by Ella Miles
I’m stoic. I don’t move. I act like he is shaking my hand, nothing more.
He exhales as his eyes roll back in his head like my reaction is turning him on. “I’m going to enjoy this far too much.”
My lips frown before I have a chance to stop them.
His thumb glides up over my lips, and I try to bite him, but he pulls his fingers away before I have the opportunity to.
“I can’t believe Matteo hasn’t touched you yet. It seems like such a waste.”
“He has touched me,” I say, hoping if I can convince him Matteo has already had a turn with me, he will lose interest. I doubt it will work, since I already told him he hasn’t touched me, but I have to try.
Armas is right, though, about me being lucky so far. I don’t fully understand why Matteo hasn’t raped me or beat me yet.
His hands move back down to my shirt and rip it in two, revealing my bare breasts. His eyes burn into my plump breasts, before he bends down and takes my nipple into his mouth.
I cry out, and my back tries to sink into the bed, away from his sharp teeth, as he nibbles harshly on my nipple.
“No, he hasn’t touched you. No man has been with you for weeks. If Matteo had touched you, you would already be broken. You’re the opposite of lost. You are more alive than any woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of tying up in my bed.
“But don’t worry, the hope you feel deep in your belly will soon be gone. I’ll shred every bit of attachment you have to this world until you are begging me to die, only then will I return you to Matteo.”
He’s going to keep me alive. That’s the only words I focus on. He doesn’t want to kill. He can’t kill me, or Matteo would kill him.
Matteo still thinks that he can crack me and convince me to tell him where Nina is. I’m beginning to believe that Armas might be part of that plan. Once he’s done with me, he’s right though, I’ll be begging for death, and I’ll give Matteo whatever he wants.
Blood pours out of my lip, into my mouth, as I bite down on my lip while Armas takes my nipple in between his teeth again. He’s cruel, treating me like an object that he can do what he pleases with.
He removes his shirt to reveal his muscular body. He has a fit body, but it’s nothing like Matteo’s. I close my eyes, hating myself for comparing his body to Matteo’s. Both men are evil. The fact that they both have hot bodies is irrelevant. It doesn’t make me want to fuck them.
Hands tighten around my neck so that I can’t breathe.
“Open your eyes.”
I try to hold out, but I need to breathe.
I open my eyes.
“Good girl.”
He stands back and pushes his pants and boxer briefs down. “Like what you see?”
I turn away in disgust.
“Look at me bitch,” he says, as his hand grabs my neck again, forcing my head to turn back to him.
He smirks. “You like my body. Your pussy is begging to feel a man again.”
He’s insane. There is no way I could feel anything positive about this man, not even lust. My leg is shattered thanks to him. My body is tied up, and he’s about to rape me against my will.
I spit in his face. His hand crashes against my face. He doesn’t slap me like I was expecting. His fist was tightly balled as he punched me.
Dots. All I can see are black spots, no matter if my eyes are open or closed. My head throbs so severely that I don’t want to move it. I don’t even want to think.
His hands are at my pants, and my body trembles, as he rips my pants off.
I’m naked. Exposed. I’ve never felt so vulnerable in my life. Not even when Matteo kidnapped me. This man is going to rape me. Nothing is stopping him.
I try to squeeze my legs together, but his hands grip my thighs, pushing me wide, while his body settles in between my legs. I can feel the head of his erection pushing at my entrance, and a tear trickles down my cheek.
My arms thrash against the restraints, but I’m tied up so tightly that I can only wiggle them an inch.
My body tries to twist away from him, but his hand crashes down on my chest, putting his entire body weight on my chest.
I can’t breathe. I try to move my lungs up and down to let air in, but I can’t. His hand is pressing down too hard.
I stop moving. I stop trying.
Only then does he let his hands up enough so that a little air pushes into my lungs.
I don’t want the air anymore. I want to stop breathing, stop living. I won’t survive this.
No.
He doesn’t get to win.
I will survive this.
My eyes fly open. He’s going to have to look me in the eye when he rapes me. He’s going to see the anger that he’s causing instead of the pain. He’ll see the rage that he created, and he’ll know that I will spend the rest of my life coming after him. That I won’t let him rest until I’ve hurt him like he’s hurt me, and then I’ll kill him.
I swear I see a bit of hesitation and fear in his eyes when he sees the fire in mine when I open them, but it’s probably my imagination.
I need him to fear me to get through this. I need to fight him. And if I can’t do that with my body, I will with my eyes. I’ll let him know what’s coming to him when I get out of these restraints. Matteo used to be my number one target, but now it’s Armas.
His head drops, and he slobbers down my neck. It’s because he can’t look me in the eyes, the coward.
He thrusts his cock inside me with his face still buried in my neck. It’s probably a good thing that he’s not looking at me though, because I can’t stay strong now that his cock is inside me. My eyes water and I close them to keep the tears in.
He groans as he sinks deeper, while tears burn my eyes.
He won.
I may eventually get free and kill him, but right now, he won.
“You’re mine, bitch. You’re nothing but a slave. You’re going to spend the rest of your week tied to my bed so that I can come fuck you whenever I want. You are going to be black and blue. By the end of the week, your body will be begging for my cock.”
His cock thrust in and out of me and my insides burn, my stomach aches, and vile shoots up my throat.
I hate him.
I hate him more than all the criminals I’ve locked up. Armas is the worst. I will make him pay for what he’s doing to me.
My eyes gloss over as I try to pretend I’m anywhere but here. I try to imagine myself in the courtroom. My brain won’t go there though.
I try to imagine I’m on a beach, the warm saltwater stinging my eyes, and that’s why they cry. But my mind knows it isn’t real.
I try to imagine Nina. I pretend we are back in college and are about to head out for a night of drinking and hitting on boys. But it only makes the tears come faster, because if I can’t save myself, how am I going to protect Nina?
My mind goes to Matteo. His dark locks, his intense gaze, his sculpted body. I want to blame him for this. If he hadn’t stolen me, then I wouldn’t be here getting raped.
But I don’t hold him responsible. Because going back to him is going to feel like a sanctuary compared to where I am right now.
8
Matteo
It was a false alarm.
The men thought they were being set up and about to be ambushed. But they weren’t. Instead, the client they were delivering weapons to changed the location and snuck up on them to try to keep their secrecy.
I had a stern talking with the client to let him know we won’t be working with him again. We set the rules, not him. He doesn’t get to change the location of the drop. We do. What he did was unacceptable and put everyone at risk.
We have been under attack numerous times lately. It’s put everyone on edge. I know it’s Clive and Erick behind the attacks.
They are still upset about us taking Nina from them. And they are testing me. I’m the new leader of the Carini family, and they want to find out what they can and can’t get away with. They are t
rying to push me and take over some of my turf.
I won’t let them. Soon, they will find out I’m more ruthless than my father when it comes to protecting my own. I will need to go on the offensive to prove it to them and end this nonsense.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, as I walk back from the wooded area to where my car is parked along the street.
“Yes,” I answer, snapping harder than I mean to. I’m in a foul mood. I don’t know what to do with Eden and having to deal with this idiot only made my temper worse.
“Sorry to bother you, sir. I wanted to let you know we saw Armas drive Eden off the grounds and I thought you’d like to be aware.”
I growl.
“How could you let this happen?”
He doesn’t answer. I already know how. I left one guard, and I’ve threatened them all with their lives when only one guard is on duty to never leave the premises if a Carini is still in the house. Gia must be home. She needs protection. It’s my fault for calling my men here to defend our turf, without leaving more behind to protect what’s mine.
I end the call, shove the phone back into my pocket, and I run to my car. I hop in, speeding off as my wheels squeal against the pavement.
Thoughts of what Armas could be doing to Eden right now cloud my head. His lips on hers. His dick inside her tight cunt, making her cry out while he breaks her.
All the things I wanted to do to her and barely got a taste of. Things that I could never entirely go through with myself.
I thought it was what I wanted. I couldn’t break Eden myself so why not let Armas do the dirty work? But now that it is happening, it’s not what I want.
And I need to teach him a lesson for thinking he could take what’s mine off my property. He knows I’m going to retaliate for breaking my rules.
I’m not far from his house. Assuming that’s where Armas has taken Eden. Maybe I can save her before anything happens.
I press my foot down all the way on the gas, my car speeds up, and I hit the apex of each of the turns that weave through the woods. I shouldn’t drive so fast, not on these roads. But I push my limits to get to his house faster.
Ten minutes. That’s how long it takes me, when usually it would take more than twenty. The gate to Armas’s property is closed, but it’s nothing my car can’t handle.
I rev the engine, going full speed again, breaking the flimsy lock on the gate as my car bursts through it. I don’t stop until my car is right outside the side door leading into the house.
I jump out of the car and draw my gun. Armas doesn’t deal with weapons or anything illegal, but he has security guards who wouldn’t have any difficulty shooting me. I didn’t bring any backup of my own. I considered it, but I don’t need the help. And I don’t want any witnesses for what I decide to do Armas. My men have no problem with torture or killing, but they may give my actions pause when it comes to innocent rich men who could have been their boss instead of me.
“Sir, Armas is busy at the moment. If you’d like to come back later, I’ll let him know you came by,” one of his security guards says, coming outside.
God, he needs to train his men better. You shoot first, ask questions later.
He didn’t notice my gun yet, so I let it hang in my hand casually to my side.
I smile as I walk up to him like I want to give him a message to deliver to Armas. When I’m a foot away, I draw my gun again aiming it at his head.
He puts his hands up in surrender.
I shake my head. Idiot.
“Where is Eden?”
“Who?”
“Don’t act dumb. Where is Eden? The woman Armas stole from me this morning. I know he brought her here.”
The man stares down at my gun like he’s never had a gun aimed at him before.
I roll my eyes. You never hire someone who hasn’t at the very least had a gun aimed at them. Preferably you want someone who has been shot before. That way you know they understand the risks and are adequately trained.
I see another man step out, out of the corner of my eye. I shoot him in the chest without a second thought. The man drops to the floor.
“How many other guards does Armas have?”
The man’s eyes cut to the man lying lifeless on the floor behind him. “It’s just the two of us.”
“Don’t lie to me or I’ll kill you, like I did him.”
The man swallows. “I’m not lying.”
“Good. Now, where is Eden?”
He glances up. “She’s upstairs in Armas’ bedroom. It’s the third bedroom on the left.”
I smirk. “Good boy.” I strike him hard in the head with the end of my gun. His body falls to the floor as I race inside. I cough on the intense flowery smell when I enter his house. If he doesn’t rape her, he’s going to smother her to death with the scent of roses.
I take the stairs two at a time as I climb up the grand staircase. The staircase swerves, taking up most of the space in the entryway. It’s meant to be magnificent, the centerpiece of the room, but I have three staircases that trump this one in size and stature.
I get to the top of the stairs and intently listen as I slink down the hallway as quietly as I can. I don’t want Armas to know I’m here until I want him to know.
I don’t hear anything as I walk down the hallway counting the doors as I go.
One.
Two.
Three.
I grab the doorknob as I lean against the door listening.
Nothing.
I draw my gun ready to kill in a second if I need to.
I push the door open. The room is dark, I flick on the lights, but I already know what I’m going to find. Nothing. It’s empty.
The bastard lied to me. I should have killed him.
Eden screams.
I turn and run toward her screams. The fourth door. I kick the door open without thinking about anything other than getting to Eden as fast as possible.
Armas is on top of Eden when I enter the room. He doesn’t even turn his head to me. Either because he didn’t hear me enter, or because he believes I’m a member of his staff, who is coming to check on him and will quickly leave.
My eyes go to Eden. All I can see though are her arms and legs tied to the bed. Her screams and cries pierce my heart, begging me to protect her.
I respond, running to the bed without thinking. I may not be any better than Armas is, but if anyone is going to lay a hand on her, it’s going to be me.
Stowing my gun in my waistband, I grab Armas by the neck and fling him against the far wall as easily as I would tossing a ball. I’m much stronger than he is, and in my pent up state, he’s not a match for me at all.
Anger.
Rage.
Pain.
The emotions alight deep in my belly and spread like fire through my entire body when I see Eden. I’ve never been so mad in all my life. I’ve never felt such rage. My body is red, my arms shake, unable to keep my frustration inside.
Eden is tied to the bed by her arms and legs with shackles to the frame of the bed designed with loops to attach rope or chains. It’s clear Armas has done this to women before.
She’s naked. Nothing I haven’t already seen plenty of times before, but seeing her now makes me ache, my cock throbs against the zipper of my jeans. It makes me want to finish the job that I didn’t get to finish.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a woman. Months. Usually, it isn’t a problem, but when I look at her body, I’m tempted to pull out my cock and fuck her right here, right now.
Her eyes look straight at me, but she doesn’t react. She doesn’t think this is real. She thinks she’s dreaming I came and saved her. She must have been desperate to get away from Armas to be fantasizing about me protecting her.
I expect her to look broken, lost, gone. But her eyes don’t show that. She still has hope and fight. Her body doesn’t seem beaten, other than some redness on her breasts. He’s barely fucked her or touched her. No more than I did before.
My eyes continue to inspect her body until I see her leg.
Her entire leg is red and swollen with black and blue bruises all up and down it. But the coloring isn’t what has me concerned. There is a large gash on the top of her shin still actively bleeding and filled with dirt and debris. It looks bad. Most likely broken.
Red. It’s all I see and feel as I turn from Eden to Armas, who is smirking at me in the corner of the room. He slowly gets to his feet, wiping the blood off his forehead. I must have caused the blood when he I threw him across the room.
“Jealous much? I was having a taste and helping to break her in so she would be ready for you.” Armas continues to smirk as he stares at Eden on the bed.
“She wasn’t yours to touch.”
He cocks his head to the side as his eyes stay locked on Eden, looking at her like he wants to devour her.
“You left her with me. You gave me power to do what I pleased with her when you left. What is she to you that you would be this upset anyway? She’s only a slave.”
My fist pulls back and then makes contact, hard, with the side of his jaw. His face whips around and I can see redness forming where my fist hit him, but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough.
His eyes darken when he looks back at me, holding his face. He doesn’t dare try to fight me back. I’ve kicked his ass before, and I’ll kick it again.
“What the hell man?” he says.
“Eden’s mine.” My fist hits his face again, and this time it knocks him off balance enough so when I hit him again, he falls to the floor.
I can’t think of anything other than causing him as much agony as possible for what he did to Eden. He touched her. Raped her. And broke her fucking leg. He doesn’t deserve to keep breathing.
I punch him again and again, each strike harder than the previous. He holds up his hands trying to block my punches at first, but eventually, his hands fall to the side as does his body.
I can’t stop though. I have to make Armas pay for what he did to Eden. I don’t understand why I feel this way. Eden is nothing to me but the key to getting Nina and Arlo back. But my stomach is in knots and my body filled with rage as I pound into his flesh over and over.
