by Bianca Cole
“Put your phone away,” I order, standing so close to her she jumps.
I can’t help but smirk at the satisfaction I feel that deep down, she is scared of me, no matter how much she tries to hide it.
Aida spins around and meets my gaze with confidence that I rarely see anyone look at me with. “Why should I?” She shakes her head. “We’ve spent forty minutes in a vehicle together, and the first words you say to me are put your phone away.”
I narrow my eyes. “What did you expect from me?”
She glares at me with such fire in those dark brown eyes I wonder if she has no fear at all. “Nothing.” She turns her back on me and starts to type on her phone again, explicitly defying my direct order.
I grab her shoulder and spin her around, forcing my other hand around her throat hard enough to shock her. “Listen carefully.” Her eyes remain full of that burning, hot hatred that seems to have been born before we met and stoked during the car ride here. “I don’t like disobedience. You’re going to be my wife, and that means you’ll do what I say when I say.”
She tries to fight away from me, but I hold firm.
“Do you understand?” I ask.
Her eyes are full of fire that makes my cock painfully hard in my tight boxer briefs. My attraction to the feisty brunette is unexpected. “Let go of me,” she says calmly. It only irritates me how calm she is.
I grab hold of her wrists and forcefully drag her toward my home. This woman needs to learn how to respect the man who owns her, but it’s not something I intend to teach her out here for everyone to see.
“Fucking let go,” she spits, fighting against me with all the strength she has. I’m stronger as I drag her toward the door fighting.
Piero opens the front door. “Sir, do you need help?” His eyes are wide as he looks at the feral, fighting woman I’m set to marry.
I shake my head. “No. Out of my way.”
He steps aside as I drag Aida up the stairs forcefully toward her bedroom. It’s already become clear that she is going to make this hard on herself.
“You are embarrassing yourself, princess,” I say through gritted teeth.
She stills against me. “Embarrassing myself?” Her voice is full of disbelief. “Do you think I give a shit what anyone here thinks of me?”
I grind my teeth together as I reach the door of her room, right next to mine. “Open the door,” I order, holding her wrists firmly toward the door.
“Open it yourself,” she replies with hardly a moment of hesitation.
The irritation building inside of me is dangerous. I hold Aida’s wrists with one hand and then force open the door with the other, pushing her inside. For the first time since we entered the house, I let go of her to give me a chance to shut the door and lock it behind us.
I draw in a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself down before turning to face my fiancé. “I think it’s clear that we are going to have some serious problems if you don’t learn to do as you’re told, Aida.”
Her head is still held high, and her gorgeous chestnut-brown eyes are full of confidence. She’s either fucking fearless or willfully ignorant about the type of man she is dealing with—only time will tell which.
“Seems like it,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not your possession. I’m a human being with rights.”
I laugh at that. “Rights?” I shake my head. “Oh, Aida, you have no rights here.” I step toward her, and for the first time, I see a flicker of fear in her chestnut depths—a fear I long to uncover. “You’ll bend to my will because everyone does,” I say, grabbing hold of her throat hard enough to block her airways. “Do you understand me?”
I hold her gaze, which is determined, despite her fear. She doesn’t answer me or panic over my firm grip around her pretty, little throat. I long to introduce this beauty to the darkest pleasures that warp my sick and twisted mind. Pain is something I relish doling out. Whether the recipient is receptive or not doesn’t matter.
I let go of her throat and grab both of her hips, spinning her around. Her firm, round ass presses into my crotch so she can feel how hard I am. “It’s time for your first lesson, little virgin,” I murmur into her ear, making her tense against me.
For the first time, I’ve hit a nerve. I force my fiancé toward the bed, and once the front of her thighs hit it, I put pressure on her back.
She bends over the bed, and the skirt of her skimpy little dress rides up. I feel my cock pulsing against the strict confines of my boxer briefs and pants. Aida is wearing a little black thong that drives me insane. I pull the skirt of her dress higher, and she reaches around to pull it back down.
I spank her ass hard. “Don’t move,” I growl.
She squirms still, and I realize the only way I’m going to stop her is to tie her down. I link my finger through the loop of my tie and undo it before pulling her wrists roughly behind her back. Aida freezes as I wrap the silk fabric tightly wrapped around her two wrists, binding her.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she asks, panic flooding her tone.
I grab hold of her hips once I’ve finished tying her binding. “I’m going to teach you a lesson, angel,” I purr into her ear.
I unbuckle my belt and pull it from my pants, folding it over in my hand. “Girls that don’t obey need to be punished.”
She remains silent and oddly still in front of me. Aida doesn’t beg me not to hurt her or tell me to stop. It’s as though she’s accepted her fate. I set my eyes on her creamy thighs and tight, round ass cheeks that make my cock hard as nails.
I grab her waist-length hair, forcing her to arch her back. “How does it feel to be at my mercy?” I ask, wanting her to break.
“Disgusting,” she spits back, the fire in her voice still as clear as before.
I growl softly, cupping her through the thin fabric of her thong. “Is that right? I bet you will be soaking wet like a needy little virgin by the time I’m through with you, princess.”
Her thighs quiver at my attention, proving the effect I have on her. I bring the leather of my belt down hard over her ass, making her yelp in pain.
“Next time, you should think again before you disobey me.” I bring the leather down on her other ass cheek, stinging it a deep red. The sight of her at my mercy has more effect on me than I’d expect. Maybe it’s because of her reluctance to be with me. It’s the first time a woman I’ve encountered has stood up to me the way she does.
It’s a sick thought. I want Aida because she doesn’t want me. My hands remain tight around my belt as I bring it down onto her ass again hard. As though she has got used to the pain or doesn’t want to give me the satisfaction of crying out, she’s entirely silent through the rest of my punishment.
Once I’m done, I feel satisfaction at how red her ass is. The faint hint of bruising starts to show through on her skin too. A mark of ownership. Aida belongs to me, and soon enough, she will learn what that means.
I tease my finger through her pussy, groaning when I feel how wet she is. The little virgin princess likes being punished, which makes walking away from her much harder. I untie the silk necktie from her wrists and leave her bent over the bed, soaking wet and red-raw.
Piero is waiting for me in the basement of my home. I see the pool of blood under the chair where Luigi sits, and I feel irritated that it wasn’t me that spilled it. “Has he said anything yet?” I ask.
Piero nods. “He fucked up. Pure and simple.”
I run a hand over my beard and narrow my eyes. “You’re certain he had no ties with the assholes that stole our drugs?”
“Very certain, sir. I tortured him thoroughly, but if you wish to continue, then there would be no harm in it.”
I tilt my head to the side, looking at the piece of shit that lost me two-million dollars of cargo. “I’m not sure he’d withstand much more, Piero.” I crack my neck. “Leave me with him.”
Piero bows his head and walks away. My capo is the only man in this world
that I truly trust. I’m not one for having friends. Life as a don of one of the most powerful organized crime groups in America is solitary, and I like it that way.
Luigi is half-dead, which irritates me. Aida got in the way of my work, but Piero did a good job in my absence. “You’ve cost me a lot of money, Luigi,” I say.
His head snaps up at the sound of my voice. He squints at me through his busted-up eyes. “Sir, I’m so sorry, please—”
“Silence,” I order, shaking my head. “I hate beggars, so keeping quiet is advisory.”
Luigi shuts his mouth. I notice a wet patch stain his dark pants. This guy is a fucking embarrassment to my organization, and I’m glad his fuck up has weeded him out. I don’t deal with a lot of the guys that work for me on a day-to-day basis.
I pull my knife out of the sheath on my belt and approach him. “You cost the organization more than two million dollars. Do you know what happens to people that lose me money?”
He can hardly look me in the eye. “They pay a heavy price.”
I grab his throat hard and squeeze so he can’t breathe. “It’s not a heavy price to pay when you lose me money and then try to hide.” I drag the knife across his arm cutting him deeply. “You’re a coward for not coming straight to me and explaining what happened.” I let go of his throat. “Maybe if you had, I would have let you live.” I tilt my head to the side. “Although, it’s unlikely.”
It’s more likely that I would have killed him quickly with a bullet to the head. Instead, he’s being tortured because he ran.
“Milo, please—”
I stab the knife into his leg forcefully, stopping his pathetic pleas. Instead, he squeals like the little bitch he is as blood paints the air. I must have hit the main artery, which will speed this process up.
“Do you think I’m the kind of man who would give in to a plea for mercy?”
Luigi shakes his head, whining. “No, sir, but I’ve always been loyal to the Mazzeos. I served your father—”
I grab his throat, stopping him. “Don’t fucking speak about my father.” Luigi’s face pales as I slowly choke the life out of him, enjoying the power rush it gives me. There’s nothing more exhilarating than taking away the life of someone who has fucked me over.
I watch as he fights for life, trying desperately to hold on. “Give up, Luigi. Death is your only path.”
I keep my hand hard around his neck, feeling my wrist weaken slightly. The last tendrils of life slowly fade from his wide eyes as he slips into the afterlife. Once I’m sure he’s gone, I let go and stretch my wrist.
I’m angry when I see the splattering of blood on my white shirt. Piero will handle the body, so I leave the room. Piero is waiting outside dutifully.
“It’s done. Clean it up,” I say, not waiting for his response, as I walk out of the basement.
It’s time to make preparations for dinner tonight with my fiancé. If our first encounter is anything to go on, things will be anything but plain sailing. I smile to myself. I love a challenge.
5
Aida
My father’s betrayal is worse than I ever imagined. He told Milo I’m a virgin, which is true, but in the hands of a man like him, it’s ammunition. Milo is as bad as I expected. Perhaps I’m not as shocked as I should be after what he did to me because it’s the type of behavior that I expected. I lie on my back in my bedroom or prison cell.
Milo locked the door after spanking my ass red-raw and hasn’t returned in hours. My phone rings, and I can’t help but smile when I see Gia is video calling me. “Hey Gia,” I say, picking up the call.
She frowns at the camera, looking angry. “I can’t believe you left for America without telling me.”
I sigh heavily. “I told you in my text that my father drugged me on the side of a cliff only an hour after I left the beach.” I shake my head. “How was I supposed to say goodbye?”
“I always knew your dad was an asshole,” Gia says, running a hand through her hair. “Hot, but also an asshole.”
I wrinkle my nose, hating the way Gia calls my father hot. “He’s not hot. He’s my father. I’ve told you not to say that.”
She laughs. “Sorry, Aida. It’s the truth.”
“Is that Aida?” Siena asks, coming into view of the camera. “How are you doing?”
I think on the question for a minute.
How am I doing?
I guess I’ve kept myself level-headed, considering I’ve been drugged and kidnapped by my father and shipped to a man who has no qualms about sexually abusing the woman he’s engaged to. “Not great,” I answer.
“What is your fiancé like?” Gia asks.
The mention of him angers me even though I know Gia and Siena aren’t aware of the kind of man I’ve been shipped over to. They know my father is involved in the mafia, but they aren’t a part of the criminal world. “Horrible,” I say as it’s the only word I can think of to describe him.
Gia’s brow furrows. “Has he hurt you?”
I bite my lip, wondering whether not to tell them how dire my situation is. Milo Mazzeo is the definition of evil. He has no morals. I mean, the guy laughed in my face when I told him I had rights. A shiver races down my spine as I remember the tone of his laugh.
“Aida?” Gia pushes.
I shake my head. “Not yet, no. He’s not a nice man.”
Gia sighs. “I’m half tempted to head to your house and tell your asshole of a father off for shipping you away.”
My stomach twists at the thought. “Don’t you dare, Gia. He’s not a nice man either, and you don’t want to piss him off.” I’d hate to think what my father might do to Gia if she approached him. Most people that argue with my father end up dead or tortured, at least.
“I won’t.” She holds up her hands. “I don’t understand why he’d do this to you.”
That makes two of us. Ever since my mother’s death, my father was more distant but always doted on me. He would take me out for special occasions and treat me often than not. I can’t believe it was all a ruse to keep me close and sell me off when the time was right. “He told me I remind him too much of my mother.”
Siena’s eyes widen. “That’s a terrible thing to say. I’m so sorry, Aida. I wish we were there to help you through this.”
“Can we come for the wedding?” Gia asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t think it will be allowed.”
“Why not?” Siena asks.
My heart skips a beat as I hear footsteps nearing the door. “I’ve got a feeling someone is coming. I better go, guys.”
Siena and Gia both look worried. “Keep in touch. We want to see you as soon as we’re allowed to visit.”
I swallow hard, knowing that might never be. “Of course. Bye.” I cancel the call as Milo flings open the door.
He stands in the doorway with blood splattered on his shirt. He has no signs of injury, so it is someone else’s. “You’ll join me now for dinner.”
I shake my head. “I’m not hungry.” I meet his gaze, which looks a little psychotic. The things I’ve heard about him suggest he may well be.
“Who were you talking to?”
Shit. He heard me.
“Friends from Sicily.”
He narrows his eyes. “I don’t want you talking to anyone without me present. Do you understand?”
My brow furrows. “Why not?”
His square jaw clenches with frustration, and he takes two steps into my room. “Let me be very clear with you, Miss. Alteri. When I give you an order, you follow it without question. When I ask you to join me for dinner, you join me for dinner even if you aren’t hungry. You know what I’ll do if you disobey me, and next time I won’t be so gentle.”
I stare dumbstruck at the man I’m supposed to marry. “Gentle?” I stand from the bed, wincing as I bend over and lift my dress. “You call this gentle? I’m bruised and red fucking raw.”
There’s a low, beast-like growl behind me. “I wouldn’t bend over like that if
I were you, Aida,” he warns, voice husky and raw.
I swallow hard and stand up, smoothing down my dress. The man I’m dealing with is as twisted as I expected.
Excitement pulses to life between my thighs at the thought of him punishing me again. It was oddly arousing, which makes me more disappointed in myself than I can explain.
“Fine, let’s have dinner,” I say, turning around and facing him.
His eyes are frantic with a mix of rage and arousal—the second shocks me. There are a few moments as he stares at me like a mad man in silence, and I wonder if I’ve pushed him too far. I don’t know what it is about him ordering me, but I automatically get the urge to disobey him.
He breathes deeply and nods. “Follow me to the dining room.” He turns around and walks stiffly out of the room. I follow him down the corridor and to the top of the stairs, which he descends. His home is similarly lavish to my father’s home in Sicily.
It’s pretentious, but these men are all the same. He leads the way down a corridor and stops in front of solid wood double doors, throwing them open to reveal a large dining room with an antique hardwood table in the center. I’m disappointed that the places are set next to each other rather than opposite ends of the table. It means I have to spend dinner way closer to him than I am comfortable with, especially after what he did to me earlier.
Milo pulls out the chair to the right of the head place setting. “Sit.”
I bite my tongue and sit in the seat without a word. Milo takes his seat, and almost on cue, a woman enters the room with a trolley and silver platters on it.
I watch as she brings the food to us. “Would you like me to serve you, sir?” She asks
He shakes his head. “Leave us.”
It appears he’s as rude with his staff as he is with his future wife.
The lady bows her head before walking away and leaving me alone with this beast of a man. He stands and pulls the lid off the platter to reveal a rare steak. My stomach churns, and it dawns on me that my father hasn’t told Milo that I’m a vegetarian.
