Chapter 1

Samantha Sipole, a somewhat tall woman of 5 foot 7 inches with medium length red hair, loved coming to the discount store, especially on a super sale day, when everything was at 50 percent off. She was lucky she could go because she was on a two-week vacation from her work and this trip had been a surprise from her boyfriend, Carl Jones; A man of average build, with brown hair and stood just an inch and a half taller than Samantha. That was even more of a surprise; he usually didn't like to go to these types of stores. Samantha had found several things she just had to have and was now looking for Carl to tell them she was finished. She found him in the hardware section, of course.

They left the store and headed for the main highway. They never made it, however, the jeep they were in seemed to break down and Carl pulled it into a warehouse parking lot. He got out to see what the trouble was however he was no mechanic.

"I can't see what the trouble is. Wait here. I'm going to see if there's anyone here that can help," and he went walking towards the building.

Samantha sat in the jeep waiting. There really wasn't anything she could do either she had grown up in New York and her family didn't even own a car. Time passed slowly as it does when one is waiting. Samantha started to get worried after 30 minutes, but when clock showed that an hour had passed she was not only worried but also scared. Carl should have found someone by now. Finally it became too much and Samantha had to go looking. She made her way around to the side of the warehouse where she found a door that was open and went in.

The warehouse was nothing special and all Samantha found was several cars. There was what looked like an office on the far side so Samantha headed in that direction, but as she expected there was no one in it. Suddenly there was a noise behind her, she turned and she saw the big bay door opening and the jeep, she had been in, being pushed in. There were five men pushing it, all well build and with dark hair. It was as they finished pushing in the jeep, that they noticed her, but just as she was about to open her mouth to ask if they had figured out what was wrong with the vehicle, the men all pulled their guns and pointed them at her. Samantha threw up her hands and tried to tell the men that she was looking for her boyfriend who had gone to look for help with the jeep. The men grabbed her, tied her hands behind her back, then tied her feet and shoved her into a box.

Samantha couldn't tell how long she was in the box, traveling to who knows where. All she did know was that after a short time, the ropes used on her were too tight and were cutting off circulation to her hands and feet. Samantha did manage to prop herself up against the box wall, though, and of course she was begging to be set free, telling them that she didn't know anything and hadn't seen anything, but no one was listening.

Finally, the box stopped moving and the side was opened. There were several people on the outside of the box. "You can come out now," someone said.

"I can't. I can't move. Please, I didn't do anything, I was just looking for my boyfriend." Samantha cried.

"I said, get out of there now." The voice said again.

"I can't, I told you, I can't move. I can't feel my feet or my hands. Please, someone help me."

Samantha heard several people move and suddenly the box was tipped over and she was sent tumbling out. Samantha screamed because the pain and the shock were too much.

"Untie her," said the same man.

Samantha kept her eyes closed so that she could honestly say she hadn't seen anything. She heard someone move behind her and the man gave a startled gasp. "Sir, her hands, they're all but blue," he paused. Samantha could just barely feel him touch her hands. "And they're ice cold." The man didn't stop to get orders but quickly cut the ropes and hissed as he slowly pulled them from around Samantha's wrists. Samantha was in tears when he had finished with her hands and feared how bad her feet were, she had no feeling in either of them at all. Samantha felt more hands as they helped to straighten out her legs. The ropes there were cut, the shoes and then her socks were removed; the man let slip a curse. That alone told Samantha that her feet were indeed bad.

"Massage her feet and hands, see if that helps. Bring her something to drink and make it strong, when her hands and feet wake up they're going to hurt like hell." Said the man that had ordered her out of the box but he didn't sound angry, just concerned. People ran around, several came to her and helped her to turn over, then helped her to drink some kind of very strong liquor. Samantha's hands were the first to start waking up and they stung like she had placed them in a hive of bees. She also knew that without the liquor it would have been worse. As it was, she was crying and trying very hard not to scream. It was just after, whoever was working on her feet sighed, telling her that the color in her feet was getting better that her feet started to wake up and she did scream.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, all the pain stopped, and so did the people working on her. They all moved away, someone else came up and either knelt or sat beside her. "You can open your eyes now. Your hands and feet look much better."

"Please, I didn't do anything, I was just looking for my boyfriend who was looking for someone to help him with the jeep we were in. Please, I just want to go home."

"And whom would this boyfriend be?" asked the voice.

"His name's Carl Jones." She answered

"Ah yes, we know Carl. You see, he owes me a very large sum of money. The jeep is a down payment and you, my dear, an incentive not to have his legs broken. So you can open your eyes now because you are home."

"What? No, please you can't do this. He had no right to do this. Can't you see this isn't right?" her voice was full of fright.

"Why don't you open your eyes, then we'll go somewhere and talk. I promise, I'll be a perfect gentleman."

He gave her no time to answer him as he stood up then with one quick pull had her on my feet and because of the movement Samantha's eyes flew open. "My, what beautiful eyes you have."

"Please, don't do this. Don't make me a victim again. Please, don't make me." She was begging, trying to pull away from him and hoping this man would not try what she prayed he wouldn't try to do. He took hold of her shoulders and began gently walking her towards a door and out into a hall. The man was tall, near six feet or just over, with dark hair that was going grey and stronger than he looked with his thin frame, "Victim, now why would I make you a victim and a victim of what?"

"Please, let me go home and I promise I won't say anything to anyone."

Samantha knew she was rambling, but she was hoping that this would make the man see how pathetic and small she was and let her go. They stopped for a moment as the man opened a door and ushered her inside. "Now why don't we start by you telling me your name, and what kind of victim you think you might become?"

"My name's Samantha Sipole. Please, I can't. Please just let me go."

"Samantha, what are you expecting to have happen here? Yes, you were sent as a gift in the hopes that I'll give Carl an extension, but I haven't decided to do that yet."

Samantha couldn't help herself and she started crying. The man helped her to sit on a couch then got her something to drink and waited for her to calm down again. Robert had always been a softy when it came to women crying. He was also known by his peers to be an overly kind and caring gentleman. It was just how he was and how he was raised. And now that he was the head of the family it was how he expected his people to act until the time came to take care of business.

When Samantha had calmed down she decided to tell the man what she was and in a small voice said. "Please, don't hurt me. I've been through enough. 6 years ago, I was attacked. There were two men; one raped me then after the other beat me. Please, I just want to go home. Don't make me go through it all again, please."

"What? Oh how... Now I understand. You don't have to worry about that. Any woman I am likely to be with comes to me very happily and of her own free will. Tell me, did Carl know this?"

"Yes, He was the first that I had allowed myself to be with. Even though he did force the issue, I think."

"He didn't force you to have sex when you weren't ready? Did he?" He began to sound annoyed.

"I don't think I was fully ready, but we had been dating for 5 months and he kept telling me that I needed to get back into the saddle, so to speak, after being raped. He said, otherwise, the men that hurt me would still have power over me. I didn't want them to have power over me, so I finally gave in."

"That bastard, I should have him killed just for that." He took Samantha's chin and raised her head to look into her eyes. "I promise, no one will touch you here, and any that do, will die! Samantha, I think you should rest for a while and then later I'll send someone to bring you down to dinner. We'll talk more later." The man stood, turned, took Samantha's hand and kissed the back of it, then left her sitting on the couch. Samantha knew it was no good trying to get out through the door; it would most likely be locked if not guarded.

The room she was in was a very nice one that looked out onto the ocean. So, she got up taking the glass of liquor with her to go look out the window. The view was wonderful and she could tell that if she was still here by sundown the sunset would be lovely. The rest of the room looked very expensive as will as nice. Samantha poured herself a fresh drink and forced herself to relax.

She was just nodding off on the couch when there was a knock on the door. As Samantha got to her feet to go open it, the door opened and in walked a young girl. She was in a pink sundress and had long black hair. "The master says that dinner will be ready soon. He thought you might like to dress for dinner. He had me bring this up from one of the other ladies that live here. He hopes it will fit." She said as she held out the dress. Samantha not wanting to anger her host, she took the dress and held it up to herself. It wasn't overly fancy but it was lovely, a shade of yellow that she liked. Samantha went into the second room and changed. To her surprise, the dress did fit wonderfully. When she returned to the front room, the young girl was still standing there. "If you'd just follow me, I'll show you to the dinning room," and that's just what the girl did.

Samantha followed the girl to a very large room. There were several tables; most had a few people at them. The man that Samantha had talked to earlier stood up and motioned for her to come over to where he was. As she reached him, he said. "My dear you look quite nice in my cousin's dress. Now you just come and sit near me and we'll get started on the food. Here, if you go hungry, it means that you're not in the room where the food is." He paused to see her reaction to the joke, there wasn't any. "Are you all right? You look a little pale."

"I'm fine, I think, I just need some food." Samantha tried to play it down but she was scared almost out of her mind.

Dinner was served and everyone started eating and talking. Samantha didn't really want to eat. The man, after taking several bites of his food turned to Samantha, "You know, I just realized that I haven't introduced myself. You've had me so distracted with your story. I'm Mr. Machiavelli, but most just call me Boss. You said your name was Samantha..."

"Samantha Sipole."

"Miss Sipole, how do you like your room? I do hope you're not afraid of heights." He laughed. Samantha couldn't help it; she found a smile coming to her face. "Now that's better. I would guess that you have quite a number of questions to ask, but before you do, I think I should tell you I don't intend to tell you where you are. I haven't made up my mind whether I'm going to send you back and for your safety, it would be best if you not know this location. Also, Carl, your so-called boyfriend, owes me over 7 figures. The jeep he sent to me was stolen from somewhere and whether he did it or had someone else do it I don't know. I did find a letter he wrote; that's why when you first got here, I was under the impression that you came of your choosing. I do apologize for the way my men treated you. They just thought you were an intruder. They found the note just before all of you got here. Now do you have any other questions?"

Samantha had to think. He gave her answers to several of the questions that she was going to ask. Finally, she had one. "There seem to be a lot of people here. Are all of them employees or are they all family members?"

"Actual they're both. I do run a "family" business. I don't think that I have to go into that very much for you to understand."

"No, you don't." Samantha knew exactly what he was talking about. Mr. Machiavelli took the break to take a few bites of his food. Samantha didn't think she could eat, but she made herself do so anyway.

By the time the meal was over, she had asked several more questions, some about Carl. Many of the answers about him concerned her deeply.

"I think, I'll walk you back to your room. You don't look quite right. This might be prying, but could you be pregnant?" Mr. Machiavelli asked as he began walking her to her room.

"No, I am not pregnant. When Carl and I had... I was very careful to make sure he was wearing a condom and I've been on the pill for years. Though, I haven't had the pills since the day I was taken from the warehouse and brought here, and I'm not sure how long that was. It could be that I'm about to start. Though I usually get really bad cramps first."

"That could be why, especially, if you're not used to coming off your schedule. Well, maybe you'll feel better after a good night's sleep." the conversation ended as they reached her room. He opened the door and ushered her in. "Now I want you to get some sleep. Have some wine it might help..." Whatever else he was going to say was interrupted by the fact that Samantha had fallen to the floor, shaking, with her eyes rolled up into her head. Mr. Machiavelli yelled for help and for someone to call the doctor. A man ran in, saw what was going on, and then ran from the room. A second man came in just after and moved right to him. "Boss, what happened?" He asked.

"I don't know. Help me get her off the floor and onto her bed."

The two of them picked Samantha up and started for the bed, the other man stated, "The tremors are calming down, I think. Is she epileptic or something?" the man asked.

"I don't know that either. I knew she wasn't well at dinner, but I thought it was something else." Machiavelli answered.

By the end of the conversation, they had Samantha on her bed. Several women came in, a short time later another man, who was obviously the doctor, did.

Samantha woke with a splitting headache. The lights in the room were low and there was someone talking somewhere near, but she could say for sure, then she remembered where she was and what had happened to her. She closed her eyes again, lifted the blanket then opened her eyes to see if she had been... but she was dressed in, what looked to be a long cotton nightgown.

"Ah, I see the sleeper's awake. How do you feel?" Mr. Machiavelli asked his voice and face, full of concern. He came over and sat on the side of the bed.

"What happened? I remember coming back from dinner then..."

"Well, you nearly scared ten years out of me that's for sure. You should have told me you had a medical condition. The doctor says you're going to be fine, but you needed to take your meds. If I had known, I would have had you back home yesterday."

"Meds? I don't take anything except birth control pills. Just, please, tell me what happened. Though I think I know."

"As your wish; we got to your room and just as I was going to leave, you hit the floor shaking all over. The doctor says you had a seizure." He replied.

"It wasn't a real seizure. My brain just needed to reboot. That's all. I'll be fine."

"It's happened before?" Mr. Machiavelli exclaimed

Samantha nodded. "Right after I was raped. I guess I was just got so scared it would happen again... I haven't had an episode in over four years. "

"So, you don't take anything? The doctor gave you something and he left some with instruction for you, but he strongly suggests that you see your own doctor. Possibly you may need to start taking something now."

"I just need to stay calm and not be scared. I may not even have another attack."

"I think once you're stronger, you're going home. I'll have Don take you. He's a good man. He'll see that nothing happens to you."

"Thank you." said Samantha with relief.

"Now get some rest." And with that, he got up from the bed, left the room and closed the door behind him.

The next day started with breakfast in bed, served and almost fed to her, by the young girl who Samantha had met the day before. Then the doctor came by, and after a quick check and with a small discussion about stress induced epilepsy, he left. Samantha got up, dressed and after an hour or so, Mr. Machiavelli and another man arrived.

"Good morning, Samantha. How are you today? The doctor tells me you're much improved."

"I feel much better, thank you." Sam smiled shyly at him.

"I thought I'd introduce you to Don before the two of you left this afternoon." He gave a little wave with his hand and the man came forwards. He was a very handsome man. His hair was dark brown and wavy. He had one of those Italian baby faces, which was full and round and sweet. She found that she liked that face much more than she liked Carl's plain face, but she was going to keep that to herself. "You two should talk, Don, let her know what's going to happen, please. We can't have her getting scared again."

"Yes, Sir. We definitely don't want her to be scared again. It scared me enough that I thought I was going to have an accident." After the introduction, Mr. Machiavelli turned and left the room. "Miss Sipole, if you would come and sit down, I'll tell you how things are going to go. I also need to get your address from you, so we know where to take you." He smiled and put out his hand. Samantha couldn't help it; she smiled back and took his hand. He led her to the couch. "In a little while someone is going to come and get us. At that time, I'll put this hood on your head." He took the hood from his back pocket. "While this is on I'll have a hold of you, either by the hand or by the arm. After two hours or so, I'll take the hood off. From there we'll, that is a few men and I, will take you to your home and see you safely inside. Do you have any questions?"

"Not right now, but I would like some wine. I had some yesterday before dinner and it was one of the best I've ever had."

"We do get some of the best." Don got up and poured Samantha a half glass. "Here we go. I don't want to give you a full glass; it might have a bad reaction with some of the meds that the doctor gave you."

"Thank you." Samantha paused to take a sip. Don sat back down after getting himself a small glass. It wasn't long until their escort came to get them.

Don had Samantha stand and handed her the hood to put on. She took it but just stared at it. "Do I really have to have this? I can keep my eyes closed until you tell me."

"I'm afraid so. It's the only way we can be sure of your safety. Don't worry I'll be here the whole time."

She resigned herself to having to wear the hood and put it on. She felt Don take her by the arm and the other man came forward and took hold of the other arm. The two of them led Samantha out of the room. From there Samantha couldn't tell were she was, except that she was taken to a plane, Don told her everything that was going on through out the whole trip.

After, who knew how long, or to say Samantha didn't know how long, Don, who never let go of her arm or hand, finally took the hood off. "I do hope you weren't too scared. I tried to tell you everything that was going on."