing about even though he keeps me locked away. He took everything from me. So, I’m taking it back from him piece by piece. But when he reveals the twisted path to my freedom, will I walk down it alone or accept that my obsession isn’t wealth at all, it’s him?
1
Cesar
My little mouse is hungry again. I can feel it as I lean over and inspect my treasures. Each gemstone is handpicked, each necklace scrutinized, each bit of silver or gold or platinum weighed and recorded. For years I’ve amassed this glittering collection of everything my mouse could desire, and she covets each single item.
I want her to covet them. To be overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of each piece. After all, I selected them with her in mind. I run my fingers along a sapphire necklace that could never shine as bright as her. She won’t take this tonight. My little mouse is very careful to only snatch small things.
So I look through my loose gemstones and choose a smattering of diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and a few aquamarines in case she’s feeling a bit more pedestrian this evening. The rest I carefully place inside my vault, then turn the locking mechanism until the metal bars thunk solidly into place and the interior light comes on, showing the sparkling jewels through impenetrable layers of bulletproof glass and cross bars of steel.
My little mouse will be along shortly.
She’s coming to steal from me, to take a swipe at the man who controls her entire world. She thinks I’m the evil puppet master pulling all the strings, but I’m the only reason she and her family are alive. Their debt to me can never be paid, and if they leave my estate, their enemies will find them.
But she doesn’t know any of that. Innocent, brave, and young, she doesn’t know the truth. I’ve been careful to keep it from her. But my little mouse is devious. She flaunts herself in my house, her body ripe and ready for the taking. Growing more wild by the day, my little mouse should be careful. She tempts the beast in me.
I keep my distance, because I want her to see me for who I really am and to submit to me willingly. And soon she will. But I play this little game with her for now. I let her think she’s stealing from me.
But she can’t steal what she already owns.
Each trinket here belongs to her.
Just as she belongs to me.
2
Valentina
“I’ll never get used to how big this house is,” I say to my mom before I run a few feet and start to flip. My hands meet the wooden floor as I twist and turn my body, starting in a cartwheel and quickly changing into back handsprings all the way down the east hall of the mansion.
“If you break something, I’ll tan your ass,” Mom shouts at me as I tumble to a stop.
I glance to my left where a beautiful vase sits atop an equally beautiful hand carved wooden table. There’s an expensive looking painting that hangs above it.
Yes, what would happen if I were to have knocked the vase or painting down? I’m sure all of it costs more than what a normal person makes in a year. Not that I know anything about being normal. I may have at one time, but I was too young to remember how it felt. I don’t feel much these days. This prettied-up prison may make it seem as though I’ve got everything, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth.
“I call your bluff.” I pick up the vase as my mom makes her way down the hallway. Her long dark hair, which I’ve inherited, falls into her face as she rushes to get to me.
“Valentina.” She sighs my name as I toss the priceless vase into the air before catching it easily again. “Will you stop trying to give me a heart attack?” She puts her hands on her hips.
“Sorry.” I put the vase back down.
My mom has never raised a hand to me. She isn’t going to tan my ass, as she likes to say, but it’s not her reaction I’m worried or curious about. It’s Cesar’s. Who knows what he might do if I broke his vase. There’s really only one way to find out, but I know I can’t do that to my mom. I love her, and I don’t want her having a heart attack. I’ll have to come up with some other way to needle him.
“Go to bed.” She comes over and kisses my cheek. “I’m going to make my last rounds and catch up on my shows. I’m playing the neighbor again in the morning. Going to beat her like a drum.”
Mom won’t leave the property, but the tennis court out back is her private stress reliever.
“I love you,” I tell her as she turns and heads back down the hallway, leaving me all alone. I glance up at what I think is one of the cameras in the hallway, glaring at it before I hurry to my room. I’ve done my best to look for cameras in here, but I haven’t found any. That doesn’t mean they aren’t there.
As soon as the door closes, I turn the knob and lock it. I walk over to my closet and move some things out of the way until I get to my most prized possessions. I slip the box out from where I’ve hidden it. A thrill of excitement passes through me at seeing all of my little pretties again.
I know I have to do this quickly, but somehow seeing the things I’ve stolen from him gives me the confidence to do it again. I reach out and run my fingertips over the trinkets I’ve collected. My hand always stops when it gets to the pretty necklace that has the stone of my birth month. A pang of jealousy always hits me when I get to this piece. Because this is the perfect necklace for a beautiful woman. A mistress of his? I grit my teeth.
Why does he have all this jewelry? He never seems to notice that it goes missing. Does the man have so much money that he doesn't care that his priceless collection is being whittled away? Does he just send someone off to buy another? Or maybe he thought he gave it away? Then again, Cesar doesn't seem so forgetful.
Still, I can always find holes in the things he does. I steal right from under him, even though I know it would mean death if he found out. No one crosses Cesar.
That is the one thing I’ve learned since I came to live here. I don’t know why my mom insists we stay. The day my father died, everything changed. Including her. She lives in fear of something. She won’t admit to it, and she never talks about it, but I can see it in her eyes. I don’t know if it’s of Cesar or someone else.
I grab the necklace from the box. While still in the closet, I change my clothes. I slip on a black hoodie and thick yoga pants before digging out my black sneakers. I put the necklace into my pocket. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever stolen, but it has too much control over me. I think about it far too often. I must be done with it. Too many things in my life already control me. I refuse to keep letting a necklace do the same. I’ll pawn it. Take the cash and hide it away.
I put the rest of my pretties away before leaving my closet and flipping the light off in my bedroom. This home is beautiful but old. The windows are the kind that I can easily push open. It’s not as if the doors and windows on the estate need to be locked. There are guards everywhere ensuring no one gets in and, in my case, that I don’t get out.
But I know exactly where each and every one of them are stationed. I’ve got too much time on my hands. I know where everything is around here. I look down at my watch as I crawl out of the window. I hit the alert button to call for a ride before slipping the phone and a butterfly knife into my sports bra under my hoodie.
I watch the seconds tick by until the time strikes the top of the hour. Then I jump, falling three stories to the ground. I bend one of my knees, letting it take part of the fall as my hands take the other. No pain, no gain.
As quickly as I hit the turf, I’m up and using my hands to propel me further as I take off on a dead sprint, headed straight for the trees. I run as fast as I can, knowing every step. I run the estate often. It isn’t just for the exercise; it’s to do some recon and learn everything I can about this place. You never know what information might come in handy one day.
I suck in a breath, evening it out as I get closer to the edge of the property. The hardest part of sneaking out of here is th
When I start to make my move, my left foot loses its grip, and I almost tumble into the bushes below. Out of desperation, I grab the top of the wall. I wince against the shock, but nothing comes. I pull myself up.
“Holy shit,” I breathe. The electricity must be off today. I make note of the time because maybe it’s a maintenance thing. When I jump down the outside, the car I called is there waiting for me. I run to it and hop into the back.
“Where to tonight?” Jewels asks. I met her the first night I snuck out. She drove me, and I paid her. Whenever I call, she comes. We’ve slowly formed a friendship. It might be one-sided. I’m basically paying her to hang out with me.
“Know any pawn shops?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says as she pulls away.
I drop my head back, catching my breath as I pull the necklace out to look at it. My eyes go to the giant stone. The necklace really is breathtaking. I can tell that it was crafted with love. That thought has me gripping it tighter.
If Cesar planned to give this to his favorite mistress--though I’ve never seen any other women at the estate--she’ll be sorely disappointed. Good. I stow it in my pocket and imagine the look on Cesar’s face if he ever realizes I’m the one who stole it. Fear and warmth mix until I can’t help but smile, because I may not be able to strike my captor directly, but I can give him hell all the same.
3
Cesar
The car moves expertly through traffic, but I follow at a reasonable distance. My little mouse never knows the cat is always on the prowl, and that’s the way I want it. She lives in the cage of my estate. She has to for her own safety. But we’ve never had that discussion, and I don’t intend to do so anytime soon.
So, instead, I watch her, keep her safe, and try to be a better man. Watching her is easy. The other two? Not quite as much. She hasn’t picked up a tail today, other than me, but some days I have to destroy her enemies at the end of my knife. It’s all worth it.
The car turns onto the highway, and I follow as Jewels jets down the fast lane, eventually getting over to exit in a seedier area of town. They stop in front of a dingy pawn shop with a flickering sign that promises to buy gold and guns for fair prices.
My little mouse never sells what she steals. Why is she starting now?
I tap my fingers on the steering wheel as she and her friend, Jewels, walk into the store. A few guys down the block get rowdy as a train rolls past a few streets down the road. I want to know what she’s doing, but I can’t go into the store. She may not see much of me, but when she does, she seems to make a study of my face. Staring, memorizing, hating.
After a few tense moments, they return to Jewels’s car and pull back onto the street, then head toward the highway. I’m tracking them, so I can spare a moment to inquire about what they were doing in the shop.
Parking out front, I jump out of my car and hurry inside.
“--idiot girl selling this to me for a song.” The proprietor laughs as he holds the necklace I chose specifically for my darling mouse.
“I’ll buy it.” I stride up, and the man looks up at me with bloodshot eyes.
“Not for sale.” He gives me a suspicious glare.
“This is a shop, is it not?”
“No.” He stands. “Not for you. Get out.”
“Why?” I don’t reach for my weapon. I don’t do anything except stare down at the skinny man with my mouse’s necklace clutched in his sweaty palm. I’ll have to have it professionally cleaned after this.
“Because it’s mine. Now leave.” He reaches under the counter for what I’m certain is a shotgun. “Or are we going to have a problem?”
I hold my hands up. “No problem.”
He relaxes. Like the fool he is.
I jump the counter and bring my knife down on his hand, piercing it as he screams and drops the necklace. I catch it, pocket it, then wrench his arm behind his back and force him face down to the floor.
“Quit screaming. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
He doesn’t stop, so I pull my pistol and use the butt to knock him out. Rising quickly, I wipe my bloody knife on his shirt, then enter the back of the shop. His cameras are hard-wired to a recording system. I destroy it and snatch the hard drive—no cloud to worry about. Once I’m done, I retrace my steps and check his log book that lies open on the counter.
“Five hundred dollars? That’s all you gave her?” I have the inclination to kill him for giving her so little for the necklace that is clearly worth six figures. Instead, I pull out five hundreds and drop them on the counter, then walk into the breezy night.
I catch up with them half an hour later as they sit in a greasy spoon near the northern edge of town.
My mouse likes her burgers and fries, though she seems to burn them off with her daily laps in the pool and constant practice in her makeshift gym. She stretches, tumbles, and climbs like she was born to be a trapeze artist. I could watch her for hours, and sometimes I do.
Another car pulls up to the side of the diner, the BMW’s dark windows hinting at trouble inside. It’s been a while--eight months--since anyone’s found her, but here we are again. I suspect it must be because of Jewels. Not that she’s snitching on my little mouse, but that someone knows Valentina has struck up a friendship with her.
If I were a colder man, I’d get rid of Jewels to keep my little mouse safe, but it would hurt Valentina too much to lose her only friend, so I can’t do it. Which is why--I pull my gun and slide my knife into my other palm--I have to keep an eye on her.
The BMW doors open, and a man steps out, a lit cigarette in one hand as his eyes linger on my little mouse. I will kill him for that alone, because I see the hunger in him, the way his mind calculates whether he can get away with tasting her before ending her life. Red swims in my vision at his impertinence.
He tosses his cigarette and blows a plume of smoke before reaching behind his back and pulling his gun.
I open my car door and step out, then stretch as if I’m simply a weary traveler looking for a meal. A streetlight nearby flickers on at the exactly wrong moment. I can only hope my little mouse is too preoccupied with her food to look outside.
The man’s gaze flits to me then away as he takes two steps toward my Valentina.
I’m on him before he can turn around, and I shove my knife so deep inside him that his heart’s blood coats my hand. “You come for the Cruz women, then you come for death.” I twist the blade as he shakes a little, then I drag him back to his car, throw him to the ground beside it, pop the trunk, then deposit him inside.
After wiping my hand on his coat, I close the trunk.
“Mr. Saldana?” My mouse’s voice hits my ears, and I freeze.
4
Valentina
Cesar slowly turns to face me. I think I may have surprised him, but he schools his expression, not showing me any type of emotion. I knew it was him. I could feel someone’s eyes on me in the diner, the same way I’ve felt them so many times before.
He’s always watching in some form or fashion. When I got a glimpse of him outside, I jumped up and paid the bill as quickly as I could. I wanted to actually catch him spying on me. It wasn't until I’d already called his name that I realized I was outing myself. Though if he followed me here, then he already knows what I’m up to. Does he know about the pawn shop too? Shit.
