Rapine: Abducted by the Billionaire

By: Charlotte Rose

PROLOGUE



As a little girl, I always imagined being in love, having a perfect wedding, and a man who made love to me tenderly, passionately, and loved me unconditionally. I never imagined this; a brutally forceful man who has to get his way, ALWAYS. If he doesn’t get his way, he is enraged.

Derek is gorgeous, powerful, and incessantly dominant. He has a stone-hard, muscular, deep-tanned body. He has big, thick arms that I can’t wrap my two hands around. He has midnight-black hair, dark-brown eyes and a defined, square jawline. He rarely smiles, except when with me in private.

Everyone has the deepest respect for him, a deep fear of displeasing him. He is thirty-seven and currently one of the most powerful men in the world. He told me that in his twenties and early thirties he founded and sold numerous multi-billion dollar companies. He told me that he owns many commercial properties around the world. He told me he is currently a venture capitalist. What really lit my passion for him was that he told me he was part of an elite secret society. I only heard about men this powerful in movies, books, or on television.

He was raised in Poland and came to New York with his family when he was eight. He loves classical music, traveling, the finer things in life, and collecting luxury watches. However, he is still a mystery to me in many ways. He never told me any profoundly personal things about himself. He never tells me where he goes off every day.

I only see him on weekday evenings. On Sundays, we usually spend the day together, doing such things as a spa day getting a couple’s massage; lounging in bed all day drinking wine and watching movies; or leaving the city and going horseback riding, wine tasting, and hiking.

Last week he had proposed and I had said yes. He bought me the most classically elegant engagement ring by Lorraine Schwartz. It’s cushion cut, micropavé, super ideal cut, D flawless, ten carat in the center.

He had selected the perfect time and place for a proposal with it being an especially beautiful fall day in Manhattan. Central Park was sunny and had the brightest orange and red leaves scattered about everywhere. There was a crystal clear blue sky with not one cloud. He had gotten down on one knee in Central Park after a romantic horse-drawn carriage ride. It was a simple, utterly classic proposal, nothing over the top, but perfect in my mind. I must have said yes like fifty times.

The story begins when a few years ago, my best friends, Tanya and Yula, began dating men they termed The Manhattan Elite, while I was studying at Yale University School of Art. These men my friends were dating were not multi-millionaires; these men were billionaires. My friends had always had their eyes on this species of men, and said they would never settle for a man who made less than five million per year.

Tanya and Yula have been my best friends since high school. They both look like top supermodels and I’m really not surprised. Yula is Brazilian and Tanya is Russian.

Yula has long jet-black hair up to her lower back that she nearly always wears down in loose, cascading waves. She has emerald green eyes set below thick, well-defined and high-arched eyebrows. Her face is round, with a tiny little nose, and very full lips. She’s breathtakingly beautiful.

Tanya is even more beautiful. Tanya has a diamond-shaped face, sapphire blue eyes, and a small button nose. She wears her long, blonde hair in different styles every single day and tells us she styles her hair on her own. She must have a colossal encyclopedia of different hairstyles because I rarely see her with the same hairstyle two days in a row.

Yet even though my two best friends are so very beautiful, Derek has told me that I am even more beautiful than Tanya or Yula. I can’t imagine what could make me so much more beautiful than them. Both my parents are Czech and I have their features of dark brown hair, brown eyes, full lips, and an oval face.

Tanya found herself a tech billionaire right after I graduated and took a job as a Publicity Coordinator at The Museum of Modern Art in New York.

Thanks to Tanya’s wisdom, and her constant discussion about The Manhanttan Elite, I was open and willing to meet a wealthy man, but it’s not like I was actively searching for one and it’s not like it’s hard bumping into a billionaire in Manhattan, especially when you are attractive, well-groomed, and well-dressed.

While I was leaving work, Derek had walked up to me, and my eyes lit up when I saw his chiseled face and strong masculine features. I felt instant chemistry and attraction to Derek. He was wearing a black Alexander Amosu qiviut suit. He looked astonishingly handsome and razor-sharp.

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