Bad Boy: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance)

by Willow Winters

  She’s a smart girl though, and she’s read a lot of dirty books. She should know better.

  She had better know better.

  Catherine

  I’m fucking rocking like a crazy person. I could sit in the chair, but it’s tainted now. So instead I’m huddled in the corner rocking. It’s not because I’m crazy though. It’s because there isn’t a fucking thing to do, not a damn thing to do in this empty cell.

  I’ve walked around every inch of this room. Even though it’s dark, the cell’s not too dirty. I should know, since I’ve searched everywhere for a second door, or crack, or opening. Anything. I bet he watched me; in the books, they always watch. I even expect some kind of punishment for it, but I had to do it. I had to try.

  All the flashbacks keep coming forward, and I keep pushing them down. They make me weak. I can’t go back to that. He’s not one of them.

  “Come on, little mouse,” Lorenzo says as he parks his car in front of the restaurant.

  “I don’t want to.” I already told him I don’t want to, but he’s not listening.

  He has his dick out and he’s pushing me to go down on him here, but there are people everywhere. At first when we met, I was looking for that thrill. But we kept getting caught by his friends, and now they give me weird looks and make jokes that I don’t like.

  He moves faster than me, and it takes me by surprise. He fists my hair and yanks my head back. I scream out in pain and try to pry his hand off of me. “Stop, it hurts.” Tears prick my eyes. “It hurts!” I scream out.

  “Dumb bitch,” he says under his breath. “You know what you got yourself into. You fucking want it this way.” My heart sinks in my chest. I don’t want it, and especially not like this.

  “Suck it,” he says, releasing me while pushing my head forward. I look back at him with daggers in my eyes.

  “Fuck you,” I sneer at him, and wipe my eyes. He barks out a laugh.

  “Aw, little mouse. You don’t want to play?” I feel sick to my stomach. Things never used to be like this. When he's rough with me in bed now, it's different, too.

  “I said no.” I hate that I have to tell him twice.

  “Fine,” he says as he tucks himself back into his pants and I feel a small sense of relief.

  “Come here, you know I didn’t mean it.” He leans across the console to give me a kiss and I hesitate, but I lean in anyway. Because I’m a fucking idiot. Because I thought I just needed to make the lines clearer. Like it was my fault.

  That was right before I tried to leave him. I had no one else, and I was afraid to be alone. I was so desperate for his “love” that I stayed with that fucking creep far too long. Things only got worse after that. I remember the night I tried to sneak out and run away. Before I left, I looked down on his sleeping body and thought about slitting his throat. How awful of a person had I become where I thought I should kill him? Not fucking awful at all. That bastard deserved to die. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t lower myself to becoming a murderer, so instead I sneaked out through a window and hoped I could start over. Instead I fell right into a new world of hell.

  I hear them laugh as Lorenzo backhands me again. This time I fall. I learned to make it look real.

  When he was drunk that’s the game he played. How many hits until the mouse would fall? He liked his nickname for me even more after I saw what happened. He was daring me, taunting me to be a rat. If I stayed on the ground, he’d only kick me a few times. I learned to just stay curled on my side and wait for the beatings to be over, no matter how much he urged me to stand. He only made it worse if I obeyed him. Bruises gave way to broken bones, but by then, I had no way to leave. I was trapped and beaten regularly for his enjoyment. I barely escaped them. And I only managed because they were reckless. Their desires to cause me even more pain is what eventually gave me my out.

  They came into the room they kept me in. It’d only been a few days of being trapped there, feeling helpless and weak, trying to recover from the beating he gave me. The three of them came into the room and left the door wide open as they stalked to my bed. I knew what they were going to do. I rock harder, remembering the fear. I fucking bolted. I just kept thinking, Please don't let them catch me.

  They can never catch me. Never. I had to do everything I could to escape that hell. But I had no one. Not a single soul to run to. My mother was everyone and everything to me. But she’d been dead for nearly a year. I ran to her grave and prayed for a sign. That’s when the cops showed up, sirens blaring. I thanked my mom every day.

  I thought she’d saved me like she always did.

  But they did catch me.

  Only they didn’t come after me directly like I thought they would. They sent someone else.

  I have no clue how long it’s been. I don’t know what he’s doing. Or what this training is going to be like when he gets back. I have absolutely no control in any of it either, and I don’t like it. I tug at the hem of my nightgown, wishing it were longer so I could cover myself up more. My knees are drawn up to my chest, and I rest my head on them as I consider my next step.

  I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what my options are. He said he’d give me my life and everything I needed. I want to believe that’s true, but what's the catch? I know his intentions aren’t pure. And I’m certain his terms aren’t negotiable.

  I’m eager to hear what he has to say though. I want to know what I’ve gotten myself into. That way I can figure out how to get the fuck out of here.

  My back is killing me, so I keep up my rocking. It feels better than just sitting still for however fucking long it’s been. I’d get up and stretch or do yoga, but I don't want to be standing when he walks in. I want to be ready.

  Well, as ready as I can be.

  I close my eyes and remember his words. An office, my books. How much does he know about me? He’s been watching me, obviously. I wonder if there were signs I missed. Red flags I should have seen, but didn’t.

  The only time I ever felt that things were off was last night. That was the only chance I had. I should have gotten into my car and driven away. I should have listened to my gut.

  But I didn’t.

  I’ve never felt so fucking helpless. Not when I was with Lorenzo. Not when I was taken by those fucking Cassanos. Not even when I went to the police and they told me I’d have to leave my old life behind forever. Never. Because there was always hope. But now, I only have his word. And I don’t trust him.

  For all I know, he has a bet going with someone. How long would it take him to get into my pants willingly? And then boom. He’ll kill me. Or he’ll let someone else in here to have a go at me. How the fuck would I know? I don’t know shit. And it’s not like he’s offering up any information. He’s just playing this game with me.

  In all the books I’ve read, there’s been some sort of contract, or list. Terms. Like he said before.

  That always happens first.

  But he’s playing with me. Testing me. And as far as I’m concerned, he’s winning.

  My body betrayed me, and I gave into the weakness. I was practically ready to cum on his lap. If he’d flipped me over and put his mouth on my clit rather than whispering in my ear, shit. I don’t know what I would have done. I was so weak. So desperate.

  It’s pathetic. I’m pathetic.

  But what real choice do I have? I can fight his game, or I can play along. I can stay here and let him toy with me, or I can use him to get out of here.

  Use him.

  I like that idea. It almost makes the desire for him to touch me feel justified. That giving in and caving to his touch is alright. I’m merely playing into his hand because it’s what I have to do.

  As if hearing my thoughts, Anthony opens the door.

  My breath stills in my lungs as the loud click echoes off the walls.

  I make a promise to myself. I’ll do whatever I have to do to get the fuck out of this room. I need to see if I can trust his word at least.

  Ju
st as I make that promise to myself, I see what he’s pulling behind him. It’s a large bench with leather shackles. Fuck! Tears prick my eyes.

  I bury my head in my knees and just fucking cry. He’s going to chain me to the bench. He’s going to fuck me.

  A wretched sob heaves through my chest.

  I shake my head, and that’s when I hear his footsteps. But I don’t back away. I have no options. What choice do I have?

  Anthony

  I turn around as soon as I hear her crying.

  Fuck. I wanted to shock her, but I didn’t think she’d cry.

  She had so much fight in her when I left her. I don’t know what happened while I was gone. I know that being alone for hours can be torturous when you have nothing. No noise but the sounds you make, nothing to touch but yourself and the walls and floor.

  But I didn’t think it would affect her like this.

  “Kitten,” I begin as I crouch down next to her, although I keep my distance. She could be playing me for a fool. Waiting for me to comfort her so she can strike. I’m certain I picked up the large chunks of the plate. There were only three or four of them. But maybe she found a smaller piece and she’s planning to stab the shit out of me with it. She doesn’t trust me, and I sure as fuck don’t trust her.

  I didn’t watch her in the monitor. I was driving myself crazy watching her do nothing. More than anything seeing her like that pissed me off, because all I wanted to do was to go to her. But she’s being punished.

  This is a part of her punishment.

  “Yes, Anthony,” she answers in a strangled voice. She raises her head with tears staining her reddened cheeks. I’m surprised she answered. She wipes the tears from her face and I see she doesn’t have anything in her hands. She’s not armed, and she’s not trying to fight me. She’s just genuinely upset.

  “Why are you crying?” I ask her.

  “Because I give up. I’ll let you do whatever you want. I just want this to end.” My heart stops in my chest. That’s not at all what I expected, and so far she’s done everything I thought she would.

  I haven’t broken her yet. But maybe I've taken away her hope of getting out of here unless she obeys.

  “And that makes you sad?” I ask to clarify. “You’re upset that you’re giving me control?” Truthfully though, she never had any control. Maybe over her own actions, but not at all over the situation. She’s a strong woman. I guess that very realization could be troubling her.

  She takes in a small gasp and shakes her head. “Of course I’m upset about that. Normal people don’t do this.”

  Although I appreciate her honesty, that fucking attitude is going to be the first thing I correct.

  “Watch your mouth, kitten.” She looks up at me with nothing in her eyes.

  “Yes, Anthony. I’m sorry, sir.” She says the words without a hint of sarcasm in her voice. And it’s disappointing. I’m surprised by my reaction to it.

  “Could I know the terms, please? Before you chain me?” she asks in a flat voice. It’s unsettling how much I don’t like it.

  “No.” I watch her as I answer sternly. She merely nods her head slowly, as if she figured I wouldn’t tell her anything.

  “Okay.” Her voice is small and she’s finished crying. She sniffles once and nods her head again. “I’m ready.”

  I was foolish to think that this behavior didn't indicate her inner strength. She’s resigning herself to a fate she doesn’t want so that she can move forward. That in and of itself is strong. I feel my tense muscles relax now that I understand.

  I grip her chin with my thumb and forefinger and make her look me in the eyes.

  “You won’t regret this, Catherine. I promise you.” As I say the words with confidence, I remember Vince and the Cassanos, and I fucking hate myself for thinking of them right now. I won’t let them take her. And I won’t let her regret this either.

  “I’m going to put you on the bench, and I want you to hold onto the straps.” She nods her head and then whispers, “Yes, Anthony.”

  “Once you agree to the terms, and only then, I’ll bind your wrists.”

  She closes her eyes and I can see her pride leave completely as shame overwhelms her. I knew this would happen. But I still don’t like it. This isn’t the part of this relationship that I looked forward to. But the next part, the part where she learns she can trust me and that it’s not the nightmare she perceives it to be? That part will be worth all of this.

  “Up, kitten.” I stand up and hold a hand out for her. She starts to get up on her own, but then she sees my hand. She looks dejected and depressed. That’s exactly what she is. Depressed that she’s given in to me. But I’m going change that. I’m going to make her love giving in to me.

  I walk her over to the bench and help her on. I fucking love this idea. It’s meant for spanking and fucking, and I intend to do both in time. But for now, that’s not what we’re going do. I lay her down so that her chest is flat against the lowered part and her ass is in the air. Her eyes are focused on the leather binds.

  I take one strap out and hold it for her to take. “Go on, kitten. It won’t magically wrap around your wrist.” Again her eyes meet mine and I see a spark of the smart-mouthed woman from this morning. But it’s only a dim flicker of defiance, and she takes the leather without much hesitation. She does the same with the right without my help. She lays her head and body flat with her legs and hand off the side. She waits for my next command with her pussy almost fully bared to me, covered only by a thin layer of fabric.

  She’s perfect like this, vulnerable and waiting for me. But she’s obviously unhappy and only doing it because the other choice isn't really a choice at all. I splay my hand on her back, and although she stiffens, she doesn’t move away from my touch. I walk around her slowly, moving my hand in soothing circles until she slowly relaxes her body.

  I keep my voice soft and comforting. “The terms are simple. You do your best to obey me. If you don’t, you come back here.” Her eyes close as I speak. “If you please me, I will reward you. I will give you everything you need. You want your old life, and you can have it.” Her eyes fly to mine, but before she can question me I add, “I will simply be a new constant in that life.” Her eyes fall to the floor and then close again.

  She whispers, “Yes, Anthony. I understand.” That was too easy.

  “You don’t have any questions?” I’m surprised by that.

  “What questions should I ask?” My dick finally starts hardening. Her submission is just now starting to arouse me.

  “Any questions you have, kitten. I’ll answer them all truthfully.”

  “If I do this, you’ll let me out of this room? You said I’d have an office and my old life back?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “I’ll be able to keep working?” she asks.

  “You will,” I reply. I walk around to where her head is and place my hand on her chin to make sure she sees my face and knows how serious I am. “It will be heavily monitored though. And any sign that you’ve disobeyed me by doing anything at all that would obviously upset me will result in you being sent here. And not just for a few hours, kitten.”

  She nods her head and says, “I understand.”

  “Anything else?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “No.”

  “You don’t want to know what I’m going to do with you?” I ask. I imagine she’s already made up her mind.

  “You’re going to do what you’d like to me.” Her voice is flat, but dampened by sadness.

  “Close,” I answer. “I’d love to fuck you, kitten. But I’ve told you I won’t do that until you beg.” Her head lifts slightly off the bench and her eyes widen with hope. That’s the woman I want with me. Her reaction makes me smile.

  “You thought I was going to fuck you right now?” I ask her.

  “Yes,” she answers with a tinge of confusion.

  “I told you I wasn’t going to until you begged. I mean it,” I say.


  “Do I have to let you do that in order to get out of here?” she asks.

  “No,” I answer, and love how much her body relaxes at my answer. I love it because she’s showing trust in my words. I’m giving her hope and her strength back. Even if she doesn’t realize that.

  “Will I ever have to…?” she starts to ask, but trails off. My eyebrows raise and I lay a hand on the small of her back.

  “I want to reward you as a dom should reward his submissive.” I let my hands travel to her ass. I cup her cheeks and spread them slightly. “I’ll let you know if I’d like to be pleasured. But it’ll be your choice if you’d like to give me that.” I let my thumbs skim along the seam in the center of her panties.

  “I do want to reward you, kitten. Do you know what that means?” I ask.

  She nods her head, seeming very much at ease with the knowledge I’ve given her.

  “Tell me what you think it means.”

  It takes her a moment to respond, but when she does, I’m pleased. “It’s what you were doing earlier.”

  I smile at her backside as my fingers slip past her panties. I run them along her slick heat and I’m rewarded with a soft moan.

  “You rubbed my clit,” she says as she continues her answer.

  “Why?” I ask as I gently place her panties back where they belong.

  “To reward me,” she says.

  “What was I rewarding?” I ask her. I’m sure she’ll say it’s because she was listening to me. Or because she did as she was told. But in actuality it’s because she was enjoying it. I rewarded her desire for my control to continue. I’m intentionally conditioning her reactions and her emotions.

  “Because I listened to you and obeyed. Because I earned it.” She adds the last part forcefully. I smirk behind her. That’s how that dirty book went about it. You obey, and you get rewarded. Disobey, and you get punished.

  I agree to an extent, but emotions are far more powerful a tool. She’ll thrive with my touch. She’ll love my control. And it’ll only bring her happiness.