4
RITA
I lay on the ground, bound like an animal, the rope so tight it cut into my flesh. After Christo had whipped my back yesterday, the muscular soldier had pulled me down. I’d tried to stay awake, but had fallen asleep, exhaustion finally getting the better of me.
The sound of footsteps grabbed my attention. The muscular soldier was walking towards me with Christo shadowing him like the Grim Reaper, the psycho dressed in black. The soldier bent down and cut away my rope. I still had the small blade in my hand, the tape keeping it stuck to my palm. I just hadn’t had the opportunity to use it, since I’d been wrapped up tighter than a caterpillar in a cocoon.
The soldier lifted me up, ordering me to stand. Once I was on my feet, he tied my wrists to the rope hanging from the rafter, leaving the rest of me unbound.
Christo barked an order at him, “Hurry, our guests will be arriving soon.”
My eyes moved to the three chairs by the horse stalls, which hadn’t been there last night.
“One for me, the others for Don Luigi Rosso and his eldest son Guido,” Christo said, probably noticing me looking at them. “They’re coming to watch your lover die. They’ve waited a long time to see Frano pay for what he did to Angelica.”
“I’ve told you enough times it wasn’t Frano’s fault.”
“Saying it doesn’t make it true. He killed her by treating her like vermin. Her father said she loved Frano and couldn’t live with his hatred.”
“That’s what happens when people are forced into marriage.”
“My oldest brother had an arranged marriage, and he never mistreated his wife even though she was a vicious troia. In comparison, Angelica Rosso was a nice woman. She may have been dumb as merda, but nonetheless, she was harmless. She didn’t deserve to be verbally abused by Frano. He even brought slaves into their bed, fucking them where she slept. He did everything to make her life hell, and because of that she committed suicide. When those two married, they were meant to make their famiglie stronger, but instead it turned the Rossos against the D’Angelos. And unlike other famiglie, the Rossos are very patient and cunning. They can wait for years before exacting revenge without letting anyone know what they’re up to. They can lie to your face and you wouldn’t even suspect a thing, until you’re dying from the knife they stuck in your back.”
“You’re criticizing Frano after what you did to my parents?! You’re a fucking hypocrite, you psychotic bastard!”
He smiled. “That’s very true; though the psychotic side of me doesn’t care that I’m a hypocrite. I do as I please, and really, right now I don’t care what happens to anyone but my brother and nephew. I don’t even care what happens to me.”
“Then untie me, so I can torture and murder you.”
“No, I’d prefer to make you watch Frano’s demise. I also want to torment him through you. Today’s going to be very enjoyable.”
“I will fucking come back from the dead and haunt you.”
“Such passion. I do like you, Sophia.”
“It’s Rita; you killed the girl in me.”
“But I’ll let the woman live—as long as Frano sticks to his word. Now, I have to arrange for his painful death.” He turned and headed outside.
My eyes went to the soldier, who followed him. I swore in my head when he stopped in the doorway. I’d wanted to use the blade to cut myself free, but with him there, I couldn’t do jack.
He crossed his arms over his muscular chest and leaned against the wall, his eyes locking onto my body.
“Having a good look, pervert?” I asked.
He didn’t answer me, just kept staring.
Wanting to mind fuck him, I continued talking, “You have more muscle in your little finger than that bag of bones Donatelli. Why are you taking orders from him? Are you a pussy or just dumb?”
“Be quiet.”
“Not going to happen, Steroids. And I’m leaning towards thinking you’re dumb. That’s probably why you let Christo tell you what to do. You’re all muscle and no brains, which means, you’ll be a lowly soldato for the remainder of your worthless life. You’ll be doing all the shit jobs the Capos and Dons consider beneath them. Hey, does Christo get you to wipe his ass too, because you stink like his shit.”
“Be quiet, woman!”
“What will you do if I don’t? Nothing. Or maybe you’ll hit me. Yeah, that’ll prove you really are a wimp for striking a woman, like your pissant Don. Pathetic.”
“Last warning!”
“Why? Is there a self-destruct button or something that will go off if I keep talking?”
He started walking towards me.
“Why are you coming over? Because you obviously like men, since you bend over for Christo.”
The man’s face reddened. He pulled a ball gag out of his pocket.
“Even if you gag me, I’ll still be thinking you’re a fenucca who likes taking Christo’s cock up his ass.”
He punched me in the stomach, then grabbed my hair and yanked my head back hard. I shouted in pain, getting the ball gag pushed into my mouth a second later. He smiled smugly at me as he went to tie the straps behind my head. Glaring at him, I pissed on his foot. He looked down, then yelled out and jumped back.
I pushed the ball gag out of my mouth with my tongue, since he hadn’t finished tying it up. “You really are a magnet for piss and shit,” I said.
“You dirty troia!” His hand whipped out, slapping me across the face.
I winced, the strike hard.
“There will be more like that if you defile or insult me again,” he snapped.
“So be it.” I spat blood on his shoe.
He looked down, then raised his hand again.
“What are you doing?!” a yell came from the door.
He spun around. “She pissed on me.”
Christo stormed over. “Only I can strike her!”
“But she pissed on me.”
“You shouldn’t be near her.”
“She wouldn’t shut up, so I tried to gag her.”
“Get out!” Christo yelled, pointing at the door.
“I didn’t mean to offend.”
“Out!”
The soldier took off, disappearing out the door.
Christo’s hard gaze moved to me. “I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you causing trouble.”
“I didn’t ask for you to come in, and you could’ve just let him do what he wanted to me. By the way, he fucked me while you were out there, that’s why I really pissed on him.”
He gritted his teeth. “You think I’m stupid enough to believe that?”
“Well, part of that sentence is true, because you are stupid.”
He moved closer to me, his face a breath away. I considered head-butting him, but refrained, my face hurting enough as it is, his strikes yesterday combined with the soldier’s nasty.
“I will make you suffer as I pull out every fingernail Frano has,” he said. “I will also break all his fingers and toes, then beat the merda out of him in front of you.”
Angered by his words, I rammed my forehead into his, no longer caring about the consequences. He yelled out and stumbled backwards, his hand going to his head. Fury shot across his face, then his fist barreled into my nose, making me holler in agony. But I didn’t have enough time to think about it as his hands moved to my nipples. He squeezed them hard, causing me to scream, the pain bringing tears to my eyes, my nipples overly sensitive.
He glared at me. “There’ll be more like this until you learn to show me some respect, schiava.”
“Fuck you!” I spat at him.
He roared with anger, then his fist barreled into my face again, this time knocking me out cold.
5
FRANO
The Landi soldier pulled up to the dilapidated cottage that Sophia and I used to meet in, the place holding good memories. Though, nothing good was going to come out of today. My gaze went to the car waiting in the driveway. It was a long
black vehicle with tinted windows. Two Donatelli soldiers were leaning against it, both holding guns. I removed my own gun from my jacket and shot the Landi soldier in the head, knowing he would’ve followed me regardless of what I told him, getting Rita killed in the process.
The Donatelli shouted outside, demanding I drop the gun. I did, then pushed out of the car with my hands raised.
“Walk towards us slowly,” the fatter of the two soldiers shouted. He had his gun pointed at me, his face scared.
I did as he asked, stopping in front of him.
“Remove your jacket and throw it on the ground,” he added.
Again, I did what he wanted.
The other soldier started patting me down. He looked barely out of his teens, the kid needing nappies not a gun. Once finished, he jerked his head to the car. “Get in the trunk.”
“I will ride up front.”
“My Don’s instructions are for you to get into the trunk.”
“Does your Don sit in the trunk?”
“Of course not.”
“Then you shouldn’t treat me any differently.”
“But—”
“There are no buts! I’m a Don and I demand to be treated as such around soldati.”
“I—”
Moving fast, I yanked him towards me and grabbed his gun, using his body to shield mine before the other soldier could react. “I’ll snap his neck if you don’t concur with my wishes,” I said, pointing the gun at the other soldier. “I’m here willingly, so give me the common courtesy of allowing me to ride up front.”
“My Don—”
I cocked the gun. “Are you questioning me?”
The soldier shook his head vigorously. “No, no, I was just going to say I have to get permission from my Don first.”
“Do it, then.”
He removed his phone from his black jacket. He was sweating profusely, the stains under his armpits not just from the heat. Obviously, the Donatelli were scraping the bottom of the barrel for their soldiers, especially since I was able to overpower them within seconds.
A second later, he was explaining the situation to his Don. He moved the phone away from his ear, the shout of “Incompetents!” coming through the line loud enough for me to hear. He put the phone back to his ear. “La prego, Don, mi perdoni,” he said, begging for forgiveness. “Sì, we will do that. Grazie mille.” He hung up and slipped his phone into his back pocket, his attention returning to me. “You may ride in the front passenger seat.”
I let go of the young soldier and shoved him towards his partner, then got into the front passenger seat. The two soldiers climbed into the car after me, the fat one taking the wheel, his hands shaking. I shook my head in disgust, thinking this was what had become of the Donatelli famiglia. Even worse, I was going to die surrounded by these rejects.
Within seconds, we were heading towards our destination. I closed my eyes, certain I would be seeing Alberto in Hell soon.
***
The soldier turned into a driveway and drove down the bumpy lane, the car ride short. A large barn stood amongst a green field with a few cars hiding behind it. The soldier parked beside them. He asked me politely to get out, the man rightly showing me respect.
I climbed out and waited for instructions, not knowing what to do, other than be a lamb to the slaughter.
“My Don’s waiting for you inside the barn,” the fat soldier said.
“I will pay you both two million if you help me,” I said, upping what I’d offered during the car ride.
“Again, we wouldn’t live long enough to enjoy the money.”
“The offer still stands, and I’m good for my word, so if you change your mind, make sure you take out Christo when he least expects it.”
“Not happening.”
“You have no balls.”
“More like I want to keep them.”
Frustrated, I exhaled loudly. “So, what am I walking into?”
“Death, but I think you already know that.”
I grimaced. “Then, let’s get this started.” I headed around the barn, entering through the large door. I stopped in my tracks, horrified by what I saw. Rita was hanging from a rope, her arms stretched tight. She was naked, while her face was swollen and bloodied. She looked either dead or unconscious, my woman beaten to a pulp. I ran for her.
“Frano!” Christo shouted. “Don’t touch her!”
I came to a sudden stop in front of Rita, my head whipping to the side. Christo was sitting in a chair next to the Rosso Don and his eldest son, the men glaring at me.
“Fuck you!” I yelled. I turned back to Rita, feeling for her pulse, beyond relieved when I found one.
“Get your hands off my schiava!” Christo shouted.
I spun around. “This is my woman. My woman! How dare you beat her!”
He pushed out of his chair. He was a shadow of his former self, almost unrecognizable, only his pale blue eyes unchanged. Unlike his twin, he was deadly thin, a skeleton waiting to be buried, the man clearly sick.
“The arrogant troia asked for it,” he said. “She head-butted me and spat in my face. She’s lucky to be alive.” Holding a gun, he walked towards me, stopping a few feet away. “If anything, she was probably trying to get me to kill her, so I didn’t have any leverage over you. I know how people’s minds work, though she doesn’t know mine, because no matter what, you’re not getting out of this alive.”
“Then set her free now. I’m here; you must abide by your word.”
“No, I want her to watch you die. Through you, I will break her. After that, I’ll leave her to mourn over your dead body.”
Don Rosso cut in, “What’s left of it.”
My glare shifted to him. The grizzled old Don was sitting next to his oaf of a son, glaring at me. He was in his sixties, although he looked older, the man having lived a hard life.
“Looks like the Landi were right about your famiglia.” I spat on the ground. “Traitors!”
Don Rosso pushed to his feet with his cane, which he needed after having a recent hip replacement. “I will enjoy your death. I want you to suffer for what you did to my daughter.”
“I did nothing to her.”
“Liar! You drove her to her death.”
I sneered at him. “No, you and my father did by forcing me into marrying her.”
“You promised to love and protect her.”
“I never said that. I promised to marry her and provide a child—that’s all. It wasn’t my fault the troia was barren.”
The Don’s son shot out of his seat and rushed forward, a look of pure hatred on his hard features. Unlike his father, he was big and strong. He reminded me of a slimmer version of Alberto, his face just as brutish.
Christo stepped in front of him. “Don’t react to his taunts, you’ll get your vengeance soon enough.”
“I’m not taunting,” I said, “I’m stating a fact. Angelica couldn’t bear children.”
Guido pointed at me, his dark eyes venomous. “You’re the sterile one. You couldn’t get my sister pregnant, not the other way around.”
“Considering I’m a father, I disagree.”
“You’re lying.”
I shook my head, my heart heavy. “When I was fifteen, I got a slave pregnant without realizing it. My father found out when her new master bragged to a mutual friend about selling a D’Angelo heir. He tortured the slave owner to find out who the buyer was, but they used an untraceable alias.”
Using his cane, the Don Rosso headed my way. “Good. I want you to suffer like you made me suffer.”
“I don’t understand why you’re blaming me for Angelica’s death after all these years. You’ve never asked for vengeance before, never even challenged me. You also hugged me at the funeral.”
“I didn’t know it was your fault back then. Angelica’s maid came to me a week later with proof of what you’d done to my daughter.”
“What proof?”
“She had a recording of you saying th
e vilest of things to my sweet girl.”
“It was probably because she wouldn’t leave me alone. She was too stupid to listen, and a recording isn’t enough to validate your claim.”
“The maid spoke of other things you did, of you bringing slaves into your bed.”
“Only because your whiny daughter made me soft.”
The Don reached for his gun.
“No!” Christo yelled, putting his hands out. “Don’t make this easy on him. If you shoot him, he won’t suffer.”
“Then start the fucking torture!” the Don yelled, spit spraying from his mouth. He lifted his cane and pointed it at me. “I want this Slavic scum to suffer.”
“I’m not a Slav,” I said.
His eyes narrowed at me. “You are. Your puttana of a mother got pregnant by her Croatian lover. You’re not even full Italian, yet you think you can lead the five famiglie? That was never going to happen.”
I shook my head, not believing him. “My father wouldn’t have treated me with such love if that was true.”
Don Rosso lifted his chin up, his expression triumphant. “It is true. That’s why he murdered your mother, burying her alive with the body of your real father.”
“That means nothing. My mother cheated. That’s why he killed her.”
“Only partly, you’re the rest of the reason.”
“Stop trying to mindfuck me, it won’t work.”
“Whether you believe me or not, you still have Slavic blood flowing through your veins, of which will be spilt today.” He headed over to his chair, his son helping him into it.
I turned to Christo. “Let’s get this over with.”
Christo smiled. “Oh, this isn’t going to be quick; I can guarantee you that.”
“Fine, just cut Rita down.”
“It’s Sophia, and she’s staying there for now.” He pointed to a rope hanging several feet in front of Rita. “You’re going to be tied up there so she can see everything that happens to you. Now, strip.”
“Guess you’re a fenucca like your brother, after all.”
“No, clothes will just get in the way for what I have planned.”
I unbuttoned and slipped my shirt off, letting it fall to the ground, knowing I wouldn’t need it again. I pushed my pants down along with my underwear, kicking everything off. Once naked, I held my arms up to be tied to the rope.
My Masters' Nightmare, Season 1 / Episode 14 Page 4
