Claimed

ALEXIA GREEN. 

Urinary incontinence. 

Or as I like to call it, loss of bladder control. 

It happened to me once. On that frightful night. And the men there called me disgusting, called me a whore, all little words aimed at decimating my self–esteem. 

Their words worked though. 

Brad’s words ‘you are nothing but Rhett’s bitch‘ ate me up for a whole two weeks. 

Right now, I’m standing in front of a man who called me a slut a few minutes ago. 

It was unintentional sure but that doesn’t mean it 

didn’t sting. Like how his words sting a little. 

sometimes. 

Except Vicious; cruel, dangerous, a million times scarier than Brad isn’t looking at me like a whore. or a slut after I told him my story and maybe that’s the reason why I’m standing beneath a showerhead with him. 

Slate dark eyes size me up, take my five feet in and impatience leaks at his seams. 

I’m not like the women he dates. Probably. 

11/11 

Setting 

15/ 

Maybe Okay Fin not like a solid ten when it comes to looks but my self–esteem and my dignity are straight in the gutter. 

I peed myself 

poqqosl 

I hid 

I don’t give a hoot right now if I look like a hobo from the street. 

“Need help with the dress?” he asks, my knees. 

buckle harder. 

“Yes, please.” Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

“Hold on.” 

And I hold on. 

I hold on to these broad shoulders of his and hug them tight because I’m afraid if I let go, I’ll fall. 

Fall to despair. 

Disappoint my baby. 

Let Brad, Rhett and those monsters win. 

“Are you going to tear this one in half too?” I ask trying to release the tension that is as thick as his 

head. 

He leans down, his cheek, the one covered with at dark stubble grazes my cheek and I shiver. 

His fingertips, cold, terrific, definitely colder than 

the Arctic, find the zip to the dress. 

The one that is hidden by my hair and he is 

forced to swipe the hair from my back to access it better. 

“Do you want me to tear it in half?” 

“No.” 

“Then I won’t“, he promises and I bite that promise with big hungry teeth. 

With as much dexterity as a brute man like him. shouldn’t have, he slides the zip slowly and torturously down my back revealing patches and patches of my definitely stinking skin. 

The dress pools around my ankles, it almost feels like déjà vu from the other night. 

Yet today he is not angry. 

He is understanding. 

He is gentle. 

He pities me. 

I raise my head. 

My eyes lunge at his dark ones. 

“Take the bra off and the panties.” 

His voice is low, commanding, dripping sexiness, oozing that ruggedness to it that would make the entire population of women start a third world 

war. 

Being naked in front of him? 

Yeah, I’m too ashamed, too cowardly to say no to 

He carried me when I had pee on me. He’s standing in the same shower cabinet I am. 

I take my bra off throwing it somewhere on the Пloor. My perky nipples reach out to him but I refuse to admit that’s the case. 

Vicious never takes his eyes off of me. 

I can swear I see his jaw twitch but that’s wishful thinking. 

My breasts are full, heavy with Millie’s food, my body isn’t what it used to be, any man who would be attracted to me is either blind or 

short–sighted. 

I wiggle out of my panties. 

“I’m sorry about the pee and this. You can leave if you want to.” 

“You wanted me here and here I shall stay. You 

ready?” 

I nod. 

He doesn’t give me any warning before he turns 

the shower on. 

Water trickles down my body with vengeance. 

“It’s cold“, I complain. 

The gruff man who’s getting wet and reaching for something behind me says, “Cold water is better.” 

“Not for me, it isn’t. You are in your suit, I’m naked and it’s hella freezing,“ 

“Stay still” 

Cool liquid drops on my head, his hands work inside my hair. 

“Vicious- 

“You wanted an anchor; I’m being an anchor.” 

And that’s his way of telling me not to speak as he shampoos my hair, as his hands lather soap and scrub the skin on my back. 

He doesn’t touch my boobs. Frankly to him, they 

don’t exist. 

But every drop of water, every time his hands touch my skin, I feel like I’m burning up with a 

fever. 

Rhett didn’t feel like this. 

Rhett felt like how a man from the street touched 

you. 

Vicious? He felt like heaven wrapped in hellfire. Marshmallows wrapped in spicy hot Cheetos. 

“Did you know Brad before you hired him?” I ask. 

I don’t know what I’m asking because I know for a fact this man hires the worst of the worst. 

Killers, drug traffickers, I don’t think rapists would. miss his list of recruits. 

“If you are asking if I knew he was one of Rhett’s 

delinquent friends, then no I didn’t know.” 

That half assures me. 

“But now that you do, will you take Brad as my replacement to pay the debt?” 

He rinses my butt with one of the shower heads. that spews cold water and not once does he touch 

1. me. 

“No” 

“Why? Brad can pay the debt. I haven’t spoken to Rhett in months.” 

Brad has a fancy job that can raise one million dollars in the brink of an eye. 

“I need your services and Brad won’t get to live once I’m done here.” 

I take a step back. 

Cold water streams between us without a care in 

the world. 

His dark hair is damp, rivulets of water streak down his forehead. His suit is practically clinging to him for dear life. 

And his muscles… 

Everything around us should be enough to 

distract me. The situation should distract me. 

But nothing is going to distract me from what he just said. 

“You are not going to kill Brad.” 

“It isn’t up for you to decide, Little Nurse.” 

“No, I told you the story, you want to kill him because you pity me or satisfy whatever fetish. you have with blood and I won’t allow it.” 

“You don’t want him dead? You want to cower in 

front of your enemies every single fucking day?” 

“They are my enemies” 

“You are my nurse“, his eyes flare. His knuckles 

fist. 

Angry Vicious is staring at me now and all he sees is red. All I see is a monster I’ve unleashed. 

“I don’t take lives. I hate that bastard; I hate Rhett and every single human who thinks puppies are monsters but I’m not gonna let a man die because. of me. I’ll let God take care of him.” 

“Your God didn’t save you. Your God brought you to a monster bigger than Rhett. He brought you to me and you want to know something? God doesn’t kill evil; He lets it thrive. He let me 

thrive.” 

God brought Millie to me. 

He brought me to Vicious when I was on the verge of starving for another week. 

But I don’t tell my boss that, I look him in the eye. and beg, 

“Promise me, you are not going to kill him.” 

“No.” 

“Promise me.” 

“Fine.” 

“Good. Now, leave. I don’t need an anchor 

anymore.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I just remembered you are my boss, Boss. Bosses don’t get to see their employees. 

naked.” 

His scowl grows bigger. His eyes look like they’ll spew lasers and decimate me into ashes, but he respects my decision. 

He leaves. 

My sanity crawls its way back to my head. 

Enemy. He’s the bloody enemy. 

I take a quick bath. Quickest bath I’ve ever taken just to rush to my baby. 

When I slide open the shower glass wall, veiny muscular hands greet me and in them is the same design of the dress that’s currently sitting on the 

floor of the washroom I was in 

Vicious looks me in the eyes and states ever so casually. 

“There are panties beneath the dress and a bra too” 

I take the dress from his hands and beneath it is a matching bra and panties that have exquisite lace at the edges. 

“I don’t need the bra though. The picnic dress can do without- 

“You are wearing everything I’ve brought Little Nurse. This isn’t a negotiation.” 

I take the dress. The bra. The panties 

He watches until all of them are hugged tight against my chest, the one that’s hidden by a towel, then he leaves. 

Does he leave still wearing a wet suit? He does. 

Do I care: I shouldn’t. But sweet Mother of Jesus a wet and soaking Volkov is like a peach drenched in chocolate and wagged right in front of you. There’s no way you wouldn’t bite it. I. Dare. You 

Christian is gone by the time I get out of the shower in a brand–new dress and with newfound confidence I shouldn’t have after what happened 

Setting 

today. 

The fear that was once grabbing every inch of 

energy my body offered has now been reduced to 

hate. 

Hate for Brad. Hate for Rhett and hate for the 

women who birthed those Two bastards and 

failed to teach them manners. 

I know I won’t see Brad again because Vicious will either fire him or send him to a country too far away for me to ever be tormented again. 

The thought puts a smile on my face, as my Converse shoes meet the outside of the dressing 

room. 

Bones snapping sears my ears faster than my 

smile that can stay up. 

Muffled grunting clogs my throat. 

Blood, the blood I’m seeing right now clogs my throat and makes me want to barf. Ironical since 

I’ve seen worse.. 

Though the irony? The irony that’s slapping my face like a bitch is the image in front of me. 

My baby girl is in the arms of the man who has a sleeveless vest. Those snazzy ones that make musicians like rock stars seem cool. 

Millie looks like she’s sleeping unaware of the heavily tattooed man holding her. I’m guessing 

Setting 

1526 

Choice? 

abe gesing the man smirking while he kasse Brad like a punching bag is 

Aust Vicious the docu’t even see me as he divers knuckle breaking punches to an 

the broke his promise. 

You promised.” 

My voice itself makes me dizzy. 

Blood drips from Vicious’s knuckles but he decent acknowledge me. He turns to Jett and strs “Take her and the child home.”