Natural Submission Read online

  Natural

  Submission

  By Carmen Hunter

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Capitolo Quattro

  Capitolo Cinque

  Capitulo Sei

  Capitulo Sette

  Capitulo Otto

  Capitulo Nove

  Capitulo Dieci

  Chapitre Onze

  Chapitre Douze

  Chapitre Treize

  Chapitre Quatorze

  Chapitre Quinze

  Chapitre Seize

  Chapitre Dix-Sept

  Chapitre Dix-Huit

  Chapitre Dix-Neuf

  Chapitre Vingt

  Chapitre Vingt Et Un

  Epilogue

  Omega City

  Chapter One

  ©2019 Carmen Hunter

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including a photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. The Only Exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  * this book is intended for adults only and contains scenes of a sexual nature featuring total power exchange which may make some readers uncomfortable. This book handles triggering content including torture, dubcon (consent gained by dubious means), and emotional manipulation. Read at your own discretion.

  The unicorn package promises something that doesn't exist; a mythical creature.

  Rosamma Esposito was an innocent when he took her. A hardworking fashion model breezing her way through the industry without succumbing to drugs, or parties, or men. It was Rosamma’s good behavior that propelled her to the top of his list.

  He claimed that she was a natural. That she belonged to this lifestyle, that she wanted it. Maybe he was right. But it wasn’t his choice to decide, and whoever this guy was, he never anticipated Rosamma might have a guardian angel.

  If a fashion model could be a unicorn, then the bodyguard tracking her to the end of the world could be an angel.

  Warning: This is a standalone dark romance that focuses on the themes of captivity and punishment. Some scenes may be considered disturbing, reader discretion is advised.

  Chapter One

  “I’m not a babysitter.”

  “No one is asking you to be, son.”

  Except donning a diaper bag and switching in his sports car for a soccer van was the definition of Uday’s request. The girl was pretty, Ekene would give him that. Plenty of men would trip over themselves to get paid to stare at the princesses bouncy little ass. As the employer of said men he didn’t understand - “Why me?”

  “You were the best before starting this firm. And you still do jobs from time to time for special clients; it’s a personal favor for Saverio Esposito.”

  “It’d be different if it were him I was guarding.” Ekene’s nose crinkled, his lips picking up to bare sharp teeth. “But his daughter? On a week long shopping trip to fashion week in Italy?” The scenery would be nice, don’t get him wrong. But running his own hundred million dollar security firm after serving in Iraq, Pakistan, and plenty of other war torn locations, left money on the table. If he wanted to go to Italy with a supermodel he damn well could. “Abso - fucking - lutely not.”

  If it were anyone else he would add a snooty ‘end of discussion’. But Uday was a good man, and a better father. He was also a shrewd businessman that allowed no one, rival or family, to surpass him. Ekene was a millionaire, and daddy was a billionaire. With a buh buh buh B.

  That’s why he was asking this favor for Saverio. The Esposito family was a close second when it came to net worth, and Saverio wouldn’t stoop so low as to make the request himself. Not to someone of Ekene’s ‘lowly’ calibur. “Saverio planning on doing a lot of illicit business at the party? Use their shipping methods of transporting cloth-”

  Slam! His father’s massive hand crashed against the table, the force making the whole thing shake as he shot to his feet. Ekene went stiff, frozen in his chair. The booming clatter was the least impressive thing about Uday’s massive presence. Taller than his son’s six foot four by a head, the man’s massive muscles tightened in a dangerous flex of restraint.

  “She’s just a girl that needs protecting.” Uday snapped. It was almost offensive that his father would degrade Ekene with such a pathetic answer while his nose still flared. “You’ve got plenty of time-”

  “To hide the world's largest illegal export? Maybe she shouldn’t have gotten into the game.” Ekene shot back, inch by painful inch lifting from his seat. The Esposito’s name dominated the fashion world, and the princess was about to have her own high fashion line released in Rome. Guns, drugs, maybe even women would be traded on the black market if the rumors could be believed. “Why is this so important to you?”

  Deep umber eyes locked with Ekene’s sea green. With a deep sigh Uday rubbed between his brows and leaned against the table. Uday’s wild curls bounced as he shook his head. When his father didn’t sit, Ekene made a point of standing as well, eyes narrowed. It was his office damn it, he wouldn’t be intimidated by anyone in here.

  “She reminds me of your mother.”

  That wasn’t the answer Ekene was expecting. A sledge hammer wedged its way between his ribs, and Ekene jerked away from the table. The office hiding them from the rest of Caton Security Firm was large. Made of clear glass, the conference table could seat no less than eighteen people, and the windows went from floor to ceiling. The cityscape blocked the most impressive views outside, but the persistent sunlight was pleasant.

  Nose almost pressed to glass, Ekene stared out over the chunk of New York that was his. “How so?”

  It clearly wasn’t physical. Ekene’s mother had the same deep taupe skin tone he did. And despite sharing the same wild curls of his father, Ekene’s hair was contained in long black dreads like his mothers.

  Rosamma had classic Italian features, not a surprise considering her family lived there for the last one thousand years. There might be some resemblance in the soft heart shaped cheeks, and the big honey brown eyes that made her model worthy.

  “Sweet as honey, and stubborn if given motive. I’ve grown fond of the little bird.”

  “She isn’t mom.”

  “But she’s just as innocent. There’ve already been viable death threats and my network is picking up kidnapping plots everywhere.” It’s left unsaid that these threats are coming from the worst of the worst criminals in the underworld. Ekene closed his eyes.

  “No.” He breathed. This girl wasn’t his responsibility. She reminded his father of a long lost mother whose ‘disappearance’ was less of a mystery and more of a cover up. Maybe he thought of Rosamma as a way to rectify the past, but what happened twenty five years ago could never be undone.

  It certainly wouldn’t be made better by protecting this girl from whatever fate her father sewed for her. After joining the army the day he turned eighteen, one of the many life lessons Ekene learned was he couldn't save them all. When he was discharged, and joined a mercenary group - he learned only a select few deserved saving. And she wasn’t one of them.

  “You’ll force me to play my trump card because you don’t want to what? Walk around holding shopping bags in Italy? Be surrounded by tall gorgeous women?”

  “I don’t w
ant to do it because it’s beneath me.” Ekene grit out, turning to glare at his father over the table. An intricate vase holding a single violet acted as ‘decoration’, and didn't even start to obscure either man from the other. “I have a bodyguard division, use one of them.”

  “A couple years of hitting the pavement and suddenly you’re too good to live the same life as your employees?”

  “Yes!” Ekene finally shouted, red paint coating his eyes in rage. “I did my time being the mule for pretty princesses and their daddies who put them in danger. I did the demeaning jobs, I built my reputation, this security firm-”

  “And if I recall you had a lot of help.” Quiet as a whisper, Uday’s words brought bumps to Ekene’s arms. A moment of silence stretched between them.

  “I - I built Caton Security from the ground up for five years.” Like a drop of blood in shark infested waters, Ekene’s lack of confidence gave Uday something to latch onto.

  “And you’d still be nowhere near as successful without me.” It’s a slap in the face, the flippant way Uday stated the obvious.

  “That isn’t true.”

  “Oh no? How many bouncer jobs did it take after you were discharged to get into bodyguard work? How many clients before you caught the eye of a sub par merc group. Your short bloody career was on a fast track to being a nice up and comer in the game. But without my five million dollars you never would have become Caton Security.”

  “Come out and say it, dad.” Ekene whispered.

  “Either you go, or I do.”

  In the beginning that meant five million dollars walking out of the door. Now it was more along the lines of five hundred. Killing people, and keeping people from getting killed, was a busy business. With the right foot in the door, you could make a lot more money in private security than you put into it.

  Uday was a majority shareholder. Losing him might cause a panic in stock, and outright bankrupt the company. “She isn’t even family.” Ekene said. His mind felt numb.

  “I have to do this, I’m not asking for you to understand.” His father's shoulders were straight back, no flinch or twitch of emotion present.

  “Mom-”

  “I know!” And then the facade is shattered, and his father's explosive temper was written across Uday’s face once more. Like one of the traditional devil masks kept in his private office. “It isn’t her, it doesn’t change anything, but it’s something. Moira would want us to help this girl, if we can stop the same thing that happened to your mother from happening to Rosamma - that should be enough for you.”

  “It isn’t.” Ekene snarled, shoving his hands in his pockets to hide the curling of his fists.

  “But?”

  “My money damn well is.” He muttered. “Or should I say your money?”

  A sardonic twist of the lips brought out the deepness of Uday’s wrinkles, and he sat back in his chair looking almost as old as he was. “Faraji will be your contact in Italy. He wanted to be there for the fashion line’s announcement while monitoring chatter on Rosamma.”

  “Or course he does.” Ekene sighed, yanking a seat from under the table and melting into it with a pained groan. The rambunctious little brother who ran Uday’s underworld interests was actually Ekene’s favorite sibling. They worked closely on more than one occasion - warfare and secrets went hand in hand after all. And this type of mission was right up his alley. Spoiled little fuck would enjoy fashion week in Italy.

  Without another word their unspoken agreement is sealed. Uday reached beneath the table and pushed a suitcase onto the glass surface between them. “Death threats in order from most to least serious, scheduling, building schematics. The whole shebang. It’s everything you need to keep a high asset target safe, so long as you take this seriously.”

  The scolding tone in his father's voice made Ekene’s eye twitch, but he held his tongue. It’d be a lie to say he planned on giving his all for the spoiled and pampered Rosamma Esposito. Plenty of girls had the exact same threats from equally awful people leveled at them thanks to their daddies. They were never the primary target, all these porcelain dolls were good for was bait. Money was the main motivation, revenge too, on occasion.

  Revenge threats he’d take serious. In silence, Ekene opened his father’s suitcase with a thumbprint scanner. Two clasps popped open. On top of the limitless amount of papers stuffed into the case was an unassuming flier. A picture spread of clothing surrounded an angelic vision of Rosamma in one of her dresses. It had all the colors of the rainbow, each new shade its own veneer fabric to highlight legs that could be climbed to the moon. Beneath it in bold lettering was an advertisement.

  Break in this Unicorn Package yourself!

  Beneath the bold, an asterisk guaranteed that all merchandise was untouched. Descriptions of each article of clothing accompanied the pictures of the fashion line surrounding Rosamma’s petite form. Some talked of leather belts, others on how to properly care for the product. With a grunt, he shoved it to the bottom of the pile. It must have been misplaced.

  “When do we make the trip to Rome?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Ekene skimmed through the folder for the flight plans before raising his brow at Uday. “And how are we getting there?” There was nothing in the folder that hinted about travel plans.

  “Saverio has a private plane, I have a private hangar.” A shrug of the shoulders, that’s all it took for Uday to wipe away a problem it’d take Ekene hours to solve. Movement of an asset was the most dangerous part of guarding something, be it a person or an object. Tempted to recommend Uday keep Rosamma safe himself, Ekene bit his tongue and began going through the other files.

  Chapter Two

  All of this was new to Rosamma. Less than five years ago she lived life on repeat, going home to the same two-bedroom apartment. She made the same dinner for her mama Vittoria, who’d retired from being a prostitute when Rosamma was about five. Before going back to that lifestyle ten years later.

  The drive through New York’s crowded streets to a private air hangar holding an equally private plane took an hour. Rosamma couldn’t help but stare, mouth hanging open as they drove past the giant metal birds. More impressive were the buildings used to house them.

  Even in the safety of her father’s limo, Rosamma couldn't help but lock the vehicle. It made her feel safer. ‘If I come home with a man lock your bedroom door.’ Sometimes they tried to come in when finished with Vittoria. The click, click of a doorknob turning still brought her nightmares.

  Strife and struggle were a thing of the past now, thanks to Papa. To this day the amount of wealth he had was mind blowing. After struggling to survive for so long, it felt akin to winning the lottery, being accepted into Saverio’s arms. And she knew better than to look a gifted horse in the mouth. Even if Mama wasn’t invited along.

  She would listen to Mama’s favorite pastime, claiming Rosamma stole all of her beauty. That the theft turned Vittoria into a waitress. A toad compared to the woman that could lure billionaires to her lair. In the end it was easier to admit Mama was better sucking cock and bringing home Johns every night than caring for her daughter.

  But that was over.

  Off in the corner of the runway was the hanger Uday Caton owned and loaned to papa for this flight. With the door open for a sleek black jet to get out, linoleum sparkled in the sunlight. A few people scampered around. Amongst the throng one man stood still in a standard bodyguard suit and tie.

  Stone in the middle of a rushing river.

  Papa said Rosamma would be getting special security, but this wasn’t who he meant. It couldn’t be. The man was more intimidating than the devil, even so far away. And every second that brought them closer together only confirmed Rosamma’s belief she was meeting a god of war. It was him who opened the limo for her to step out.

  Hunched over to pass under the car door, her eyes were practically forced to sweep from the man’s toes, to his terrifying yet handsome face. Hard muscles strained against a Prada s
uit while his jacket hung open. It left much to be desired for hiding the holster on his hip. Assuming he wanted it hidden.

  Sharp green eyes made no move to disguise the deliberate sweep down her own body in return. A white pleated skirt and cute pink button-down shirt for tennis seemed underdressed next to him. Steeling herself against the glare of derision he was sure to give (as most rich people did when she underdressed), Rosamma smiled. “You must be Ekene.” Her hand shot out, and her lips spread wider as he remained still. “Papa said you’re the best at what you do?”

  “I’m not here to make small talk.” Yet slower than the dead, Ekene’s massive hand engulfed hers. An arc of electricity tingled between her legs as their eyes met. Both refused to glance away first. “Only to make sure you don’t die.”

  That made her gaze drop. But instead of releasing his hand, she took it in both of hers, thumbs racing upwards to play with his fingers. It was a nervous habit of hers, if she didn’t have a fidget spinner or a necklace to bother Rosamma sought the next best thing. “Thank you for going. I’m happy I’ll have someone to protect me.”

  Danger existed in the world, and she’d seen the outcome of a helpless girl without a protector one too many times. Mama taught her young. Whether it was a pimp fond of slapping girls around, or a bodyguard, girls like them needed protecting. Plenty came out of that life forged from fire, and harder than steel. Rosamma respected those women, but… she enjoyed the comforts of being cared for.

  “Just doing my job ma’am.” Gently he removed his hand from her grasp, making Rosamma’s cheeks flare red.

  “Most jobs aren’t about protecting others.” She murmured, brushing a dark strand of hair behind her ear. His emerald gaze snapped to the small movement, the intensity of his almost glare bringing bumps to her arms.

  “Just trying to make a living.” Despite the grumble, a hint of honesty leaked from Ekene’s voice. What really made her nose scrunch was the ‘ma’am’.

  “Rosamma. Please. I prefer to be on a first name basis with others.” Dark brows rose on his forehead, and she couldn’t help the coy smirk. “Besides, you’re older than me. At least call me miss.”