11
Paige
She didn’t know what hurt the most, the pain in her stomach or in her face. At least her nose had finally quit bleeding.
“Just remember what I told you, b***h. We own you now. Got that? We own you. So you’d better keep your mouth shut and show me some respect,” he spat with a murderous glare.
Paige stared at Marco with mutual hatred, the tool who’d tried to feeling her up after she’d all but passed out from the wine he’d offered her. She’d initially rejected it, but her thirst had gotten the better of her.
“Just one glass won’t kill you,” he’d said with an innocent smile. “Then we’ll see what we can do about finding your family and friends, doll-face.”
The white wine hadn’t been half bad and she’d guzzled the glass quickly. When he’d offered her a second, she’d obliged, feel
