The Vendetti Empire

by Sapphire Knight

  One more plunge whilst grinding his pelvis against my clit and I’m thrown into full-out cheerleader mode, yelling as if the score depends on it. I’ve never had a more powerful orgasm as I am now with Dante, fucking me so deeply that I’d swear he’s all the way inside my belly. With a grunt, he comes, his hot seed filling me and mixing with what remains of his brothers’. As he pulls out, finally feeling sated, the mixed cum spills, dripping from my hole. How they expect me to take all their seed is beyond me.

  His chuckle is completely self-assured and arrogant, as is his pleased grin. It’s hard to fathom that he was just telling me how they all killed people in order to fuck me and yet he’s over here acting like the cat that got the cream. He’s probably already forgotten about our previous conversation. Dante pulls his pants back up, secures the buckle and then trots over next to his father and brothers.

  I’m left with four: Luciano, Salvatore, Santino, and Cristiano. How can there still be four more men? I feel as if I’ve been taken by a horse and I’m not even through half of them yet. Luciano rounds the table; he’s next, I’m guessing, as Santino and Salvatore wait on each side of me. I don’t know if my vagina can take much more pounding at the moment. Surely I can come too many times that it’ll break or something, right?

  “I-I don’t get a break at all through this?” I mean shit, they aren’t giving me any downtime from my orgasms or anything. “Not even to rehydrate?” I’m too exhausted to fight them at this point. They should let me rest if even for a moment. Or is this what they wanted—a pliant, exhausted Violet, too tired to put up a fight against these finely sculpted Italians? Once again they’ve confirmed I’m unable to read them.

  Matteo scoffs, the arrogant prick. “A break, mia fiore, really?”

  I don’t have to see his face to know he’s got the smug expression he’s always wearing on his face. With his nose tipped up just a touch—entitlement perhaps, or is it because he’s earned the position to look down on other men? His brows will be raised and those luscious, sculpted lips will be turned slightly down at the corners. Even when chastising, he looks breathtaking. Nope, I don’t have to look even a little bit; I have his image resolutely implanted in my mind.

  I try again to plead my case. “I’d like to use the restroom. It also wouldn’t hurt you to offer me a drink, preferably a strong one, at that.”

  He snaps his fingers and Cristiano’s by my side almost immediately. Opening a bottle of water, he carefully tilts my head, so I can take a few small sips of the cool beverage. It only makes me thirstier, though. The multiple orgasms have drained me of any energy, if I even had any left.

  I was woken up at four a.m. sharp, under my mother’s instruction so I could begin the wedding day preparations. I had no idea of the wedding before, either. My parents were not completely sure it would all go off without a hitch, so it was a full-fledged whirlwind attempt to get me ready enough today for my nuptials. I was kept in the dark before yesterday, and yet my mother was insistent that the ceremony today had to be picture perfect. It didn’t matter one bit that I’ve pretty much been in nonstop shock since we arrived yesterday. My own mother sabotaged me, not that it should surprise me.

  Sure, very few people knew about the betrothal and wedding, but none of that mattered to my mother. She said my wedding had to be flawless, because I was marrying the Capo dei capi, and that I had to steal his breath away and make everyone in the room envious of his new bride. The politics of this world are exhausting. I’m a nineteen-year-old new bride, marrying one of the most influential men in the country, and yet they want me to worry about making people jealous. It’s all a bit absurd if you ask me. He’s the Capo already. Who cares what anyone thinks of me?

  I just wanted to eat some macaroni and cheese and binge on rom-coms all day. Instead, I’ve married a beautiful monster. Matteo’s so unbelievably mesmerizing to look at, but when he opens his mouth, he’s one hundred percent big headed Italian asshole. I’m pretty sure I’d built him up in my head from that night in the club as well, so that didn’t help. Here I was fantasizing of his face night after night, but in my fantasies he was my prince charming, riding in to steal me away to a life of love and passion. He’s more like the grim reaper, determined to own my life and bend me to his will. Hopefully, he doesn’t kill me as well.

  How could my parents be so heartless to destine me to this monster? They didn’t even think to warn me of the man I was going to be spending the rest of my life with, no matter how short that may end up being. If they could see me now, being ravished by seven men, would they feel even an ounce of compassion or regret then? Or would they chalk it up to “the good of the Bottaro family?”

  “Free her wrists and ankles so she may use the restroom,” the Capo himself commands, and like perfect toy soldiers, Santino and Luciano follow his orders dutifully. Thankfully, I’m smart enough not to snort aloud or they may string me up again.

  I attempt to move but remain stationary. My body has been tuned to gelatin. I’d been yanked and stretched, jerked and twisted so much that I’d completely worn out what small muscles I possess. Not to mention, I’ve barely gotten to eat or drink anything today and am practically on the verge of passing out at this point. I need the bathroom to splash water on my face, to catch my breath and gain my bearings...only I don’t believe I can even stand, let alone walk to the damn bathroom. I should curse my mother for not allowing me to eat when I woke up this morning, but I can’t bring myself to offer her any thought at the moment. I’m going to need all my concentration for the trip to the bathroom. I hope it’s not far.

  “Well then, move quickly. I don’t expect you to keep my brothers waiting long. This is your duty, after all. This is the Vendetti way; don’t fight us on it.”

  At his words I want to scream and claw his hair from his scalp. I can’t, but I want to.

  The brothers all take a step back, giving me some space, waiting for their turns. I am, after all, the Vendetti breeding cow now.

  “Mia fidanzata?” Cristiano asks, cocking his head. I have no idea what he called me, but the brother’s snicker while Matteo and Romano roll their eyes.

  Salvatore shakes his head. “She cannot be your fiancée, Cristiano. She’s married to Matty now.”

  Cristiano shrugs his muscular shoulders, unmoved by his brother’s words and cocks his head, watching me as he speaks to my husband. “Matteo, la fidanzata broken?”

  Yes, I am broken. I know that much is true.

  Matteo’s intense gaze on me morphs from annoyed to curious. I’d almost say it’s mixed with a bit of worry as well, but this is the almighty and powerful Ruthless Vendetti. I doubt he worries about anything. Luciano backs farther away as the Capo approaches. Cristiano’s head cocks to the side, the move making him appear more like Matteo’s own son rather than younger brother. I can’t believe I didn’t see the strong resemblance sooner, but it’s definitely there now that I’ve noticed it.

  My husband’s hand comes to my cheek, caressing softly; he slides his palm until the tips of his fingers to raise my chin up to stare into my eyes. “Are you unwell, mia moglie?”

  It’s the first touch of tenderness and compassion he’s shown me, and I’m stupid enough to feel myself begin to drown under his intensity. My heart kicks up again, the beat quickening from a mere sweet gaze from the man of my fantasies. Just a touch of affection, and I’m ready to wave the white flag, giving the man whatever he demands of me. How is it that a man can have so much control over another human?

  My mouth parts, ready to admit to him that I cannot stand, let alone walk, and my vision grows hazy. His image blurs, everything darkening...the last thing I hear is him shouting my name, “Violet, Violet, mia Violetta!”

  And then there’s nothing, just blackness mixed with silence. Zero stress, and most of all, no imposing men surrounding me. I can finally relax my overtired muscles and not worry about a thing.

  I was careless with Violet. She’s the first woman to be p
ut under my protection as the Capo, and she’s already been taken advantage of. The worst part was that it was me and the Vendetti tradition that did it to her. I should’ve checked on my new wife throughout the day and actually paid close enough attention to know that her mother kept her from eating or drinking anything. How often does this sort of thing occur with Violet and her mother? My father was cruel in his ways, but we never went hungry.

  “I should’ve waited and given her a chance to settle in, and then maybe this all could’ve been avoided.” I bite out in frustration. Could’ve, should’ve, and would’ve scenarios play out in my mind, but they’re all useless. What is done is done, and I’m to blame for it.

  “Nonsense,” Romano disagrees, immediately discarding any responsibility placed on the Vendetti name. “The tradition is always carried out on the wedding night; it’s our custom. You heard Dr. Beneventi earlier. He says she’s malnourished and you had no way of knowing that.”

  “Hmm. I also heard him declare that she was under duress and it was the added stress that was the last straw to make her pass out with exhaustion. I could’ve avoided all of this, had I not been so selfish and blindsided by everything.”

  “You are the Capo dei capi; it is expected for you to be selfish.”

  But I don’t want to be that way when it comes to her. Sure in some aspects I do...like keeping her to myself so no one can ever do any type of harm to her. It doesn’t mean, however, I would deem my selfishness to a level that’d have me looking the other way regarding her health and well-being. If anything, it’d have me acting even more overbearing. This woman’s in for a hell of a change, that’s for certain.

  “Mr. Vendetti,” Dr. Beneventi strides into the hallway and both my father and I stand up to offer the doctor our attention. We’d been discussing everything that happened in the small sitting area outside Violet’s suite while I’d not-so-patiently pretended to wait since she collapsed.

  “Uh,” the man stammers glancing to my father. “Not you, sir; the other Mr. Vendetti.” He clears his throat and gestures to me, uneasiness in his gaze. Everyone’s terrified of Romano; they’re used to him being in charge and being quite merciless.

  “What is it, Luca?” I interrupt before my father can utter a retort about being in charge. He’s not any longer and he needs to be shown right away that I can handle this, amongst other issues.

  The older man pats his palms against the sides of his slacks, a telltale sign that he’s nervous. “You’d asked me to let you know when she was awake.” He gestures to the room behind him. “I gave her a brief summary about her losing consciousness and that I’d hooked her up to a saline drip, amongst the dosage of antibiotics and vitamins I’d injected her with while she slept. She agreed to the protein drink, the one I’d requested from you for her earlier. I’m having her take small sips now, and she knows not to have too much if she begins to feel queasy. We don’t want her expelling any bit of nutrition we get in her body.”

  I move to pass him and he steps to the side, effectively putting him directly in my path. Dumb move on his part; I’ve killed men for being in my way. My brow hikes and the doctor’s mouth moves to speak but nothing comes out. Sweat drips from his brow, his hands move from patting his pants to trembling as he digs a handkerchief free to dab the perspiration away.

  “F-fo-forgive me Capo dei Capi Vendetti.” His gaze falls to my feet, showing his respect and his submission.

  My other eyebrow rises as well, impatient for him to stop wasting my time. “My wife, doctor.”

  “Yes, just please...” I can tell it’s taking everything in him to stand here and not piss himself in fear. “If I may suggest that you do not put her under any added duress. The young lady will be on the mend quickly with decent nutritional options and without unnecessary pressure.”

  Did she tell him what we were in the middle of? Does he know we were taking turns teasing and fucking her?

  “Are you implying something?”

  “N-no sir. Just following protocol and making sure you’re aware.”

  “Noted. Now, Luca?”

  “Yes, Mr. Vendetti, sir?”

  “Get the hell out of my way.”

  “Yes sir, of course, Capo.” He nods and dutifully moves to the side, anxiously glancing between myself and Romano.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I twist the knob to Violet’s room and exhale as I step over the threshold. The area is dim, her entire room shadowed, making me feel as if I need to be quiet like she may be sleeping again. I know she’s awake; the doctor just told me, yet I still can’t help but to keep my steps light as I make my way toward the oversized canopy bed.

  I can’t help but wonder with each step if she’s come to hate me even more than before...

  Yesterday while mia fiore was distracted, I’d had Violet’s mother let the staff know what her favorite colors are, and they’d worked all day today during the ceremony and reception to get her room redecorated to better suit her. She doesn’t even get to enjoy the small surprise I’d had planned for her. I assumed after being with my brothers and me that this would be a small token toward her and she’d seek refuge here to rest when we weren’t keeping her busy.

  My wife comes into view and Violet’s no longer drinking the protein shake the doctor gave her. Her eyes are closed and she’s covered to her chin with the fluffy bright yellow down comforter. She seems so small and frail in the middle of the king mattress. I’d never have guessed her favorite color was sunshine yellow. She struck me as the type to like black or purple, but that’s neither here nor there. The fact is glaringly obvious as I take her form in; she’s tiny, especially compared to my brothers and me. We were too rough with her. she’s fragile, and we always must keep that in mind. It’s far too easy to forget as she has a fire inside that easily makes her seem so much bigger and stronger—a worthy opponent.

  As I come to the side of the bed and gaze down, I take in her features. She’s so peaceful like this, nothing like before in the exam room. She was fierce in there, fighting and mouthing off as if she were strong. She had us fooled, but I see her now. I thought I’d have to break her, but my flower’s already broken. She has much to share with me. I’m sure that will take time; Violet’s not too trusting—a quality I’m familiar with. In this life, you can’t be or else you’ll end up with your throat slit and stuffed in a random freezer.

  Her lashes flutter as her lids part, offering me a glimpse of those beautiful irises. She says nothing, only watches me as I take a seat by her side. I move slowly, careful not to jostle her too much. The tip of her pink tongue darts out, wetting her bottom lip.

  “Are you thirsty?” I nearly whisper, my voice gruff with emotion I’m not used to feeling toward a woman. If she was falling asleep I don’t want to rattle her right away, peppering her with health questions. Violet’s my wife, and it’s my duty to take care of her in sickness and in health.

  She shakes her head and I find myself chewing on the inside of my lip. I don’t know how to fix things; usually I just break them and get rid of them. What am I supposed to do to help her? I want her to yell at me like she did before, rain her fists against my chest and tell me how much she hates me. That I can deal with. Her tired gaze falls to my lap and immediately I find myself reaching out to her. Cupping her cheek, I ask, “What do you need? What can I do?”

  She blinks, once, twice, a third time before quietly responding. “Will you lay with me?”

  It’s far from what I was expecting her to say, so I nod. My throat’s feeling uncomfortably parched at her request as I get to my feet, loosening the plain black tie still in place from our wedding ceremony yesterday. Or was it merely this morning? I swear it feels as if it were days ago with all the worry from her passing out and the day dragging on through the ceremonial events. The knot comes free and I carefully lay my tie over the plush, dove grey suede sofa at the end of the bed. Next, my fingers make quick work of the small buttons on my dress shirt, my gaze never strayin
g from hers.

  She peers over at me with enough fascination that I can’t help but find it a bit intriguing. I wonder if she’s never had a man undress before her as I am. The thought has my stomach clenching with an uncommon bout of jealousy. The poisonous emotion dutifully works to claw free, so I quickly choke it away and focus on slipping my leather shoes off. They’re tucked neatly against the couch as I reach for my matching belt’s buckle.

  She draws in a quick breath at the latch coming free and immediately my lips turn up into a smirk. I can’t help that her anxiety does something to my insides. I’m a bastard for reveling in it. “Relax mia fiore; I do not plan to lick and fuck you tonight. I simply don’t sleep in clothes.”

  I’ll leave my boxer briefs and white T-shirt on tonight, for her sake. If I remove them as well, I’m afraid I may take advantage of her wifely duties and I’ve already pushed her far enough for one day. I’m not sure I’ll ever have my fill of her warm, sweet, tight cunt though. The need to impregnate her rides heavily through my veins, my seed ready to burst into her at a moment’s notice.

  Exhaling, I continue my task of folding my shirt and pants; I place them next to my tie uniformly. Even as a grown man I still make sure everything’s nice and neat. We were never messy children. Our father would’ve had us each whipped until we couldn’t be anything but well-ordered. I, however, don’t plan to put my own children through the same treatment. Will I be strict on them? Of course, you have to, if you want them to flourish in the Empire; it’s the Vendetti life.

  Making my way to the opposite side, I pull back the fluffy down and climb into the bed next to her. The cool sheets hit my skin and my new wife appears even frailer like this, against her soft pale sheets. How can she tempt me looking so weak and helpless? Something is seriously fucked in my head if seeing her so helpless makes me desire her even more. I need a strong female, one that will have my back and not be afraid to shoot, should a threat appear. I don’t need a woman like this; so young, so inexperienced, so useless. Yet, I find myself yearning to draw her to me, wanting to shield her from anything bad out in the world.