Capture E-Book

Jessa James

• Herausgeber: Jessa James
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: Treasure
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 37

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

One day, I'm cooking dinner for my brothers and dreaming about going off to college. I'm a good girl, protected by the family. After all, my dad is a big mob boss in New Orleans. The next day, I'm stuffed into the back of an SUV against my will. Kidnapped. Shaking with fear. I try to run, try to escape… but I don't realize that I am just a pawn. I don't see the larger picture, or the shadowed man pulling the strings. I don't realize that he is going to capture me. Or that I will be lost from the first moment I look into his eyes…

Leseprobe

Capture

Treasure: 1

Jessa James

Capture: Copyright © 2020 by Jessa James

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electrical, digital or mechanical including but not limited to photocopying, recording, scanning or by any type of data storage and retrieval system without express, written permission from the author.

Published by Jessa James

James, Jessa

Capture

Cover design copyright 2020 by Jessa James, Author

Images/Photo Credit: Deposit photos: Kalcutta; SSilver

Publisher’s Note:

This book was written for an adult audience. The book may contain explicit sexual content. Sexual activities included in this book are strictly fantasies intended for adults and any activities or risks taken by fictional characters within the story are neither endorsed nor encouraged by the author or publisher.

This book has been previously published.

Contents

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

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Also by Jessa James

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1

Katherine Carolla

“Katherine, come see!”

I turn from the stove in the kitchen of the huge antebellum mansion house that I share with my brothers and father, willing myself not to roll my eyes.

I had the misfortune of getting the brains in my family, while the men got all the cunning and the instinct to make money. I got the chance for mental illness too, a gift from my mother who killed herself when I was young. I guess being smarter is a double-edged sword because it makes you way more sensitive to the world’s failings.

Even though I am young, I know this.

“Kat!” my brother Dave calls. “Seriously, come here!”

“I’ve got jambalaya on the stove,” I call out. “Can it wait?”

“No, you gotta see this!” calls my brother Arturo. “It’s so funny!”

I brush back a lock of my long blonde hair, sighing. Turning the jambalaya down to a simmer, I head out of our large, state-of-the-art kitchen and into the living room. There my three brothers are all standing behind my aging father, who is sitting on the couch. My dad holds an iPad, seemingly entranced by whatever is on the screen.

My brothers are carbon copies of Dad; it’s like the March of Progress diagram in my biology textbook, each of my brothers looking like one of the apes that formed the evolutionary steps to become my dad. At the moment, they are all staring at the iPad with rapt attention, their faces lit with the same dark humor.

It makes me a little queasy when my family has that look. The last time they all looked at a screen like that, I found out that they were screening one of the dogfights that they had set up. Blech.

“What is it?” I ask, skirting the couch to come around behind them all. Tony steps aside to make room for me to see what they are so enthralled by.

Looking at the iPad, and I’m instantly repulsed. The screen shows a young woman, hogtied and gagged, like a pig dressed up for roasting. She is obviously quite frightened and keeps looking at something or someone just out of screenshot.

“This is some chick that Art used to bang,” my father says, chuckling. “If you can even believe that he ever got pussy that hot. I mean, look at her!”

Looking at the dark-haired girl, with her creamy white skin marked by harsh-looking red rope, I feel dread in the pit of my stomach. There are tears streaming down her cheeks, traces of her heavy mascara still evident. She’s trembling, almost frantic, and I send up a tiny prayer that she’s just a really good actress.

Otherwise, if my family’s watching this, and it was shot against her will… that’s something entirely different.

On screen, a man clad in head to toe leather steps into the frame, brandishing a bullwhip. I wince, scowling, and turn away. Sadly, I wouldn’t put watching that kind of screwed up porn together past anyone in my family. To be a Carolla in New Orleans is to live on the edge.

Or at least that’s what the men in the room keep telling me, have been telling me for all of the eighteen years I’ve been alive. The Carolla family is old school mafia, real true gangsters, the last of a dying breed. Our family motto is, “A Carolla never quits.”

That has been drummed into me from birth.