Covert (The Clans Book 9)

by Elizabeth Knox

  Franco heads over to where Madigan hangs, pulls a knife out of his trousers and cuts off her top so her breasts are exposed but doesn’t stop there. He continues so her pants are free and they fall to the floor. My eyes divert immediately to the blood which is now staining her clothes, and I notice it before Franco does.

  Her stomach protrudes in a such a defined way and I pray that I’m wrong.

  I pray that she isn’t, because I’m fearful for what Franco will do.

  His cackling laughter greets us once again when his eyes land on her stomach and I scream out, “Franco, please! Please don’t do this. Please stop!”

  He shifts his gaze over in my direction, “Shut up.”

  “If you care about me at all, you won’t do this.”

  He laughs yet again, “Care about you? I’ve been paying you to stick my cock in your cunt. I don’t give a flying fuck about you. All you are is a dirty little whore. Let that sink in for a bit.” He might not realize it, but his words do somehow get to me. I was a virgin, an innocent angel in the opinion of the Romanian bloodlines. I would’ve made the perfect wife for any man, but this mission . . . doing what the government has required of me to clear my name and somehow get out of the mess my father created. Well, it’s corrupted me. It has turned me into the dirty thing Franco speaks of.

  “An eye for an eye, Madigan. You took my blood from me, so I’m taking this one from you.” Before I even realize what’s happening Franco is dragging his knife into Madigan’s flesh, tearing her uterus in the process. Blood flows down the front of her and I can’t fight back the bile rising in my throat, I vomit all over the Falcones goon.

  This can’t get any worse, can it?

  Chapter 18

  Isabella

  I want this to all be a dream, but I know I’m not so lucky. Even after vomiting on Franco’s man he forced me to stare at Madigan and what his boss was doing to her. My vomit didn’t even phase this guy, which tells me he must assist Franco on his darker endeavors.

  Watching what Franco’s been doing has been horrific. Even in my worst nightmares I couldn’t muster up something this terrible. After a couple of minutes Madigan went quiet. I’m assuming from shock or blood loss, but Franco seemed to enjoy it more when he could do what he wanted. He ripped the child from her womb like a Satan worshipper, and smiled as he turned back to me and covered in Madigan’s blood.

  “You’re pure evil.” I tell him, anger evident in my voice.

  “No, I’m karma. It’s best you remember that.”

  Right now, I wish I never took my father up on his offer to help him. I wish I was married off to some Romanian man who didn’t matter and could’ve been living in the suburbs with two-point-five kids, a white picket fence and a golden retriever. I’d do anything to go back and make different decisions so I wouldn’t have to be in this scenario. I hate this. Every single bit of it. More than anything though, I hate my father for setting me up in such a way . . . for ultimately making me go through all of this.

  “You’ll burn in hell for everything you’ve done.”

  Franco cranes his neck to the side and gives me a smile, “Oh, no more miss nice? You’ve decided to switch to a little bitch?”

  “No one would be nice to you after seeing that.” I say, keeping my eyes on him. I can’t bear to look at Madigan, not knowing if she’s even alive at this point.

  “I’ll tell you what. We’ve already discussed you’re a whore, so I’m going to treat you just as you are. You spread your legs for money then went digging through things you shouldn’t have. I know the perfect karma to give you,” Franco looks to his goon, Lazzaro. “Fanculo come una prostituta ad Amsterdam.” I don’t know what he’s just said, but I see the way Lazzaro’s eyes light up.

  Franco walks up to me and I see he brings the bloody knife along with him. Instantly I’m terrified for my own life. Although, as he cuts the clothes straight off my body I realize what’s about to happen.

  Death would be merciful compared to this.

  Lazzaro picks me up and places my wrists over one of the meat hooks, so my arms are forced in the air. My feet don’t touch the floor since the hook is up a bit higher than the rest and I hang for a moment. That is, until a hard pressure presses into my lower back. I’ve felt this sort of pressure before, only from Franco and Marcel.

  Franco strides in front of me, “My men will have their way with you today and today only. Since you’re such a good little whore maybe I’ll keep you as my own personal slut. My young, beautiful breeder to give me more sons. I thought about keeping Madigan for that, however I sadly don’t think she’ll be able to have more children now.” He chuckles, grabbing me by the throat, he shoves a bloody hand inside my pussy and stretches me in a way which isn’t pleasurable in any sense of the word. I feel like I’m being ripped apart into two people.

  “Fuck the whore, Lazzaro. I won’t tell you twice. Sergio, you should get in on this too. I won’t let my little slut be touched by others ever again. This is your one chance to sink your cock into the woman I told you is as tight as a virgin. You know, I bet that ass of yours hasn’t ever been touched.” Franco says, unzipping his trousers and pulls his cock out. He fists the long, shriveled up thing until he’s harder than I’ve ever seen him before. The sound of his fancy thousand dollar shoes against the concrete scare me in more ways than I can count, especially when I feel Lazzaro step back and a stabbing pressure slam into me.

  “Fuck, no!” I plead with him, but he refuses to stop. It’s mind boggling how I screwed this man for work essentially and it was consensual but now he’s taking advantage of me in such a way. Men are like that, though. They’ll violate a woman in the one place they feel where they hold the ultimate power over them—sexually.

  Lazzaro comes to my front and within an instant another pressure is forced in me. They’re violating two parts of me, both grunting, heaving with sweatiness and getting their fill.

  Franco comes to a stop and moans in my ear as he cums inside me, but Lazzaro continues. Franco spits out more Italian and I see two more men come inside, but again there’s pressure at my back.

  The sound of his shoes tapping against the floor greet me just as he comes into view and I see him smile from behind Lazzaro.

  “I’ve decided what I’ll do to you, Teresa. You’re my family sex slave now. My men will come in this room and fuck you all day today because that’s what I’ve allowed. Their cum will drip from every hole you have. Your mouth, your ass, and that tight cunt. Don’t think this is the worst of it, because I promise I’ll make you suffer more than you know.”

  I hear the door open and more men come inside the room, standing behind their boss with their cocks out. They palm their shafts and I realize this is my reality.

  What Franco said will happen.

  I’ll be stuck here forever if Marcel doesn’t find me. But part of me prays Marcel isn’t the one who finds me. I can’t fathom him seeing me in this way.

  Chapter 19

  Marcel

  I try my best to breathe a little easier knowing my sister and new family members are all okay. Yet, somehow I can’t. I’m far too worried about Isabella.

  Salvatore left a few minutes ago and Aria just fell asleep so I rise from the crappy hospital chair and walk outside of her room, shutting the door behind me so I’m careful not to wake her. This is the first time in the last few hours I’ve been able to check my phone and I’m hopeful there’s some sort of news. The not knowing a damn thing will slowly kill me.

  Call me when you can.

  I must have impeccable timing because Christian Steele only texted me four minutes ago. I tap his name in my contacts list and call the bastard.

  “What do you have?”

  “My people say the girls are in a meat locker in the Bronx.”

  “Meat locker?” I question.

  “A storage facility for meat, to keep it cold and shit. It’s not owned by Falcone, but a good friend of his is tied to it. I’m pretty sure that’s
why he took them there, ‘cause it wouldn’t look like somewhere he’d go.”

  “How many guards are there?” I ask. A man like Falcone must have a small army surrounding that place.

  “My contact counted twenty on the outside in various areas of the locker. It has three stories, an unloading dock for tractor trailers and some of their men are posted around the neighboring streets.”

  “Fuck, they’re prepared for anything.”

  “Seems that way. I’m calling in a favor with a friend.” Christian says.

  “I am too. We have connections to a biker club that Mariana’s half-sisters and brothers are involved in. Salvatore’s half-brother is in the club as well.”

  “You mean the Skulls Renegade MC?” Christian asks.

  “Yep.”

  “They’re who I was calling. My brothers are close with their enforcer, Seamus. He practically grew up with us.”

  “Great, let’s get some backup. I doubt the Clans will give me the amount of manpower that I need.” I tell him.

  “No problem. If memory serves me, they were up in Maryland for some sort of rally at the beach. Bet they’re only a few hours away.”

  “Alright, call them and let’s get this shit sorted. I’ll be there in a few hours. Keep your eye on the place.” I say, hanging up the phone.

  Salvatore comes into view and gives me a concerned look. “Why do you look so furious?”

  I suck in a sharp breath and tell him what I failed to when I left to come here. “Isabella is missing. My friend and I just got a lead on her whereabouts and I need to go. There’s no time to waste.”

  “What the fuck? Why did you come out here if Isabella was missing? Get the hell out of here!” Salvatore hisses.

  I start to charge down the hallway, running the quickest I can down the stairs and out the front of the hospital. The hired hand I have driving me around was instructed to wait in the parking lot so I rush over to the car and hop in the backseat.

  “I need you to take me back to the private airfield. I have to fly out of here as soon as possible. If you step on it, I’ll make your payday worthwhile.” I say, causing the driver to cock a brow in the rearview mirror.

  “You got it, boss.”

  Chapter 20

  Marcel

  When I arrive back in New York City I land to a text message to meet up at Ion and Mariana’s house. Supposedly Christian Steele and the Skulls are going to meet me there. It calms my nerves a bit to know we have an army of our own, made up of the best allies we’ve ever had. I would never say the Steele family has been an ally of ours, but times seem to be changing when it comes to that. However the Skulls have been for a few years now.

  Thankfully New York drivers are the craziest, and quickest on the damn planet. Within thirty minutes I’m pulling up to the brownstone where our King and Queen live with their two children and run up the stairs, not even bothering to knock as I approach the door. I simply open it and walk right in.

  I’m met with one of the security guards watching over the Petran family, “You’re lucky I knew who you were and didn’t shoot you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Save me the speech and tell me where everyone is.”

  “They were upstairs shuffled out of Ion’s office.”

  I know my way around the house at this point so I go up the stairwell and head toward Ion’s office, seeing a long line of rugged men in cuts as well as our men who are in full suits. Not only do I see our hired help, but three more men who stick out from the crowd are here as well. Two of them are practically identical, and then I see that from the side they are identical. Although, one has a beard which sets him apart from the other. These two must be the famous Logan and Jordan Steele. The man in the middle with his hands on Ion’s desk isn’t a Steele brother, though.

  No. He’s different and the way he carries himself proves that.

  “Fuck waiting for your man. My pregnant wife is missing. We know where she is and both of the women could be in danger. My son is at home asking me where his mother is and I can’t give him an answer. Fuck this!” He turns toward Christian, “We move in now. Madigan could be dead.”

  “Both of the women could be dead, Reggie. We needed to wait for the manpower so we did.”

  “No. You waited for one fucking man. One man isn’t going to save these women. We should’ve moved in an hour ago but we’ve been twiddling our thumbs while two of our people are going through God knows what.” Reggie screams into the room, looking to Ion, Mariana and then to the Steele brothers.

  “Calm your man down, Christian. We have more to discuss before we charge in against a common enemy like Franco Falcone.” Ion states in an authoritative tone. Our king is no one to fuck around with.

  “There is nothing more to discuss. We go in rescue the girls and pop a few bad guys.” Reggie argues, which causes him to get the bearded man’s hand placed on his chest, pushing him back.

  “Reggie, we all want Madigan home . . . but you can’t act like this. If we do something wrong she will die. Surely you understand that.”

  “Fuck this, Jordan. Fuck all of this.” Reggie shoves the brother down onto the ground, causing the entire room to shift their focus on the fight breaking out in front of us. The Skulls back up against the wall, keeping out of this personal matter and all of our hired men look to our king for his order. Ion lifts his hand, which means he’s allowing them to play it out.

  Jordan brings his fist up and slams it against the side of Reggie’s face, causing there to be a decent sounding pop coming from the man. Reggie cranks his neck and stares blankly at him. “Is that all you got, bitch? This is my wife you’re talking about. If this was Lacey you wouldn’t be acting like this. You’d be in that fucking meat locker, rescuing your woman.”

  “Lacey isn’t my girl.” Jordan fires back, causing him to land a punch again into his brother-in-law.

  “Enough!” Logan roars out, silencing the two men in the scuffle. “We’re going to move forward and stop wasting precious time. Two of our people are taken and we’re going to get them back. Now, Ion, what’re we doing?” Immediately I can tell which Steele brother is the one in charge.

  “We’re ending Franco Falcone’s life here and now. Today, the head will be chopped off this infectious snake of a man.” A round of applause comes in from the bikers. Of course it would be those rowdy bunch.

  “Reed, can you send four or five of your men to the Falcones family estate? You can be a welcoming present for any of them who dare cross us. Make it known New York belongs to the Romanians now. If you have free time, feel free to fuck everything up in that luxurious home of theirs.”

  I see a late-thirty something man nod. He has a black shirt on under his cut, but you can tell the man works out. He’s pure fucking muscle, a beast. But then again, there’s a red headed man in his group who’s twice his size. Now he’s a fucking monster. “It would be my pleasure. Seamus, Dmitri, Butch and Pain, come with me.” Four men fall out after their Prez, following a few of the Clans hands. They know where the Falcones live and will lead the group straight to them.

  “Now, as for the rest of you. We’re all going to the meat locker, locked and loaded, ready for action. We’re ending Franco today. Take no prisoners. Shoot them all down. I’m done playing mister nice guy. War is not the time to show your heart, it’s time to show your iron fists. Godspeed, and good luck.”

  Ion’s eyes lock with mine for a moment. Silently, he’s wishing me the best in getting to Isabella as soon as possible. I take his slight nod as my authorization to move ahead of the group and rush to get my woman.

  It’s showtime.

  Chapter 21

  Isabella

  Franco wasn’t bluffing when he said he’d make sure I suffered. Every single thing I’ve felt over the last day has been agonizing. The past twenty four hours there have been men in this room, using me in whatever way they could because their boss allowed it.

  But when Madigan and I have been alone I made sure I spoke to her. So
mehow, by the grace of God she’s still alive. Even with all that blood drizzling down her legs onto the floor she’s still alive. I truly don’t know how. Any other person would’ve bled out by now. I’m no doctor or anything but I’ve seen my fair share of medical tv dramas.

  I lean my head back against the metal of the refrigerator and take in slow, deep breaths. Whenever it’s quiet I try to relax, to give myself silent motivation to continue on. Sometimes I’ll tell myself we’ll get rescued and other times I internally berate myself for thinking that way, knowing the likelihood is Madigan will bleed out in front of my very eyes and I will become this breeder sex slave for Franco, giving him numerous children before I’m graced with his death. Even then, I’ll probably end up dying when he does. His sons wouldn’t dare turn me back out on the streets knowing what I’d been through. I’d only be one thing for them —a liability.

  The sound of the latch on the door opening again causes me to open my eyes, ready to face whatever is about to unfold. It’s been a day so no more of Franco’s men can touch me anymore. I find relief in knowing that. Every part of me is sore, from my shoulders down to my legs. A couple of the men got off on beating me with hanging pieces of meat and now my skin is starting to turn purple.

  “Teresa, are you awake?” I hear the snickering laughter of no one else than Franco Falcone himself. Only as he comes into view I see he isn’t alone.

  He has Lupo with him. Part of me feels weirded out he brought Lupo and not Alfred. Alfred seems to be the most like his father out of the bunch. While I understand punishing those who tried to harm your family, all Alfred did was make me drink pigs blood. Franco is a completely different type of fucked up. He takes the cake over his sons.