His Kitten

VINCENT

I strolled back to my office, a rare smile on my face. That little girl had managed to do what few could—make me smile. She was so young, so pure, so perfect.

The only thing that could wipe that smile off my face was the thought of that disgusting man laying a hand on her.

If I hadn’t caught him on the cameras, who knows what he might have done. Ending his life brought me a twisted sense of satisfaction. I would have preferred a slow, painful end for him, but the others needed to understand that such behavior was unacceptable.

She was meant to be just a hostage, a bargaining chip. But then I discovered who she really was, and everything fell into place.

I pushed open the office door, stepped inside, and locked it behind me.

I fired up the computer, shot off a quick email, then pulled up the CCTV feed.

A few keystrokes later, the feed from the hidden camera in my bathroom appeared.

I stared at the screen. She was starting to undress. I had noticed when I carried her up the stairs how perfect her little body was.

Now I could see it for myself. Perfect, except for the angry red mark on her thigh.

My poor little kitten. I watched as she stepped into the bath, a wince crossing her face as she sat down.

Then my phone rang. I couldn’t help but smirk. I knew exactly who it was.

I answered the call.

“Where is she, you bastard? What have you done to her? If you’ve touched a hair on her head, I swear…”

“Daniel, my brother, what a pleasant surprise,” I said, smirking. “You got the photo then?”

I glanced at the photograph of Rosie, bound and gagged. One copy had been sent to Daniel, the other was destined for her father.

“If you touch a hair on her head, I swear I’ll kill you, Vincent. She’s mine.”

I chuckled. “You know, brother, you really should take better care of your toys. It was child’s play to hack into your computer and your tracking software.”

I heard him sigh on the other end of the line.

“Vincent, I want her back,” he pleaded.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure you do, but you should have thought about that before you set your idiot friend up. What was your plan, Daniel? Kill two birds with one stone? Get rid of her father and your brother?

“Did you really think I would be that easy to take down?

“You made your choice when you left the family, Daniel. The only reason you’re still breathing is because I convinced Papa not to kill you. Don’t make me regret it,” I growled.

“You don’t want her, Vincent. She’s nothing to you. You’re only doing this to get back at me,” Daniel spat.

I smiled. He was probably right—I was enjoying this.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Daniel. I’ll give you one thing—she is a pretty little thing. Right now, she’s naked, soaking in the bathtub in my bathroom.”

I glanced at the screen. She was lying in the bath, her eyes closed.

“I’ve decided to keep her for myself, my own gattina.”

“You bastard,” Daniel growled. “I’ll get her back, I swear—if it’s the last thing I do.”

I chuckled. “Good luck with that, brother.”

I ended the call and tossed the phone onto the desk.

Then I looked at the camera feed. A wave of panic washed over me. My silly little kitten had fallen asleep in the bath.

“Don’t drown yourself, gattina. I’m not done with you yet,” I smirked.

I switched off the screen and stood up, heading back to my bathroom to fetch my little kitten.

When I tried the bathroom door and found it locked, I rolled my eyes. Of course she would lock it.

I fished a set of keys out of my pocket, found the master key, and unlocked the bathroom door.

I couldn’t help but smile, seeing her lying in the bath, fast asleep.

I walked over and dipped my fingers in the water. It was still warm. At least she wouldn’t catch a cold. But I would have to scold her. Falling asleep in the bath was a dangerous game.

I grabbed a towel from the rail and gently lifted her out. She moaned, the sound like music to my ears. I quickly wrapped her in the towel.

She didn’t wake as I carried her back to the bedroom. She was a tiny little thing, barely five feet tall and light as a feather.

I sat down on the bed with her on my lap and gently started to dry her off.

The friction of the towel against her skin must have woken her. Her eyes snapped open, and she let out a squeal, trying to squirm away from me.

I held her tightly until she stopped, then she whimpered.

“Shhh, gattina, you fell asleep in the bath. The last thing I want is for you to drown.”

She stilled slightly and stared at me with those big blue eyes. She looked terrified.

“Do I scare you, gattina?” I asked, holding her gaze.

She looked away and nodded, biting her bottom lip.

I brushed my thumb across it. “You shouldn’t do that, gattina, unless you want me to…scare you even more,” I smirked.

Her face flushed. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as I thought. By the time I was done with her, she certainly wouldn’t be.

“Now,” I began, moving her from my lap and onto the bed. “Let’s get you dressed, shall we?”

I stood up and retrieved the clothes from the bathroom.

When I walked back into the bedroom, she was hugging herself tightly, clutching the towel to her chest.

I snickered. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before, is it, gattina?”

Her face turned bright red; she was about to bite her bottom lip, but then she thought better of it.

It was just as well—the way she looked at me when she did it before was turning me on way too much. Was this why Daniel was so drawn to her?

“What does it mean, gattina?” she whispered, glancing at me, then quickly dropping her gaze.

I eased myself onto the bed beside her, gently lifting her chin with my finger so she was forced to meet my gaze.

“Just a nickname,” I said, a smirk playing on my lips as I thought of Daniel. He always referred to her as kitten; now it was my turn. The only difference was she had no idea I was using the same term of endearment.

“Do you like it?” I asked, my smirk widening. “Or would you prefer...kitten?”

She gasped, her mouth falling open slightly. I could see the gears turning in her head. It wouldn’t be long before she pieced it together, even if her conclusion was off.

I grabbed the shirt from the bed. “Put this on.”

She looked at me, taking the shirt with one hand while holding the towel to her chest with the other.

I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t enjoy repeating myself,” I warned, my gaze hard.

“C-could you turn around,” she stammered. “Please.”

Her request was polite, but I wasn’t in the mood for compromise.

“No...just put it on,” I said, my voice low and gruff.

Her face turned a deep shade of red. She was mine now. She’d have to get used to me seeing her body.

She turned slightly away from me, letting the towel drop to her waist as she slipped on my shirt. It was oversized on her, but I liked it that way.

“Come here, gattina,” I coaxed.

She turned back to me, her face still flushed. I leaned in close to her, buttoning up the shirt but leaving the top two buttons undone.

“Now, lay on your stomach,” I instructed.

Her hands clung to the towel around her waist. She looked at me, fear evident in her eyes.

“Now, gattina. You need to start following instructions. You’re going to be here for a while, so don’t push me!” I warned.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she needed to learn to trust me.

She let the towel fall and lay on her stomach on the bed. The shirt covered her bottom for the time being.

“Stay there and don’t move,” I commanded as I rose from the bed and retreated to the bathroom.

I retrieved some aloe vera gel from the bathroom cabinet and returned to the bedroom.

She was still lying on her stomach. Thankfully, there were no tears.

“Good girl, now just relax,” I said, my voice soft.

She tensed as I lifted the shirt from her bottom. I examined the red mark on her thigh. He’d hit her hard, the bastard.

I squeezed some gel onto my hand and began to gently massage it into her thigh.

She gasped initially, but then I noticed her body start to relax.

“This should help with the soreness,” I reassured her.

I continued to rub in the gel, savoring the feel of her soft skin beneath my fingers, taking more time than necessary.

“Does that feel better, gattina?” I murmured.

She nodded. “Yes, thank you…”

She hesitated, and I chuckled. She knew nothing about me, not even my name, only what her imagination had conjured up.

“You can call me Vincent, gattina,” I told her.

I picked up the boxers still lying on the bed and tossed them in front of her. “Now put these on.”

I walked over to the dressing table as she hurried to put the boxers on without me seeing anything. When I turned around, she was standing next to the bed, clutching the hem of the shirt. She looked absolutely terrified.

I sat down on the bed, my legs spread apart. I patted the space in between. “Sit here,” I encouraged.

She hesitated again. This was becoming tiresome.

“Either sit here, or I’ll use this hairbrush on your ass!” I snapped.

She quickly complied. I rested one hand on her shoulder. I could feel her trembling as I began to brush her long, chocolate-brown hair.

“How do you usually wear your hair, gattina?” I asked as I finished brushing her soft locks that reached the middle of her back.

“Like this,” she whispered.

I smiled and pushed her hair so it draped over one shoulder, leaving the other side of her neck exposed.

“Good,” I murmured. “I like it like that.”

I gently pressed my lips to the side of her neck. I felt her tremble as a small gasp escaped her lips. But this time was different; there was no fear.

I felt the slight arch of her back as she leaned into me, not pulling away like before.