My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 1 by Marita A. Hansen Page B

he’d brought in two
families, forcing me to sit and listen to the parents and husbands
of the stolen women, all of them begging for their loved one to be
returned. Up to that point I was going to say no, the thought of
Frano touching me making me feel sick, but after I saw a
battle-hardened father break down, crumbling before my eyes, I knew
I had to take the assignment—no matter how much it repulsed
me.
    The bartender returned with my
drink, planting h is elbows on the bar again. “What does your husband look
like?” he asked, probably assessing whether he had a chance with
me.
    “ An arrogant ass of an Italian
with black hair and striking hazel eyes, far too gorgeous for my
own good.”
    He frowned, then glanced at Jagger, my
description a perfect reflection of the man.
    I refrained from
looking, Jagger no doubt listening in. Instead, I pointed to a
customer further down the bar, the man trying to attract the
bartender’s attention. “Looks like you have an order.”
    “ Yes, but it’s for you,” the
bartender smiled. “One tall blond who’s getting off at—”
    “ Sorry,
darling ,
I’ll take the drink but not the man,” I said, smiling at his
pun.
    “ I taste
better.”
    “ I’m sure you do, but I’m likely
to take my rage out on the next man who touches me.”
    Looking amused, he straightened, no
doubt thinking I was no match for his brawn, but my black belt said
differently, although I wouldn’t tell him that, nor Jagger, that
talent needed to remain hidden for the time being.
    I pointed at the customer again.
“You really should serve him.”
    Th e bartender sighed, then headed for
the man, finally getting the picture I was so clearly drawing for
him.
    “ Jagger! Stop ignoring me!” the
blonde woman yelled.
    I looked to the side. Jagger
was still blatantly staring at me. The blonde moved in front of
him, blocking his view. He placed a hand on her hip and gave her a
hard shove, repeating “ Vai via .” The woman stumbled into another man, then spun
around, giving Jagger a slap across his face. Jagger shot up out of
his stool, making the woman shriek, his glare promising
violence.
    “ I’m sorry, Jagger,” she
said, reaching out to touch his cheek.
    He slapped her hand away, cutting her down
in Italian. The blonde started begging for his forgiveness. I
glanced at her hand, noticing the wedding band, probably the reason
why he was with her, the man obviously having an obsession with
things he shouldn’t have.
    “ Basta! ” he snapped enough .
    She pulled a face. “Please, Jagger, you
don’t need her, I’ll be all you want tonight.”
    He sniffed. “Leave now or I
tell Alberto what a puttana you are.”
    “ I’m not a whore, I’m your
lover, and he’d kill you if you tell him such a thing.”
    “ N o one’s my lover, and you’re taking a risk
being here. Alberto could walk in at any moment.”
    She reached for him again. Jagger grabbed
her wrist, making her cry out, his grip no doubt crushing. I’d read
he was a sadistic bastard, someone who enjoyed inflicting pain,
which suited his role as a slave trainer.
    “ Leave now, Bianca,” he let go
of her, “before I teach you your place.”
    The woman flinched, making me
wonder whether she had firsthand knowledge of his
sadism . She
wiped at her eyes, then turned to me. “I hope he ruins you like all
the others,” she growled, then walked off, leaving me
opened-mouthed, although that was only an act for Jagger’s
benefit.
    My attention moved to him as he slipped
into the seat next to mine. He waved the bartender over, then
tapped the glass I hadn’t yet started drinking. “I’ll have the
same.”
    The bartender nodded, moving back down the
counter to make the margarita. It was suspected that the man was on
Jagger’s payroll, possibly the person who spiked the women’s
drinks, although we weren’t sure that was how they were taken. We’d
managed to catch two on camera, both of them leaving straight after
drinking what the