Page 3 of Shutter and Sin
He tilts his head, considering the screen with mock seriousness. “Though there’s none without the panties. I’ll have to search thoroughly for one without them. You sure you don’t have any fully nude shots hidden somewhere?”
“You’re revolting.”
He studies the camera screen for another moment. “Tell me, Zoya. When you took this photo - the one with your hand between your legs - were you actually touching yourself or just posing?”
I pull against the ropes hard enough that they cut deeper into my wrists. “Fuck you.”
"In due time." His voice drops, low and filthy. "But I digress. I'm asking for research purposes. If I'm going to jack off to this, I want to know if you were actually turned on when you took it." He pauses, then shakes his head. “Actually, don’t answer that. I prefer the mystery. It’s more fun.”
He walks over and hands the camera to the guy at the laptop, never once breaking eye contact with me. “Make sure you don't look at the private photos. Just put them in a separate folder and send them straight to my phone.” The nerve of this man. I spit on the ground right next to his foot, but he just smiles back, completely unbothered and amused. I'm forced to sit in silence while his technician catalogs my private life. Five minutes pass. Then ten.
My scalp is burning from all the hair pulling, and my dignity is in the gutter. The boss just stands there watching me theentire time while his guy works. I grit my teeth against the dull ache, knowing my options are running out.
“If I answer your questions, will you actually let me go?” I ask, searching his cold brown eyes for any sign of honesty.
“No,” he says simply.
“What do you mean, no?” I shout, frustration finally boiling over as I strain against the ropes. “Why should I be willing to participate in this god-awful place, answering your questions if you won’t let me go? I’d rather not talk to you at all.”
Immediately, his annoying underling yanks my head back again and my eyes jerk back to the ceiling. I fight the urge to cry as the pain sears through me. “Fuck!” I groan. “Do you have a hair kink or something?”
The ugly one just sneers at me. “Keep your mouth shut, bitch.”
Before I can respond, the boss turns his attention to him. “Igor, come here.”
The ugly one has a name. Good for him.
Igor lets go of my hair and approaches.
Without a word of warning, the boss’s fist connects with Igor’s face. The crack of bone on bone echoes through the hollow factory and even I, wince on contact.
“Closer,” the boss commands.
Igor stumbles forward, and the boss hits him again, right on the other side. He falls back, clutching a nose that is definitely broken, blood blooming between his fingers. The boss turns back to me, casually adjusting his cuffs, his eyes not meeting mine. “I apologize for that. I don’t permit that kind of language used against a beautiful woman without my permission.”
“So let me fucking go,” I whisper.
He lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “Look at you, talking back to me without an ounce of fear. Wow. My sources told me you’re always getting kidnapped, but this… this is somethingelse. Honestly, kidnapping you might have been completely unnecessary. You seem pretty damn at home.” I want to punch that smirk off his stupidly handsome face.
The technician nods. “Done, sir.”
The boss takes my camera back. Then, with casual cruelty, he drops it. It hits the concrete with a sickening crack. I feel it straight in my bones. Before the gasp fully escapes my lips, he grinds his heel into the casing, crushing the lens and the body into a mess of glass and plastic.
That shit is expensive.
“No!” I scream. “My camera!”
Yet he just smiles. “Oops.”
“You did that on fucking purpose!” Tears burn behind my eyes, threatening to spill. He crouches down, bringing himself to my level, and reaches for my face with hands that should feel threatening but somehow don’t. His touch is gentle as he wipes away the tears that have rolled down my face. The cologne he’s wearing smells expensive and clean, completely out of place in this oil-stinking factory.
“Shhh,” he breaths, his thumb rolling on a droplet of tear. “I’m sorry. Really. But if I’d left that camera with you, I’d probably find you lurking around my other establishments within days.” His thumb brushes across my cheek one more time before he pulls away and stands. “This is insurance. A way to make sure you stay put by tomorrow.”
When he pulls away, the sudden cold is jarring. What is wrong with me?
“I have business to attend to.” He straightens his jacket, then nods to no one in particular. “Untie her.”
The ropes fall away from my wrists and ankles as if one of his men have been waiting for the instruction. I immediately rub at the ugly reddening marks they left behind, wincing at the rawskin. “You didn’t even have to strap me down that hard. All the other people that have nabbed me never treated me this rough.”
