by Ella Miles
“I thought you only dealt with legal things? What would you need men like this for if you were on the straight and narrow? They are experienced in handling women if all they needed was a look to grab me.”
Armas steps forward, standing inches from me, now that he has his men to hold me back and I can’t do anything to harm him.
“I said my business was lawful; I never said that I wasn’t a monster.”
“You’re a coward. You won’t even face me alone. I’ve got a busted leg, and you still couldn’t take me alone.”
My stomach churns looking at his devilish grin.
“Don’t worry. I’ll have you alone soon.” He glances at the man on my right. “Take her to my bedroom and make sure she’s secured with handcuffs.”
The man’s eyes widen as he stares down at my leg. “I’ll confine her, but I don’t think it’s necessary. She’s not going anywhere.”
Armas glares at the man, who is going to be punished later for daring to speak out against him. “You need to use the thick handcuffs. She’s not as broken as she looks. She will do everything she can to escape, even when there is no hope left.”
The man nods and both men start pulling me into the house while I hop on one leg, attempting to keep up instead of getting dragged again.
They pull me inside the house, and I’m overtaken by the smell of sweet flowers. The whole house has vases of fresh flowers everywhere, sitting on almost every hard surface.
A woman lives here. There is no way that Armas would think to have flowers in his house if he lived alone. A tiny glimmer of hope flickers in my heart. If I can find the woman and convince her to help me, then I might have a chance.
I glance at the man that thought it was pointless to tie me up.
“Does Armas live here by himself?”
“Yes.”
I frown, not sure if I believe him.
“Ow,” I moan. My injured leg hits the bottom step as they start leading me up the stairs.
The men pause, giving me a moment to catch up with them. I do my best to lift my wounded leg up.
“It seems like such a big house for him to live here all alone. And I’ve never heard of a man that has so many flowers.”
The man chuckles. “Trust me. He lives alone except for the staff. The flowers were supposed to be for Gia, but —”
The man stops when the man to my left clears his throat and gives him a look.
I sigh.
The men start moving quickly again, and I struggle to keep up. My leg hits more stairs than I can tolerate and when we reach the top, I collapse in their arms.
They don’t let me rest though. It’s like a flip has been switched and gone are the men that didn’t want to bring me additional pain.
I have no energy left. Nothing left in me to fight with.
I let them drag me, despite the stabbing pain, down the hallway, and into a bedroom.
I can make out the bedroom from behind the dark spots that have formed in my field of vision. There is a bed and some other furniture, but I can’t make out what color the items are or any details.
My heart palpates so loudly in my chest that I’m sure both men holding onto me can hear it and feel it. My body trembles in their arms. I blink rapidly trying to clear my head. I’m desperate to figure out a plan to get out of here.
But no matter how many times I blink, my eyes don’t uncloud, my head doesn’t focus, and the pain doesn’t leave my body.
The men start dragging me toward the bed, and I dig the heel of my healthy leg into the ground, trying to stall them until I can come up with a plan. Once I’m tied to the bed, I will have no hope of escaping.
The men exchange glances and pick me up off the floor entirely.
I thrash in their arms determined to escape. They hold my arms and legs tightly, making it almost impossible to kick free. I move my head over to bite them on the arm, but I’m too slow. One of the men grips my head and holds it still.
I can’t move.
I can’t do anything to prevent this from happening.
“Please, you don’t want to do this,” I beg. I can’t use my body, but maybe I can remind them that they have a soul. That they don’t want to work for a devil like Armas.
One man laughs.
“You think we care?”
I bite my bottom lip to keep it from trembling. “Yes, I know you do. I’ve been held captive for weeks now. I know when a man has a heart or not. You both do. Help me escape. Find the kindheartedness inside you. I’ll give you whatever you want if you do.”
The second man snickers.
“We don’t need your help. We get paid handsomely for the work that we do. Mr. Espocito is a fair employer, better than Mr. Carini. He doesn’t ask us to risk our lives as Mr. Carini does. We deal with wine shipments and security. Occasionally, he asks more of us. Things you might call evil and wrong. But it’s not wrong. We’ve learned that bitches like you always deserve what is coming to you.”
My eyes widen at the smug expression on his face. How could I think he had a heart? No man in Italy has a soul. No one can save me. All these men want is money. They will do anything their masters command of them for it.
They carry me to the bed and toss me down, not caring that I scream when they do. A sharpness shoots from my leg up to my spine as the soft bed hits it, but it feels like a sharp knife instead.
My head is light, and the room spins around, making it impossible for me to fight, as they start holding down my arms and legs. I feel the familiar cold of handcuffs going around my wrists, as my arms are jerked above my head and attached to something. I don’t even bother testing the strength of the metal cuffs. If they had used floss to tie my arms up, I still wouldn’t be able to break through. I’m that weak.
Metal goes on my left leg, and my right leg is spread wide, but I don’t feel the cold I’m expecting.
I stare down at the man looking at my broken leg. He’s hesitating to put the last cuff on. He knows it’s useless, but his boss commanded it, so after a few seconds of hesitation, he puts it on and attaches my leg to the bed.
I grimace as my broken leg is pulled tight like every other one of my extremities.
The men leave without a word. I close my eyes as I hear the door slam shut.
Sleep. I’ve never wanted to sleep so much in my life. My body needs rest to attempt to start healing. Maybe if I fall asleep, I’ll sleep through the whole thing and have no memory of the rape.
Rape.
The thought of the word causes my stomach to flip in my body. I’m sick. This can’t be happening.
I try to take a deep breath, but I can’t. My body won’t relax. It’s on heightened alert. Blood races through my body as my heart pumps way too fast. Nerves fire off, alerting every inch of my body to stay awake and ready. Alerting me that something dangerous is about to happen.
The door opens, and Armas appears in the doorway.
I narrow my eyes at him, as he walks to the edge of the bed. I will not let him see my fear or pain. I may not have a chance of escaping, but I’m going to leave with as much of me intact as possible.
His hand runs over my wound, and I do everything I can to not flinch, but my leg twitches involuntarily trying to escape the discomfort.
He smirks. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”
My lips tighten. I won’t answer him.
He shakes his head, as his hand trails up my injured leg over my sex and across my stomach to my breast. He squeezes it tightly, attempting to invoke another reaction out of me.
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 y
ou 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 trying 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 Ede
n 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.
