Mista was currently tied to a wooden chair in some abandoned building with his own gun pointed against his head, by you, of course. He had been captured by you multiple times before this, held “against his will”, just like this before. And he loved every second of it.

"Please let me go," Mista begged sarcastically, "I have a family."

In all honesty, he never wanted you to let him go; but you always did.. after you had your fun with him.