My sharp drawn in gasp alerts them to my presence. Head twisting, the man’s unwelcoming gaze pins mine. The same aloof power that gleams in Kay’s shines in his. I barely register tanned skin, dark hair. A flash of white teeth as his lips curl up in an unpleasant grin. All my focus is fastened on the glinting silver of the weapon in his hand.
Laura’s grey eyes widen in panic. “Run, Evelyn, he’s here for you!”
Her warning barely leaves her lips before the blade is thrust into her elderly body. Blood blooms, flooding the material on the front of her dress. Expression twisting in agony, the cry that leaves her wrinkled throat is desolate. The paralysis that’s gripped me jolts away. Hand jutting out, I take a step to aid her.
“There you are, puttana,” her attacker growls in a low thick accented voice. “I told her I would find you.” Ripping the blade from his victim, he pulls a face as if her weakness repulses him.
Mind racing, tears prick my eyes as I see her crumple to the kitchen floor. My thoughts hover between my own welfare and concern for the sweet woman. She could still be alive. I could prevent her from bleeding out. The healer in me urges me to find a way to reach her.
Gaze darting to find a weapon, my fingers fasten around a rolling pin still dusted with flour. “Get the fuck away from her.”
Dark eyes glitter at me with amusement. “Not afraid, Gattina? You will be.”
A gloved hand covers my mouth before I can scream, another snaking round from behind to capture my waist. Material tickles my nose. Sweet and chemically, a scent fills my nostrils. Everything becomes fuzzy. Limbs going out from beneath me, I find myself drifting away through emptiness.
Kay
A nudge to my ribs has me jerking awake. Eyes snapping open, my head pounds with pain. Light blazing from above has me wincing. Disorientation overwhelms me for a moment. The world around me is surreal until my spinning mind latches onto solid facts. I can’t move. Metal, pinches tightly around my wrists and ankles. The smooth surface I’m lying on is stone cold against my bare skin.
I can smell perfume. Overpowering, it’s woven into the scent of bleach.
“Ciao, Kay.”
My gaze bounces left to the woman who I now know is the mastermind behind everything. The catalyst of my arrival in Rome. Nothing is out of place since I saw her last. Not one burgundy hair on her elegant head. Winking in the stark light shining down from above the diamonds fastened around her slender neck gleam.
“Chiara.”
Tapping one long red perfectly manicured nail thoughtfully against her matching crimson lips, she smiles. “Not surprised to see me?”
“You’re the one who set me up.” Taking in the measure of the room, I note the surgical equipment on a tray. Men packing weapons stand silently, watching. I don’t recognize any of them as any of Paulo’s. Has she and her son been recruiting muscle behind his back? How long has she been planning this takeover, and has she succeeded?
“I did,” she confirms, solidifying my suspicions. “And even the men I hired failed to kill you, which just shows me my concern for my son is valid.”
Twisting my wrists, I test the strength of my restraints. “What concern? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“It’s been clear to me for many years Mauro isn’t the kind of son Paulo wanted. He thinks he’s too arrogant and self-absorbed. You on the other hand, the boy he was happy to adopt after your parents were murdered, showed the potential to become the heir he’s always dreamed of. He made you into his perfect solider. You’re quite the deadeye or so my husband has bragged. An expert marksman who never misses a target.” Bitterness is thick in her tone. She doesn’t even try to hide her feelings toward me.
A sinking feeling starts in the pit of my stomach. I’m pinned like a bug to a board. There’s no way to reach anything I can use as a weapon, which leaves me helpless.
“I’m not interested in taking Paulo’s place. I’ve already found my calling,” I tell her, hiding my panic.
This doesn’t look good. No one knows where I am. Gawain will know something’s wrong after our phone call was cut short, but even taking a private plane, he won’t touch down in Rome for hours. I doubt Bors is any closer.
Slinking closer to the table, Chiara leans over, the silky material covering her breasts pulling tight showing off her curves. “I saw how my husband’s affection slowly transferred from his own son to you, the cuckoo in our nest. The clever child who was eager to please and learn. After so many years making sure none of his mistresses’ bastards survived, he chooses someone who isn’t even his blood.” Reaching out to caress my jaw gently, the tips of her nails drag over my stubbled cheek. “You’ve grown even more handsome than you were as a boy.”
The purr in her last sentence is suggestive. How her fingers linger subtly with their touch.
Jolting away from her, my lips curl in a sneer. “I’m not fucking you, Chiara. I wouldn’t then, and I sure as hell won’t now.”
“Do you ever wonder why Paulo took you in?” Cupping the nape of my neck, she pulls me close, her lips brushing over mine feather soft. “He was in love with your mother.”
Recoiling at her touch, I avert my face. “Bullshit.”
“He planned to marry her. Then she met your father and only had eyes for him. It’s the reason he took you in when they were murdered. You should have been his son, Kay.” Her mouth glides over my cheek, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses that I strain to escape. “Of course, you shouldn’t have survived. My man was supposed to kill you all, but you managed to hide like the little runt you were.”
My stomach turns rigid. For a brief second, I feel my heart stop before taking off on a faster beat. “You’re responsible?”
My voice is raw with old pain. Loss. The horror of a young boy who’d lost everything he’d loved.
“What did you expect?” Straightening up, her gaze turns hard and hostile. “Even when your mother was married, Paulo fawned over her. He only married me to bear him a son. Never gave me an ounce of affection like he did her. I was nothing but his whore to breed. My son should be head of the family. It’s Mauro’s birth right,” she tells me as if trying to justify her jealous actions. Chiara’s brown sharp gaze doesn’t wave from my face. “Paulo still has no clue I was behind it after all these years. He still mourns the death of your mother. It's pathetic.”
Rage boils up through my veins. Thick, searing it throbs with a need for revenge. I’m used to taking lives through the lens of my sniper, alone and at a distance. With this woman, I want my hands wrapped around her slender neck. I need to feel her life leak out of her body as she dies. Consequences be damned.
I don’t reply. A nerve ticks in my jaw, the only sign of the emotions I keep in check just below the surface.
Leaning down, her lips brush the shell of my ear, her breath warm. “You will be on your knees before me soon, Kay, broken, destroyed. Then, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.” Clicking her fingers, she signals the short, scrawny man lingering by the wall. He isn’t much to look at. It’s his eyes, though, that give him away. Unsettling, lacking in conscience.
“I want you to take your time. Enjoy your work, Francesco,” she advises. “I know you pride yourself on what you can do, and this canvas will be one of your masterpieces.”
The torturer’s expression lights up like a child given a Christmas gift early. Tongue darting out, he licks his thin lips in anticipation. “I will not fail you, Signora Jilani. I promise you will see some of my best work!”
“Bene. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a spa date I have no intention of missing. I’ll return in a few hours to check on your progress.” Giving me a smug smirk, she sweeps from the room with the click of her expensive high heels.
Shuffling to a CD playing, the reedy male taps it on. The soft straining notes of classical music begin to play through the speakers. A piece I recognize but can’t name right then.
I’ve been tortured before. My pain threshold is high, but I know eventually
everyone breaks. If this bastard is as skilled as I suspect, the next few hours are going to be more than unpleasant for me. I watch his hand run over the tray of cold metal tools. Selecting a scalpel, he turns to where I’m prone and bound to the table.
“I see I’m not the first to leave their mark on you,” he notes with disappoint. “But still, you have a strong body. Beautiful in fact. You must work out a lot to keep in shape.” Drawing the blade along the skin of my shoulder, blood wells from the long thin incision. The bite of pain has me gritting my teeth. Darkness swirls through my mind. An urge to take the blade and shove it through his beady little eye. Patience. The second this arsehole makes a slip, I’ll make my move to end him.
Evelyn
The first thing I’m aware of as I wake is the coolness of the air. Next is the sting of my split, swollen lip when I lick it. Coppery, faint, the taste of blood meets my tongue. There’s a brief recollection of struggling. Pain erupting through my face before blackness. Eyes rolling lazily open, I rake my fingers through my tangled hair, brushing it away from my face. Blinking rapidly, it takes me a second to adjust to the brightness of the light.
The room is stark. Grey concrete walls close me in on either side. The only exit is blocked by a large imposing shadow. Leaning against the door frame, the man who’d been in the flat stands, watching me dispassionately. Handsome features cold and barren.
His eyes travel over me suggestively. “I see the appeal. Why Kay would like you. Your pretty, pale skin and big, blue eyes. You English whores fuck differently than Italian girls. You pretend you don’t like it rough, but secretly you get off on it.”
Wincing as I sit up, the springs on the cot I’m lying on squeak as I move. “Where is he?”
“That’s exactly what I want to know, pretty lady.” Lips curling back, his smile makes my stomach dip in apprehension. “You’re going to tell me everything you know.”
They don’t have him. Thoughts accelerate inside my head. I want them to slow down. Stop threatening to send me into full blind panic but they won’t. Kay’s alive. Clutching onto that one certainty, it prevents the world around me from spinning out of control.
“Up,” the stranger commands.
Recoiling I flatten my spine to the wall. “No.”
Amusement flashes in his dark eyes. “Feisty, hmm? I’ll work that out of you.”
Stalking across the room, he snatches up my arm before I can escape, hauling me off the lumpy mattress. His fingers dig punishingly into the flesh of my bicep. Crying out in pain, I’m marched toward the door.
Men stand watching us as we enter a larger room. The lack of emotion in their eyes makes me shiver in apprehension. I likened Kay to a lion. These males look more like hyenas. Scattered around the edges of the space, they observe me for weakness. Scavengers, ready to pick me a part the second I show vulnerability.
“Just let me go. There’s nothing I can tell you.” My tone is firm.
The man dragging me along chuckles unpleasantly. “She thinks she can make demands. Always the way of women, huh?” he tells his minions. Grabbing my chin, he forces my face to his. “We take what we want, puttana.”
I’m not prepared for the back-handed blow. Staggering sideways, black dots dance before my eyes my cheek, throbbing.
“Where is he?”
Fear floods my system, icy and paralyzing. “I…I don’t know.”
Brutal hands grab me, tossing me around from man to man. Grabbing, groping there’s not one part of my body they don’t contaminate with their assault. Slapping and clawing at them does nothing to save me.
My heartbeat turns erratic as their leader takes a menacing step toward me. “Once I’m finished with you, every man here will get a taste of your pussy. Then you’ll give us the answers we want.”
I’m thrust forward and down by his strength, my knees striking the concrete floor. I try to mask my terror. Eyes steady on his, I can’t hide the fine tremor in my limbs. Moving in front of me, he draws his knife from the sheath at his belt.
“Suck my cock, or I’ll give you a permanent smile from ear to ear.” With slow deliberate purpose, he moves the blade from one side to the other in front of me. “I’ll mark up that pretty face of yours so bad that no one will be able to stand the sight of you.”
His gaze bores into mine. I see the same darkness I’d seen in Kay’s. The instinct that had told me Kay wouldn’t hurt me whispers warningly this man will. If I fight this, he’s going to cause me pain and enjoy it. I see it in the smirk that creeps up his lips.
Reaching for his belt buckle, one handed, he quickly unfastens it before tugging it down with his underwear in one go. His cock bobs free, the tip purple and bulbous. The crown meets my trembling lips. Screwing my eyes shut, I open my mouth, the salty taste of him already invading my senses. Gripping the back of my head, his fingers twist in the strands of my hair, holding me in place. I have no choice but to accept him when his hard-pulsating member forces it way down my throat.
“Oh yeah, that’s it.” His throaty purr has me shuddering in revulsion. “Just like that.”
Pulling me down by my hair, he has me whimpering as he reaches my limit. Using my locks like reins, he fucks my face aggressively. Gasping, I resist the urge to bite down. Know he’ll keep his word and cut me if I do. A drop of bitter fluid reaches my tongue. He’s close to finishing.
“This bitch knows how to take cock,” he boasts loudly enough for everyone to hear. “But my cum isn’t going to go down her lovely throat. I want to fill her with it somewhere else first.”
Releasing his grasp eagerly, he steps to drag me up by my shoulders. His words register. Bile rises as his taste lingers in my mouth. Panic explodes.
Shrieking, I claw at his eyes. “Let me go!”
My nails leave bright red angry streaks in his skin either side of his straight nose at my frenzied attack.
“Bitch.” The blow of his large hand over my cheek stuns me. “Hold her arms.”
Gathering around, the men clutch my arms as I struggle. Lifting me bodily, I’m slammed against the flat surface of the table. Knees bent and legs roughly prised apart, I’m left open and exposed. The sides of my cotton dress are ripped apart sending the little white pearl buttons scattering to the ground.
Features twisted with savage lust, the stranger flips up my fragile bra baring my breasts. “Where is Kay?” Teeth clamp down on the soft rounded curve of one. They sink painfully deep as he bites hard, and I know for sure he’s left his mark.
“Please no...” My plea is a sob. Tears break from the corners of my eyes, cascading down my cheeks. He leaves a crescent shaped pattern where ever he can reach, branding me.
“Not so fierce, now, are you, huh?” His voice is filled with excitement. Shuffling forward, he raises my skirt roughly. “You know you want it, you dirty slut.”
I scream long and hard. The only reaction it gets is laughter from the watching men.
He’s going to rape me.
The knowledge is just as sharp as his blade. Heart hammering against my chest, I twist futilely. Flinching when I feel the press of his cock seeking entry to my body, a guttural shriek of denial burst from my throat.
“Mauro, what the fuck is this?” A commanding voice inquires in English.
The man between my legs freezes at the sound, a look of shock rippling across his expression.
“Shit Papa, I didn’t know you were coming this afternoon,” he replies nervously, yanking up his pants and refastening them. “I thought you were resting after the incident with the car.”
The cruel hands keeping me immobile disappear. Clutching the sides of my ripped dress, I slid off the table. I’m shaking so badly I can barely stand. Mauro’s body shields me from view. Chest heaving with erratic breathes, I stagger away from him. He’s vile. My skin burns with the imprint of his filthy hands.
An older man stands watching us. A frown mars his distinguished features, grey peppering the blackness of his hair. One arm in a white sling clos
e to his chest, there’s a purple bruise decorating above his eye. Four large muscular men flank him on either side. Bodyguards.
“Get back here, puttana, like a good girl,” Mauro hisses, curving his arm around my waist and pulling me back into his chest.
“Leave me alone.” Elbowing him, I try to break free. I don’t want him touching me.
Jerking me violently, he imprisons me against his side. Face tipping his lips brush the shell of my ear making me shudder in disgust.
“I haven’t finished with you yet,” he mutters harshly.
“That son of a bitch, Kay, tries to blow me up, and I find you with your dick in a whore. If you think a small explosion is going to keep me bedridden, then think again. You should be out there looking for him.” The older man’s attention skips over me before looking away dismissively.
“She knows about Kay,” Mauro assures him quickly. “His whore. He had her hidden at that old flat he thinks no one knows about, guarded by an old couple. I was just learning his whereabouts so I could bring you the bastard’s head.” A slow smug smile grows on his face.
Dark brown eyes land on me thoughtfully. “I need to let off some steam. I haven’t had a decent blow job in weeks. She can come play with me while you find him. I’ll get the answers we need out of her.”
My shoulder sag with relief. The thought of sucking this old man’s cock is distasteful, but if I’m being taken from here, I have a better chance of escaping.
Mauro’s expression falters as if he wasn’t expecting his father’s reply.
“Problem?” The older man inquires with a lift of an eyebrow.
“No, Papa. But you should know this little gattina has claws.” He gestures at the crimson streaking marks I’ve left either side of his nose.
His father chuckles “Bene. I’ll take measures to make sure I don’t get scratched.” Holding out his good arm, he gestures toward us with a finger. “Bring her to the car.”
A hand on my spine directs me toward the door. Legs still wobbly, I clasp the ripped sides of my dress to my chest as if it can offer a barrier between me and the brutal horror of what I’m enduring. We move into an empty corridor. Up some steps and I get a glimpse of a shadowy packed warehouse. Fresh air filters in through an open door. Sunlight just beyond. Freedom.
His Salvation: Cavalieri Della Morte Page 11