He scowled at that. “Oh, I think your father will do exactly what he's told, unless he wants to receive you back one piece at a time.”
“That's what you'll have to do, then. Hey. Why don't you start with this one?” And, deliberately provoking, she held out her right hand — and flipped him the bird.
The Black Wolf's eyes widened with incredulity before he suddenly let out a great roar of laughter. She held still, hand out, finger upraised, until he grabbed it in a terrifyingly strong grasp, twisting her arm up behind her back painfully, too quick for her to fight back in any of the self-defense moves Elliot had so painstakingly drilled her in.
“Oh,” he whispered in her ear as she struggled and swore at him, “you really are a feisty one. A shame to permanently mar something so lovely as yet, when we do not even know if your father is as strong as you hope. Let us, instead, take something that will grow back.”
In the corner of her vision, she saw something glint and tried to wrench her head away, but the grip he had on her wrist was too tight, too painful. She could hardly move. Instead, she watched in despair as the sharp scissors snipped closed, shearing off a thick swathe of her hair at the left side of her head.
“Perfect.” He let her go, and she sprang away, nursing her aching wrist and numb shoulder. He smirked at her, bending to pick up the hank of hair. “Tomàs, the camera. Smile for Daddy now, Ariana.”
Of course, she wouldn't, twisting away and fighting to escape him, trying to keep her face turned away from the lens. They ended up with his strong hand around her throat, forcing her up on tiptoe with her face toward the camera as he held her freshly sheared hair up beside her face. Tomàs snapped half a dozen photographs before The Black Wolf let go of her. Ariana was certain there were bruises springing up on her throat to match the ones she could already see forming on her wrist.
“Take her back to her room while I make arrangements for the delivery,” he ordered, turning away.
Heedlessly, in a frustrated rage, Ari struck out, aiming a vicious punch at his kidneys with her unhurt left hand. Elliot would have been proud of her, she thought, as The Black Wolf went down with a yell. She followed up with a kick that would have broken his jaw if she'd fully connected. But Tomàs had already sprung into action, knocking her aside, tripping her with a quick leg sweep that made her stumble before she managed to regain her balance.
The Black Wolf leapt to his feet almost instantly, teeth bared, yanking a gold-plated pistol from under his suit jacket and pointing it at Ariana.
She faced him defiantly, shouting, “Do it! Do it, you monster, kill me!”
Slowly, he lowered the gun before smirking and putting it away. “No. No, pretty one, far better to teach you your lesson slowly. I have learned mine; I will not turn my back on you again. Not, at least, until your spirit is broken. Take her away,” he nodded to Tomàs, whose hand fell heavily on Ariana's shoulder.
She shrugged it off with a hiss of rage and a flash of her eyes. “Don’t you dare touch me, you murdering piece of shit.”
Tomàs’ face darkened, his fists clenching.
“Miss Monterro is correct; you will not touch her except on my orders,” The Black Wolf said unexpectedly. “Nobody touches her unless I say so. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Tomàs said deferentially after a brief pause. “Do we summon you if she refuses an order, then, sir?”
“Yes, certainly.” He smiled, an icy, triumphant smile, looking Ariana up and down slowly. “I am quite looking forward to teaching you the price of disobedience, Ariana.”
She couldn’t suppress a shudder of revulsion at the lecherous look on his face. He saw it and smiled wider, though the smile still never touched his cold eyes.
Whipping around, Ariana strode to the door. Let them think she was afraid and fleeing The Black Wolf’s company; she fully intended to use the few seconds head start she was about to buy to do a little exploring.
She ran fleet-footed up the stairs before Tomàs even exited the study. Deliberately taking a wrong turn instead of going back to her room, which she was pretty sure faced the front of the house, she ran down the hallway leading in the other direction. Ariana could look out the front side later. Right now she wanted to look around and scope out the lay of the land as much as possible before Tomàs caught up with her.
Ariana hissed with pain as she hastily grabbed the first door handle she came across; her right wrist hurt like hell, already swelling up. Gingerly, clumsily, she used her left hand to try again, but the door was locked. She went onto the next as quickly as she could; locked.
“Fuck,” she hissed under her breath. What kind of paranoid bastard locked all the doors in his house?
“Your room is this way,” Tomàs’ voice was dust-dry behind her. “It won’t do you any good, Ariana. El Lobo knows you’re not stupid. There’s nowhere to escape to.”
“Then you won’t mind if I keep on looking around, will you?” She didn’t bother looking at him, just marched on to the next door and tried that one too. It opened, rather to her surprise.
“I’m sure El Lobo won’t mind if you want to wait for him in his bedroom, but I rather thought that was something you wanted to avoid.” There was a nasty, knowing laugh in Tomàs’ voice.
Ariana took a slow breath, mentally counted to five, and stepped back, closing the door again. Turning to face him, she said coldly, “Have you always been this much of an asshole?”
He’s certainly not in control of his temper, Ariana thought as Tomàs’ expression darkened again. Maybe he was always this angry, and now he no longer bothers to hide it… that was a depressing thought she tried hard to suppress as she walked back past him in the direction she knew very well her room was in.
“I’ll need ice and bandages for my wrist,” she threw over her shoulder. “Anti-inflammatories, too, if you have any.”
“He hurt you?” Tomàs was following her.
“Don’t even begin to pretend you give a damn,” Ariana snapped, “considering that you will have to help him cut off a lot more than just my hair in the days to come. We both know my father is never going to give El Lobo what he wants.”
“You’ll be the one to pay the price,” Tomàs pointed out.
“I watched my mother pay the ultimate price for no better reason than to buy me a few more minutes of time, asshole.” She shoved the door to her room open, turned around, and glared at him. “I’m not afraid. Or do you think it’s only men who can face torture and death with courage? Go and get me some ice and bandages.”
Slamming the door in his face gave her a great deal of satisfaction. She stood with her hand against the timber for a few moments, breathing quickly but quietly, until she heard his footsteps recede down the corridor.
Five minutes. I just bought myself five minutes… turning away from the door, Ariana stumbled over to the bed and collapsed on top of it, huddling down into a tiny ball. If I’m lucky, nobody is watching…
Her heart slammed against her ribcage, sweat beading on her skin as the first flashback hit.
Chapter Eight
“Sir — an email just arrived!” Gutierrez instantly had Raul and Jack’s full attention.