Read Master of the Opera, Act 5: A Haunting Duet for Free Online

her, but she turned her face away, struggling to get loose, so he sank his teeth into the cord of muscle beneath her ear, grinding his erect cock against her tender mound.
    Christine inhaled to scream and he spoke through his teeth. “Go ahead. Scream. The cops can’t touch me and I can always punish you later. Believe me—I know how to do it in ways that won’t show. You have belonged to the Sanclaros since you were born. Since before that—no matter what your stubborn father says. No one else will have you. I’ll kill you first.”
    She stilled and he chuckled, licking where he’d bit her. “Just a little love bite, huh, sweet girl? Now tell me the truth.”
    “There’s no one else.” She tried to make it sound true.
    He smiled and let her go. For a moment she thought she’d convinced him.
    Then he slapped her, hard.
    She clapped her hand to her cheek, helplessness and rage rising up, choking her. Roman studied her, filing away her reactions. “Have you read Story of O ? A dirty slut like you would have, I’d think. In there they say you should never spank a girl a little bit, because she grows to enjoy it. No, beatings should be reserved to break her spirit. Otherwise you risk not having perfect obedience. That is what I require of you, Christine. If there was anyone else, you will never contact him again. You understand the consequences if you do?”
    She nodded, still holding her flaming cheek, feeling shattered by it all. Maybe she wasn’t strong enough to see this through.
    “Good.” He smiled and kissed her on the nose. “Now, go put on a pretty dress, a decent one that I bought you, and do something with your hair. You’re coming with me now. Pack an overnight bag. It might be a late evening.”
    Stunned, she went to get dressed, grateful for a last reprieve of privacy. At least she’d managed to convince him. She was going to the Sanclaro compound.
    “Oh, Christy?” Roman called from the other room. “Call your father and tell him about the engagement. He’ll know what to do next.”

6
    T hey drove out to the Sanclaro compound without speaking. Of course, with Roman’s techno music blaring at top volume, conversation wouldn’t have been possible. He seemed in fine good spirits now. Now that he figured he’d won.
    He’d made her change three times, clearly enjoying putting her through her paces, like he was training a dog— sit, stay, roll over, beg —until he was satisfied with the dress she chose. Long-sleeved, with matching ruffles at the wrists and high collar. With the black stockings he’d insisted on, he’d managed to make her look like a maiden aunt.
    The cops followed behind, and Christine wondered what they made of her and all this.
    Inside, she trembled.
    So much for her warrior-priestess self. One slap and she crumpled in fear. She hated herself for it. She could no more stand up to Roman than she could to her father. Just the tone of voice Roman had used had turned her into a crumbly thirteen-year-old again. Nothing had really changed.
    She tried to firm her resolve with the image of the Master—not his bear self, but the man she’d made love with—speared through with the Sanclaro silver cross . . . even though it filled her with a paralyzing dread.
    A tear escaped and ran down her cheek. Roman saw it and turned off the stereo. Her ears rang in the abrupt silence. He sighed and reached over to take her hand, lacing his fingers with hers.
    “Don’t cry, sweet girl. You’ll see that this is all for your own good. This will be the salvation of your immortal soul.”
    “My soul?” she echoed blankly. The scrolled, wrought-iron bars of the Sanclaro gates caught the sunset light, the silver crucifix gleaming with red highlights, as if painted with blood.
    “Resist the devil and he will flee from you,” Roman intoned. “You have been wandering in the wilderness, without guidance, without your real family. Right now you feel confused, but soon you’ll see that all