The soldier stopped in front of me, passing me a bottle.
I took it. “We need to go to Marco’s Mall. We’ll see if we can find a trail from there.” My eyes went to Camila as she continued up the staircase. “Where in Marco’s Mall was she meeting him?”
She glanced back at me. “The parking lot.”
I glared at her. “You’re lucky Jagger likes you, otherwise you’d be dead.” I spun around and headed for the door, my next destination Marco’s Mall.
***
The parking lot at Marco’s Mall was sectioned off with police tape, something obviously having gone down there. I got back into my car and called the police headquarters, phoning through to the dirty cop I paid in exchange for information. The soldier sat next to me quietly as I started talking to the officer. “What happened at Marco’s Mall?”
“Please hold,” the officer said.
I waited, knowing he was probably making sure no one was listening in.
He resumed talking a minute later. “Three Donatelli guards were gunned down.”
“Was there a woman involved?”
“Sì. A person who lives in a neighboring warehouse mentioned they heard American voices, one of them female.”
I sat up straight. “Does she have brown hair?”
“He heard, not saw. He was too far away and it was dark. Who is she?”
“I’m paying to ask the questions, not to answer them. Have you got any Intel on where she could’ve gone?”
“A call came in about a suspicious-looking woman entering the Orsini district. She had brown hair and disappeared into the old Salvi home.”
I smiled, relief flooding me. “Molto bene, and whatever you do, do not go near that house. I will check it out.”
“We have a car already heading there.”
“Call it off, use whatever excuse you have to, just do it now. Ring me back as soon as you have confirmation. This is mafia business. Do not go there.”
“Okay, I’ll call now.” He hung up.
I pocketed the phone, my eyes going to the soldier. “I know where she is.”
2
RITA
I leapt onto the couch. Using one of the dead people’s legs as a springboard, I threw myself at Christo, aiming the knife at his smiling face. He shot to the side, kicking me in the hip, sending me flying back. I spun around to break the fall, keeping a firm grip on the knife as I rolled to my feet. He removed a gun from his jacket and pointed it at me.
“Coward,” I spat.
He sneered at me. “No, I’m realistic. I’m too sick to fight you, I’m dying.”
“Then die faster.”
He grimaced, his pale blue eyes looking annoyed. And he did look sick, the man a shadow of his former self. He’d been a powerhouse seven years ago. Now he was skinny and bald, whatever he had ravaging his body.
“That’s no way to speak to your master,” he finally said.
“No one’s my master.”
“I beg to differ.”
“I can prove you wrong if you put that gun down.”
He snorted. “You really are nothing like that girl I fucked seven years ago.”
“I was a child back then, you sick bastard. Now I’m a fully grown woman, who’s more than capable of killing you.”
His lips pulled up into a crooked smile. “Oh, you are delicious. Pity I didn’t find you earlier. We could’ve had so much more fun when I was well.”
“I still would’ve killed you in hand to hand combat. So, again, put that gun down or are you too chicken shit to fight a woman?”
“You can goad my ego all you like, but it won’t work.” He raised his gun. “So drop the knife.”
I threw it at him.
He jerked to the side, the knife barely missing him. “Troia!” he snapped, his face furious. “You will regret that.
“The only thing I regret is missing you.”
“Just get outside! A car is waiting for us.”
What about my brother?”
“He can stay here.”
“You said you’d take him back to the psych hospital.”
“One of my men can do that later.”
My eyes moved to the front door, realizing we weren’t alone. Two soldiers walked through the door, one a skinny weed, the other all muscle.
“Manuel,” Christo said. “Stay with her brother. You can return him to the asylum when I call through.” His pale blue eyes moved back to me. “He’ll stay here until I have you strung up in the barn, primed for some punishment.”
I glanced at my brother.
“He won’t be hurt,” Christo said, “unless you don’t do as you’re told.”
“I’ll do whatever you want.”
“As every little schiava should. Now, out.”
Knowing I didn’t have a choice, I headed out of the house, following the muscled soldier to a black car in the driveway. I went for the back door.
“No, in the trunk,” Christo said.
The soldier opened it. I climbed in, quickly assessing if there were any weapons. Finding nothing, I laid down.
“Hold out your hands,” the soldier said.
I did. He wrapped rope around my wrists, then closed the trunk, locking me inside.
***
As I lay in the trunk, I searched under the carpeting the best I could, my tied wrists and the cramped, dark space hindering me. After several minutes, I gave up, the breakdown kit not in here. I stuck my hands in my pocket and pulled out the blade I’d stolen from Frano. I pressed it between my hands, the tape on the small blade making it stick to my right palm.
After a short drive, we came to a stop. I remained inside the trunk a while longer, wondering what they were doing. Eventually it was opened. The muscular soldier yanked me out, my eyes taking in where we were. It was the same barn Christo had raped me in. I headed for the door, knowing there was no point in running. They still had my brother, and even if they didn’t, I wouldn’t run from Christo—I wanted revenge.
I entered through the open door, the soldier closing it behind us. Christo was leaning against the tractor, smiling at me. My eyes went to the long ropes hanging from the rafters.
“Like my decorations?”
I sneered at him.
His smile remained. “My little teenage schiava would’ve been crying and trembling at the sight. But you’re not scared, are you?”
“No.”
“Oh, you’re going to be an absolute joy to break. I haven’t had such a lovely challenge in years. All the women nowadays cry and break so quick, but you … I hope you don’t disappoint me.”
“That depends upon whether you mind me killing you.”
He pushed away from the tractor and started clapping as he walked towards me. “I love your viciousness.” He stopped a few paces from me and raised his gun. “Take your pants off.”
“Are you stupid? My hands are tied.”
His jaw clenched. “In front of you, which means you can still get them off.”
“You don’t want to strip me instead?”
“Tempting, but I’d rather not get a fist in my face.”
“Maybe the soldier would like to do it for me, then?” I glanced over my shoulder at him. “I’d rather fuck you, Muscles.”
“Schiava!”
I turned back to Christo, giving him a smile. “What’s wrong? Jealous I like him better?”
“I know what you’re doing,” he said, frowning at me.
“And what’s that?”
“You’re going to continue to insult me and flirt with him, trying to cause unrest. And it won’t work.”
“I’m speaking the truth. I like muscular men and you really are skinny. Not my taste at all, baldy.”
His hand whipped out, hitting me hard across the face with his gun, the strike causing me to yelp. I brought my hands to my cheek, then spat blood on one of his shoes.
His eyes widened. “You disrespectful, troia! Get down and lick it up.”
“If you make me, my fist w
ill be in your balls before you can say Jingle Bells.”
He sneered at me. “Matteo has obviously had an effect on you. You have a smartass mouth on you.”
“Who?”
“Matteo, your husband.”
“Oh, him, he’s forgettable—like you.”
Anger clouded his face. “I’m not interested in your stupid banter, troia, so get on your knees and clean my shoe!”
“Jingle Bells—”
His hand whipped out, hitting me across the face again. I refrained from bringing my hands up this time, even though my face hurt like crazy, the strike much harder than the first. Instead, I spat on his other shoe and forced myself to smile, regardless of how much pain I was in.
“Push her to the ground,” Christo snapped at the soldier.
The man shoved me to the ground. Christo rubbed his shoe in my face. I jerked my head to the side, yelling out as he did the same with his other shoe. I lifted my hands, then forced myself to lower them, knowing I couldn’t do shit to him like this.
“You are to call me master,” he said, glaring down at me, “and the next time you disrespect me, you’ll get worse than bitch slapped.”
I pushed to my knees and looked up at him. “You can do whatever the hell you like, but it won’t change the fact you’re not a real man.”
“I have you cowering before me.”
“I’m not cowering; I’m only on my knees because you have a gun. If you didn’t have one, you’d be dead. By the way, what you and your brother did to me and Jagger was nothing but an act of cowardice. People like you deserve to be put out of everyone’s misery.”
His eyes moved to the soldier. “Gag her.”
I was yanked to my feet.
“Open your mouth,” the soldier said.
My eyes stayed on Christo. “Pathetic,” I said, opening my mouth wide.
The ball was jammed into my mouth and the straps secured around my head. I kept my eyes on Christo, knowing I couldn’t show any sign of weakness, otherwise I would be dead by the end of the day. He didn’t take his eyes off me, his expression unreadable.
“Strip her,” he said.
The soldier pulled out a knife and cut my shirt away, then removed my pants along with my underwear.
“Tie her up.”
The soldier prodded me forward. I walked to the second lot of ropes, holding my hands up, the feel of the blade in between my palms calming me.
Christo’s eyes ran over my body as the soldier attached my wrists to the hanging rope. “I like your new body very much. It’s much nicer than the soft, plump figure you had as a teenager.” He ran his hand over my stomach, moving it around to my back as he circled me. “Nice and clear skin, perfect for whipping. Actually, I wouldn’t mind hearing you scream.” He undid the tie at the back of my head and removed the gag. “Maybe I could whip you a bit. Let’s see if you have any smart-mouthed comments after that. I personally think you’ll be begging me to stop.”
“That doesn’t change the fact you’re still a coward.”
“Quiet!”
“You removed the gag so you must want me to talk.”
He stepped in front of me, his slap to my face making my head whip to the side. I flexed my jaw, my face still throbbing from his previous blows. “You hit like a grandmother,” I said, staring him in the eyes.
“Liar.” He grabbed my cheeks and squeezed them, making me yelp.
My knee whipped out, hitting him in the balls. Hollering, he stumbled back, his hands going to his crotch. The soldier rushed forward, asking if he was all right. Christo snapped at him to get back, then straightened, his face bright red. “Troia!” he yelled. “You will pay for that!”
“I already have. Seven fucking years ago!”
He moved forward fast, striking me in the stomach hard. My leg shot out again, but he moved to the side, hitting me again. I yelled out, wanting to bend forward to clutch my stomach, but couldn’t, my tied wrists stopping me.
“Not so funny now that it’s you, is it?” he spat.
“You’re weak hitting a tied up woman,” I coughed out. “It’s pathetic that the Donatelli consider you their Don. Shows how pathetic they’ve become.”
He moved behind me and grabbed my hair, yanking my head back. I looked at his vicious face. “You aren’t as strong as you think, schiava; this is all an act to anger me.”
“Are you angry?” I asked, grimacing at the pull on my hair.
“Not after I break you down piece by piece.”
“Eat me.”
“I’m not the Black Russian, so I’ll have to pass on that.” He let go of my hair, his footsteps heading away from me. I turned my head, trying to see what he was up to, my heart pounding like crazy.
He came into my line of vision with a whip and a cruel smile. I turned my head back around, willing myself to be strong. Even if he whipped me, I had to stay in control. I couldn’t break, and I most certainly couldn’t drop the scalpel.
“No smart comments now?” Christo said, running the whip down my back, making me shiver.
“I’ve decided you’re a waste of breath.”
“Is that so?”
A crack came from behind me, the sound of the whip. It didn’t touch me, but I still jolted.
Christo laughed in response. “Not so tough now.”
“You’d react too if you were about to be whipped.”
“Always add the title of master when speaking to me.”
“You’re not my master,” I spat. “You’re just a scrawny bastard with an overly inflated ego.”
He cracked the whip again, this time striking me. I yelled out, taken by surprise, the pain slicing down my back.
“I will whip respect into you!” he yelled.
I tightened my grip on the blade, feeling it slice into my hand, but I didn’t let it go. Instead, I breathed through the pain.
He moved in front of me, placing the whip between my breasts. “Now, the next time you open your mouth, think before you speak, because it could mean the difference between pleasure and pain.”
“You can’t bring me pleasure. You’re a dried up old prune.”
He glared at me. “I meant it as a saying, and I don’t wish to fuck you, you battered troia. By the time I’m finished with you, no one will want you, not even Frano D’Angelo.”
“Don’t you dare speak his name! You stole me from him, stole seven years of our life together. You stole my happiness, you stole everything!”
He smiled. “Oh, looks like I’ve found the right buttons to push. And, schiava, Frano never truly wanted you; he just wanted to steal what was his little cousin’s. If I had left you untouched, the manwhore would’ve tossed you aside after a month and moved onto the next woman.”
“He loved me; he wanted to marry me, still does.”
“That’s just what he says to women he wants to fuck. Propose and see how fast their panties drop.” He laughed.
“You’re lying. I was with him not long ago.”
“And now you’re with me, he’ll move on like the last time, possibly even get married again.”
“Again?”
“Oh, he didn’t tell you.” He smiled wider, probably knowing his words hurt me. “He married Angelica Rosso not long after you were dumped in the river.”
I clenched my jaw, angry with Frano for not mentioning it. “Then why isn’t she with him anymore?” I said, barely controlling my voice.
“She committed suicide. As far as I heard, he fucked her once on their wedding night, then took off to America to finish his studies. There, he fucked all the women he could get his hands on, then returned home and ignored her. When she tried to talk to him, he told her he was only with her because he was forced to be. He also said he would keep fucking whomever ever he liked and for her to shut the fuck up. THAT is why the Rossos are helping me. I promised them revenge for their daughter.”
“It still isn’t his fault; they forced him to marry her.”
“He was cruel to her
when she loved him.”
“What do you care?”
“I don’t, other than the Rosso Don helped me, so he could get revenge on Frano for driving his daughter into an early grave.” He ran his hand over the whip. “Which I have every intention of doing.”
“Frano’s protected by the Landi.”
“Not anymore. My spy in the Landi household told me the soldiers have pulled out, while Frano’s running all over the island looking for you. So, I paid a dirty cop on his payroll to give him a juicy piece of information about you being seen entering your old home. Of course he’ll go straight there, where I have men waiting for him.”
I stared at him, panic now brewing in my chest, the thought of Frano walking into a trap absolutely terrifying me.
3
FRANO
I phoned the Orsini Capo. Georgio answered with a respectful, “How may I help you, Don?”
I looked out the window as the soldier drove through the countryside, heading for Rita’s old home. “I need your men to check out the house Capo Salvi used to live in,” I said, praying she was still there.
“That’s already going to happen. Suspicious activities have been noticed there. At the moment, my men are preparing to go in.”
“What activities?”
“Black cars have been seen going in and out of the property. One of my men called the house to check on the occupants, since they’re civilians, but no one answered. So, I posted one of my soldati in a neighboring house to see if he could get any visuals. He recognized two men who work for the Donatelli.”
“Wait until I get there before you go in. I’m ten minutes away.”
“It’s best to meet at my house first.”
After agreeing, I hung up, happy to have the Orsini at my back, the family trustworthy.
We arrived at Capo Orsini’s house in just under ten minutes. The Landi soldier pulled up to an elaborate iron gate, its pattern displaying two lions facing each other. A guard was standing in front of it. He was a solid man in his mid-twenties, sporting buckteeth. He removed a gun from his holster and pointed it at the Landi soldier as we got out of the car.
“Lower your weapon,” I said.
The guard kept it raised. “He’s Landi.”
My Masters' Nightmare, Season 1 / Episode 14 Page 2
