The threat of the pistol levelled at her chest was all it took to ensure Mia’s compliance, the utterly murderous glare in Mr. Davenport’s eyes reinforcing her peril, and so the beautiful Asian woman offered no resistance as she was roughly spun about, the first coils of rope cinching painfully about her wrists. “You’re hurting me,” she whimpered softly. “Why are you doing this?”

“To send a message,” came her captor’s tart reply. Ropes knotted tight, and Mia hissed in pain as a new length locked her elbows together so that her arms were bound firmly behind her back. “If your bastard of a boyfriend thinks he can screw me over, well, he’s got another thing coming.”

“Ethan?” Mia demanded, long dark hair flapping and leather outfit squeaking as she twisted about. “What are you talking--”

“Don’t act like you don’t know!” the older man suddenly shouted, and Mia all but jumped out of her skin. Then the gun was abandoned and he was pinning her against the wall, right hand tight about her throat and leaning in so close she could taste the alcohol on his breath, hot and rank against her skin. “You honestly mean to tell me you didn’t know about the scam he was running? That little slush fund of his? I’m out over half a million dollars because of him, and you dare to play dumb about it?!”

The slightest bit of pressure and he’d squeeze the life out of her, so in the face of that threat, Mia went very still, trying to process exactly what her boyfriend’s business partner was telling her. Ethan was an investment banker, handling vast sums of money for any manner of wealthy clients and ensuring they received reasonable returns. In the six months they’d been dating, Mia had never once seen him act recklessly with another’s funds; indeed, he seemed almost obsessively careful with his work, spending long nights at the office and fretting endless of whether certain investments were performing well enough. Tonight was the first time in two weeks they’d been able to make time for each other, and Mia was just about to go to him when Mr. Davenport had burst into her apartment, gun in hand and a bag full of ropes and tape on his shoulder. “Please, sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, trying and failing to keep the terror from her voice. She was clad in an all-leather ensemble; a low-cut black leather top that accentuated her breasts and left her arms and shoulders bare, black leather pants fitted tight about her long legs, and black leather knee-high stiletto-heeled boots. It was the sort of outfit she knew Ethan would enjoy, but in such close proximity to a man who held her prisoner, she felt decidedly uncomfortable, especially with hie eyes tracing her every curve. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for all of this. I—mmmpggghh!”

His free hand clasped tight over the mouth, stifling her protests. “Oh, I know exactly what the explanation is, and what to do about it. See, for reasons I can’t understand, he has a soft spot for a skank like you. So when you disappear without a trace, that’ll send a message he can’t ignore.”

“Mmmppggghh!” Mia shouted, bridling at the insult. “Mmmmpgggghhh!”

“And if he doesn’t give me back my money, well, I suppose I can make up the cash with your body,” Davenport proclaimed coldly, brown eyes widening in terror at the threat. “I’ve never sold someone into slavery before, but I bet there are any number of men who’d pay handsomely for a woman like you. One way or another, I’m getting my money back.”

The hand fell away, reaching for something in his bag, and Mia screamed, the threat of the gun forgotten. “Help me! Someone, hel—mmmmppgghhh!” A firm sponge forced its way past her lips, smothering her cries, and then Davenport was hustling her over to the couch, pinning her down beneath him. A roll of duct tape was produced, and despite Mia’s best efforts, the lower half of her face was soon sheathed in silver, keeping the gag in place. “MMMPPPGGGH! MMMMMMPPPGGGGHHHHH!”

“No one is going to hear you, and no one is going to help you,” her captor insisted. “And I’d be more cooperative if I were you. After all, anything could happen to you when you’re bound and gagged. Anything.”

There was no mistaking the implication behind that threat, and the defiance bled from Mia, frightened sobs escaping past the gag as her legs were bound at the ankles and knees. Seizing her phone, Davenport took a few quick pictures of the Asian beauty, focusing in on her tear-stained face, and a cruel smile blossomed at the sight. “Yeah, a quick text message with those attached, and he’ll play ball. In the meantime…” He drew a glass bottle and rag from his pack, the sight spurring a fresh burst of pleading from the Asian beauty. “Let’s see about settling those nerves of yours, shall we?”

 “Nnnngghh, mmmppggghhh! MMMPPPGGGGHHH!” Mia screamed, trying to twist her head away. The chloroform-soaked rag nevertheless found its mark over her nose and mouth, and immediately, her struggles began to weaken. “Mmmmppghh… mmmppggghhh…” she moaned softly, thoughts leaden, dark eyes fluttering, limbs like rubber. “Mmmmppggghhh…”

“That’s it, my darling, just breathe it in. With any luck, Ethan will get the message. If not…”