"Boss, I'm sorry, I thought I was helping you, I swear." The man replied, really repentant of his actions.
Jordan snorted and walked out of the house.
"Jordan! My plane isn’t here. Remember you can't fly yours all the way to New York, there's no registry of your entrance." Marcus ran after him, stopping him. "I already called my plane but it will take him an hour to get here."
"Damn… this can't be happening."
"Besides, you need to take care of that arm and change clothes." Marcus advised.
"Stop babysitting me and call Ivan." Jordan growled.
"I'm trying, but he's not answering."
"Call one of his men. Call his mother… I don’t care who you call, just get him to stop." He ran his fingers through his hair, desperate. "Do you have any idea of how he trains his slaves?"
"Jordan, this is useless. You're not doing yourself any good imagining the worst scenarios. Please, go get yourself cleaned up while the plane gets here."
Jordan sighed, but decided to follow his friend's advice and stomped off to his room. But he just couldn’t stop thinking about all she might be going through. He already had made her go through hell, ever since she had fallen in his hands, and now this. She would never forgive him, and he couldn’t blame her.
After taking a shower, he put on some antibiotic ointment over his wound and wrapped a bandage around, as best as he could. He put on clean clothes and decided to go wait for the plane on the landing track.
When he returned to the living room, Wilson had also changed clothes and cleaned up his face. "Boss, I want to go with you." He asked, his face somber.
"No. I don’t want you near her again." Jordan answered, cutting.
"Please, boss, let me help you get her back. I know that I screwed up, but I really didn’t mean to hurt you." The man insisted, twisting his hands, admitting his nervousness.
"I should throw your poor ass out in the streets, that's what I should do. The only reason I'm not doing it, it's because I believe you were trying to help me." Jordan stated, his face showing all his pain and anger. "But I don’t want you near her."
"Boss, I need to convince you that it was all my doing." Wilson insisted.
"Just take him with you. He's been whimpering ever since you left him on the floor." Marcus meddled as he walked in. "I still haven’t been able to contact Ivan." He handed Jordan a piece of paper. "Here are his address’ in New York and the ones of his closest men, as well as their phone numbers. I'll keep trying to reach him."
"Thank you."
"My plane is about to land in a small, private airport, nearby. You'll be able to departure from there, and reach the airport Ivan always uses."
"Let me know as soon as you have news. I hope to be back as soon as possible." Jordan told his friend. "Do me a favor and called my father and explain what happened. Let him know I'll call him as soon as possible."
"Sure thing. The bodies must have arrived in Caracas by now."
"Exactly. See you soon." He left the room without looking at Wilson, but knowing he was going to follow him. Maybe it would be for the best. He might need some help to retrieve Ashley back from the Russian. He had never been ok with the slavery branch of the businesses, but he hadn’t been able to convince the other members of his point of view. He had to admit most women Ivan traded had put themselves in those circumstances, through unpayable loans, stealing from the cartel, or dating scum that ended up selling them, but he still hated that. His threats to Ashley, had been just that, threats, he would have never sold her to a slaver. Never. And despite his intentions, she had ended up in the hands of one.
In less than an hour they were flying north to New York, and though the flight wasn’t that long, he felt it had lasted ages.
Chapter 13
In the plane, the man, Ivan, put her on a seat and buckled her seatbelt, keeping her with her hands cuffed behind her back. They left as soon as they were seated, and Ashley closed her eyes, trying to hold back the tears, afraid of her future, wanting to die more than anything, but knowing he wouldn’t allow her to die, like he said, dead she was worth nothing.
"Tell me about you." The order came from the seat across from her, and she startled when she heard him, but kept her head down, her eyes closed and her mouth shut. Maybe if she made him lose his patience he would go too far and kill her.
He waited for a few seconds, before getting up and grabbing her chin, tight. "My patience is endless, and defying me will only bring more pain to you. In the end, you'll do what I ordered you too, so you should reconsider your options.
Ashley sobbed but kept silence. He squeezed her chin harder and for a moment she thought he was going to break it, the pain so strong. "Tell me about you." He ordered again, his tone as stoic as ever.
"What do you want to know?" she stammered, her body quivering under the pain.
He dropped her chin and sat back on his seat. "See, that's more like it. What's your name?"
"Ashley Perez." She answered, in a faint voice.
"What did you do to get yourself in this situation?" he asked.
"I didn’t do anything. Fate put me in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I witnessed one of Jordan's drug deals." She explained, feeling too tired all of a sudden.
"I see. He kept you with him for a while?"
"Yes, he made me his fuck toy, until he got tired." She answered, letting all her pain and bitterness ooze out of every word.
"Becoming a slave won't be much different." He stated and she looked at him, fire and rage shining in her eyes.
"Maybe you should become a slave first, before stating things like that." She hissed.
He smiled, probably the first real smile she had ever seen on his face, transforming the cruel devil into a human being. But she shook her head, knowing that was only a mirage. She was sure there was very little left of the human being in him.
"So, there's a feisty spirit hidden somewhere in you." He said, obviously pleased. "I'll have a good time training you, I'm sure of that."
She snorted and looked away.
"Do you have any family left?" he asked, breaking the silence established between them.
"No." she had no intention of talking about her mother, and how she had lost her.
"That's even better, no one looking for you. Not that they would ever be able to find you." She looked at him and asked herself what could possibly make a person so cold, so cruel, capable of trading people's lives for money, not caring for the harm he was causing.
She looked out the window, wishing he would leave her in peace for the rest of the trip. Soon, he would have plenty of time to torture her, break her and mold her into the fucking doll he wanted.
Maybe he understood, or simply didn’t have any more questions, but he let her be for the rest of the flight.
Ashley struggled to stay still, but the pain on her shoulders from the forced position of her arms was starting to affect her and when he grabbed her to help her down from the plane, she almost whimpered, with the pain. He must have heard her, but he didn’t comment, nor did he release her. He simply guided her to a car waiting for them on the empty landing track. They drove for at least thirty minutes before the car entered through an iron gate that took them to a huge house. If they were in New York, it was obviously on the outskirts of town. The car parked in front of the house and Ivan pulled her out, dragging her inside the house and downstairs to a basement. These guys all had basements. She promised herself if she ever made it out of this, never to trust someone with a damn basement.
He made her enter a small cell and finally unlock her cuffs allowing her to move her arms, moaning with pain, as blood returned to the numb parts.
"Get yourself comfortable, you'll live here for the next month while I train you." He announced, showing her a cell very similar to the other ones she had been in, in the past weeks.
She walked to the bunker bed and sat down, keeping her head down, feeling too tired. "Will you tell me what this 'train
ing' entails?" she asked in a faint tone, considering it would be better to know what to expect.
He closed the distance between them and ran his fingers down her cheek, cuddling her cheek in his hand. "I'll teach you how to be the best slave, how to obey, how to anticipate your master's desires, how to be the best lover they have ever had in their lives. And since most slaves' owners are into BDSM, I'll show you how to behave, the positions you'll have to assume, as well as to endure all they might put you through." He explained, feeling her shudder underneath his touch.
Imagining it all made her desperation rise to higher levels, and she wished Wilson had killed her that first day, sparing her all the pain and suffering, she would have to face until she found a way to escape from it. And she knew her only escape would be death.
"Rest today, we'll start tomorrow. Keep in mind resisting me won't bring you any good. There's no escape and you know it." With those words he left the room, locking the door behind him, leaving her alone with her demons.
Chapter 14
The flight to New York lasted an eternity and when they finally landed at the airport, they were informed Ivan had landed there that same morning, but they had no idea where he was. Jordan called Marcus to check if he had any news, but he didn’t. "Do you have any idea where he takes his new slaves to train them?" Jordan asked, starting to feel desperate.
"No, no idea, but his men must know. Visit his club, they'll be able to give you more information. I don’t have their phone numbers." Marcus advised him.
"Very well." Frustrated with the delay, and watching the sun going down over Manhattan, he kept thinking she had been a whole day in this guy's hands, going through god knows what kind of tortures. He knew Ashley, he knew she wouldn’t submit easily, even if it meant more pain for her and that scared him even more.
They crossed town to look for the club and fortunately they were able to find Igor, Ivan's right hand. "Where can I find your boss?" Jordan asked as soon as the greetings were over.
"You can't. He called me this morning to let me know he had a new slave. This always means he'll dedicate all his time to it, and he's not to be disturbed." Igor's tone was peremptory, but Jordan had no intention of accepting that.
"The slave he has is mine, and he had no right to take her away from me." He growled through gritted teeth. "So you better call your boss right now because I have no intention of leaving without her, do you understand?"
Igor looked at Jordan and understood the seriousness of the situation. He knew who Jordan Martinez was, and the power behind him, but this time there was nothing he could do. Every time Ivan got a new slave, he would disappear and no one was authorized to disturb him, unless it was a matter of life and death, and this wasn’t.
"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you. No one is authorized to disturb him, and believe me, I won't." If you want to recover your woman you'll have to wait until he shows up again." Igor insisted, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression resolute.
"I don’t believe there is no way to contact him. You must know where he is, in the case of an emergency." Jordan shouted, getting more and more upset.
"Yes, for a case of life and death and this isn’t." Igor replied.
"I can make it a matter of life and death for you, asshole." Jordan threatened, grabbing the other man by his black shirt's collar.
"Come on, Jordan, you don’t want to go there." Igor warned, not even moving a muscle.
Wilson pulled Jordan back. "Boss, it's no use. We'll find another way to find her."
Jordan turned his killer look to Wilson and he cringed, knowing this was entirely his fault.
Jordan dropped Igor's shirt and stormed out the club. How the hell was he going to find her in a place as big as New York? She could be anywhere, going through god knows what. She was never going to forgive him. He was never getting her back, and he wasn’t sure he could live with that. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.
Wilson ended a call he was making and looked at Jordan. "I've just booked us a suite at a hotel. Let's go there and call Marcus to see if he has any idea where Ivan could be holding her prisoner." He suggested.
Jordan nodded and soon he was on the phone with Marcus. "Someone must know where he is, someone willing to talk. So please, think." Jordan asked his friend.
"I have no idea. I had heard something about it, that he disappeared for some time whenever he got a new slave, but I didn’t know that he cut contact with everyone." Marcus replied.
"Someone has to know. Don’t you know anyone that owns one of his slaves?"
"Uhmm, let me think. Meanwhile, I'll keep calling him. Try to find out where his properties are, make someone follow Igor. I'll send you some of my men to help you out."
"Thank you, I appreciate that."
"You better call your father. Things are quite edgy back in Caracas."
"I will, thank you for all your help." Jordan ended the call and decided to call his father once and for all.
"Hi, dad. It's me Jordan."
"Jordan, what the hell happened in Honduras?" his father yelled at him, showing some anger but a lot of concern.
"My suspicions about the Marquez nephews were confirmed. They were stealing the drugs they supposedly lost and selling them to other cartels. I have all the evidence and witnesses as well. I would have preferred to avoid the killing but they shot first. Jonathan escaped, but I have men after him."
"I should have listened to you, maybe we could have stopped this from the beginning and avoided the pain and shame to your godparents." His father regretted.
"It's useless to cry over spilled milk, dad, you know that. Now, we'll have to reorganize and soon things will be back to normal."
"When are you coming back home?"
"I have a few things to solve here before I'm able to come back, but I will do it as soon as possible."
"Very well. Take care, hijo, remember you're my only son, and parents aren’t supposed to outlive their children."
"I know dad, I'll be careful. Let Alexandra handle the urgent matters until I get back."
"Do you think she is ready for that kind of responsibility?" his dad asked and Jordan sighed. His father was a man from the old school, and he had trouble accepting women could be leaders as well.
"Yes, dad, and she is pretty good at it. Give her the chance."
"Very well. Don’t be long."
"I won't." He ended the call and went to the living room of the suite he was occupying with Wilson.
"Marcus is sending help, but I want you to try and find someone that might know where Ivan might be hiding. But be careful, I don’t want him to find out and disappear to another place."
"Yes, boss, I'll see what I can find."
"Perfect. I'll keep an eye on Igor. He might lead us to Ivan." Jordan sighed. He couldn’t stay with his arms crossed. He had to do something to find her.
So he left the hotel and headed to the club to look for Igor. "Any news?"
The man sighed. "No, he hasn’t been in touch and he won't. He just arrived with the woman, and I know he was thrilled with this new acquisition. So much so that he even went all the way to Miami to get his hands on her. He won't leave her so soon."
Jordan clenched his fists, holding back his desire of punching the other man in the face. "The woman is mine, and he had no right to take her from me."
"So you say. I have no idea of the deal you two made, so I won't intervene." Igor stated.
"No deal, he took her from me without my permission." Jordan snarled through gritted teeth.
"I have no proof of that, so I'm not risking my job or my life just to help you."
"Damn you, I'll find them, believe me."
"Good luck with that." The scornful smile on his face almost made Jordan lose his temper. But he knew better. So he left and waited in his car for Igor to come out. But the bastard didn’t come out. Or if he did, he had missed him, or there was another exit to the damn club. He gave up waiting around 05:00
am and went back to his hotel room.
Wilson was already there, but he didn’t have any news either.
Starting to feel desperate, Jordan decided to hire a private investigator to help him find Ivan discreetly. He had heard of one, famous for doing his job better than anyone, and to be very discreet, so he decided to pay him a visit.
"Hunter Jameson, what can I do for you?" the man, the perfect image of a Viking, presented himself as soon as Jordan entered his office.
"Before we even start, I want to make sure all I tell you and whatever you might find out will be considered confidential." Jordan said, taking a seat, in front of the man's desk.
"Of course. No one will ever even know I've worked for you, Mr. Martinez." The PI said with a smirk, acknowledging he knew who he was dealing with, as he took a seat, behind his desk. "All my work is confidential and I plan to keep it that way."
"Perfect. Since you already know who I am, there's no need for me to introduce myself, so I'll get straight to the point if that's alright with you. I don’t have time to waste." Jordan said, with a frown.
"Be my guest."
"Do you know Ivan Korsakov?"
"Yes, I've heard of him." The man nodded.
"Perfect. I need to find him. He is in one of his properties here in New York, but those who know where he is aren’t speaking and I need to find him urgently." Jordan explained briefly.
"That's not an easy task. None of those properties will be registered to his name."
"If it was easy I wouldn’t be here, I would do it myself," Jordan said, sarcastic.
"Of course." Hunter looked at Jordan for a few seconds. "I thought you two were partners, friends even."
"We are, but I don’t know all his properties, and right now, he is secluded and gave orders not to be disturbed," Jordan answered through gritted teeth.
"Oh, he's with a new slave." The man immediately concluded.
"You seemed to be very well informed about all this," Jordan said, starting to get suspicious.
"It's my job to be informed, and I like to know all about the people I consider important, for one reason or another. It's good to know who you mustn’t piss off in my line of work." The man explained, quietly.
Jordan's Redemption: Bad Boy Mafia Dark Romance book (The Generals' Sons 2) Page 8
