“Ivan,” he says, the sudden sound making me jerk.
“Yes, sir,” comes a disembodied voice through a loudspeaker.
“You can bring in the first.”
The first? The first what? I sway, feeling as if I’ll faint. A low rumble from Salvatore makes me freeze up, realizing that if I move, he’ll punish me. If I question him, he’ll punish me. If I beg, he’ll punish me.
I stepped into the lion’s den, and I’ll be devoured. I just made the biggest mistake in my life, and that’s no small feat.
Chapter 6
Luciano
Chloe Becker stepped into my office. Pretty women rarely come to my house uninvited, so that was a pleasant surprise. Especially since that means I won’t have to go looking for her.
She’s not particularly pretty right now. Her long, blonde hair is an unwashed, tangled mess. Her face is blue and swollen, she can only open one eye properly, the other only opens a sliver. Her lip has a scab over a wound, and that laceration in her eyebrow is bound to leave a scar.
I saw her picture a few days ago, though, when the plan was to eliminate her, and she’s a real beauty. She’s hiding away behind a desk job, and not even in a workplace with colleagues, but in her own home. She also used to work at the daycare my son attended a couple of years back. I had Matteo dig a little and couldn’t find anything on her. It’s as if she came from nowhere and it intrigues me. People don’t just appear out of nothing. She’s decidedly American, and there’s got to be something, birth certificate, driver’s license, hospital bills, old addresses. Something.
Having her standing before me, broken, but not beaten suddenly makes me want to see what it will take to completely bring her down.
When she undresses, wincing with every move, uncovering a sexy, lacy bra holding a fantastic rack, and a bandage covering bruises I need to see, my cock reacts on its own accord. Her pain transfers to my groin, her humiliation and forced submission hits me like a freight train running through my chest.
I picture pushing her to her knees and am just about to act on that impulse when I realize it’s time for business. Other business.
I smirk as I push the intercom and tell Ivan to bring in the first. Chloe stiffens, her breath hitching, but doesn’t dare to move. I slapped her without holding back, and I know my palm hurt her ass cheek like a bitch. She’ll obey. She also thinks I’ll bring in a line of grimy men to fuck her until she bleeds and begs, and still she stands there. She’s incredibly dumb if she thinks I had a bunch of men standing by to come in here and do her, but whatever. This will be fun.
My almost-friend, and second in command, Eric has asked to see me and I’m curious as to what he has to say. He was out of the country for a couple of months, got back a week ago. We haven’t had a chance to talk yet. I don’t micromanage him, so I don’t know what he’s been up to.
I fall down on my chair and put my hands behind my head, studying the girl as I wait for my partner. She’s tall. Her thighs are muscular and end with a perfectly rounded ass. With that athletic body it looks as if she’s a runner, maybe she even lifts because the lean muscles playing on her back and arms are well defined. My legs tense as I’m about to get up and rip off that annoying bandage around her chest when the door opens, and Eric Reed enters. I relax again and take him in. He’s tanned, impeccably dressed in a dark gray three-piece suit, as he almost always is. His dirty-blond hair has grown and he looks a bit rough around the edges.
His eyes dart to the naked woman and then back to me as his eyebrows shoot up on his forehead. I wave dismissively. “Sit.”
Eric falls into the chair on his side of the desk. “New plaything? Seems it got a bit rough.”
I glance over at Miss Becker again. She has her back to us and looks an absolute mess. I bet she’d be unrecognizable healed. Sadly she won’t ever heal. She won’t live long enough.
“Ignore her.”
“Luci, I can’t talk shop with some stranger in the room.”
“She won’t be alive to tell. Now what have you been up to?”
The girl flinches and is about to turn.
“Don’t move one fucking inch,” I growl. “I won’t hesitate to add to those wounds. You’ll beg to have Christian have a go at you instead.”
She whimpers but stays in position, her obvious fear transfers straight to my cock. I smother the grin that wants to break through and clear my throat, looking back to Eric who straightens.
“Right,” he says, “I’ve spent some time in Moscow.”
It’s my turn to raise my eyebrows. “Go on.”
“The Russians have had an annoying habit of sneaking into our cities in the south, joining with rogue Mexican dealers and dumping the prices.”
“Coke?”
The girl flinches again. I frown.
“Weapons,” says Eric. “Kalashnikovs.”
“And who’s buying? What’s the distribution chain?”
“Local small-time gangsters. Mainly Latinos. It’s a war. It’s a mess. They have a short life span expectancy down there. Kids assemble the shit, a few pieces here and there, too few to get cop eyes on them.”
Chloe jerks again, as if she wants to chime in, making me glance over at her. I almost want her to disobey because, fuck me, I’d slap that sore ass before I circle my fingers around her throat and fuck her raw. Pulling myself back to the conversation, I turn back to Eric. “Who collects?”
“You’re fucking distracted, Luci. This a bad time?”
I look between him and the girl and smirk. Suddenly I know why I have her standing there naked, even if it wasn’t intentional. Sure, I’m distracted, but it’ll be nothing compared to what my visitors will be. “No. It’s a fucking perfect time. Go on.”
Eric shakes his head. “You and your whores.”
A ripple moves through her body at Eric’s words. She didn’t like that, huh? “Yes. You know what I like.”
Eric scoffs.
“Russians,” I say. “I’m all ears.”
Eric proceeds to brief me about Moscow as I keep an eye on the antique clock standing on a bookshelf to the side. I have a whole slew of people to meet today.
“So we have a contact? An in?” I finally conclude.
“Exactly.”
“Have him come here. We’ll pay the expenses. Set him up at the Hilton, feed him drugs, girls, guys, whatever the fuck he wants. Keep him happy. I want to meet him. Now, if there’s nothing else, I have more meetings. I have the whole fucking afternoon filled.”
Eric stands, his lips curling in an expression of distaste. “I’m happy I don’t live your life.”
“You better not wish for it. Go home and take care of your lady. She was a pain the last couple of weeks you were gone.”
“What’d she do?” Eric’s posture goes rigid as he frowns.
I wave dismissively. “Nothing. You’ve trained her well. It’s that wistful look I just can’t stand. As if she misses you.”
A hint of a smile tilts up one corner of his mouth, then he snorts and turns. “Later, Luci.”
I tilt my chin up at his retreating back as I narrow my eyes. Russians. A somewhat new player to deal with. Well old, but forgotten about by all of us. Stupidly enough. I’m lucky to have Eric, and Ivan, and a few more of my closest men when I can’t have eyes and ears everywhere.
Waiting for Ivan to send in the next man I’m meeting with, I get up and pace the room as I look at the now shivering backside of Chloe Becker. My mind goes to Eric’s woman, Anna Raymond. I wonder what it feels like having someone so devoted to you that they can barely eat when you’re gone. I’ll never experience that. I don’t even know what love feels like. Without noticing where my feet have taken me, I find myself standing a few inches behind Chloe, almost feeling the heat of her skin against my chest. I wonder if I can train someone, break someone so badly, that they’ll become totally and irrevocably dependent on me. Missing me because I’m all they know. I can be tender. When I want. But I need their pain too. I�
��ve never tried to shatter someone long-term, to actually keep them here and break them down, day by day, with pain, lack of sleep, lack of food, the whole brainwashing procedure. I wonder if I’d have the patience.
I think of the night a few days ago, when I worked out in the gym after Christian had woken me up. I had sent the redhead away and regretted it. Could I have someone living here? Being mine, at my disposal night and day? My eyes follow the defined muscles on each side of Chloe’s spine, down to the delectable dimples above her very fuckable ass and my cock stirs. I’d want her to come to me, to beg me, plead with me to take her.
This woman is already broken, her life forfeit. She looks like shit now, but normally she’s a fucking beauty. Could I?
I spin around and stride over to my desk, pushing the button on the intercom. “Ivan.”
“Sir?”
“How did she get here?”
“I’ll find out, sir.”
“Good. My next visitor?”
“He’s late.”
At first, I’m at a loss for words. That’s bold. “Who is he?”
“A Devon Jones.”
I look down on my laptop and type it in. He owes me money. He was supposed to pay up. “I’ll send you for him later. Bring in the next.”
“Will do, sir.”
The next couple of hours, I sit through one meeting after the other. Businesses are exchanged, we agree on illegal casinos, legal night clubs, construction and real estate contracts, raising the sum we pay to a few of the higher-level detectives in the police force. There are huge gun deals, small time drug dealers to handle and either rein in or kill off. Someone’s been harassing hookers and we have that part of the city secured in exchange for a percent of their income. The girls are too dirty and run-down to work for me, but there is money to be made. Always money. Always staying on top of the food chain. Always putting fear in others.
No one has been unaffected by the bruised, naked girl standing to the side. Some have lusted for her, a couple of men asked if she is available. Most looked horrified. I’ve cut good deals today and she has clearly been useful. I’ll keep that in mind.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts by a knock on the door. I pinch the bridge of my nose and exhale. I’m tired. It’s not my last contact, though. It’s Ivan.
“She came by taxi.” His eyes dart to a swaying, shuddering Chloe. Her body has been wracked by sobs the last hour. I’ve been meaning to punish her for it, but it turned out to be an even greater distraction, and my cock liked it. A lot.
“Where is it now?”
Ivan shakes his head.
“Someone saw it?”
“Yes, sir. It’s on camera.”
I look at the blond, Russian giant and nod. “Find him and deal with him. He’s the only one who can tell she came here and never came out.”
New sets of strange, hitching sobs from Chloe makes us both look over at her. Then her knees fold and she falls into a heap, wailing wordlessly. I nod for Ivan to leave and study her crumpled body as I cross the room. Grabbing her hair, I crouch before her and pull up her head until she looks at me. Her gaze is dark and filled with pain, her cheeks drenched in tears.
“Please—don’t kill him,” she gasps between hitching sobs. “He wasn’t more than twenty.”
“That’s none of your business. You should be more concerned for yourself.”
Her lower lip trembles. “Please, let me go. I won’t tell anyone about you or… Christian.”
I smirk. “No, you won’t. Get over here.” I pull her to her feet by her hair.
She grabs my hand with her free hand and then doubles over with a gasp, letting go of me, clutching her ribs instead.
“Are you in pain?” I ask softly.
She nods as a whimper escapes her, a ray of hope crossing her features at my seemingly concerned tone.
“I like it,” I say, watching that tiny spark of hope die as I push her toward the couch. “Go sit.” She cries out but stumbles forward. Fuck me, I want to spread those firm ass cheeks and do her. I’m unapologetically hard. Pushing her down until she sits, I stand before her, my crotch level with her face. Tears stream endlessly along her cheeks, wetting her chest. I glance down at her heavy breasts, the skin glistening wet. Letting go of her hair, I reach out and put a hand under one breast, weighing it in my palm, brushing the pad of my thumb over her nipple, reveling in the feel as it turns into a hard peak.
She flinches but doesn’t try to escape me. Clearly, she has already learned there’s no use in trying.
My breathing quickens as I think of my frustration the other night. Can I?
I decide to dig deeper and find out everything there is to know about Miss Becker. Who is she? Where did she come from? Who will miss her?
“Please, don’t kill me, Mr. Salvatore. I’m so sorry I threatened you. I didn’t mean it. I was angry. I was stupid.”
Oh yes, she was stupid. She was also incredibly unlucky to have ever met Kerry Jackson. It sealed her fate long before any of us knew it. Crouching before her, I grab her chin. Her desolate gaze fixates on me, terrified. “You’ll live,” I say, suddenly knowing what I’ll do.
Relief floods her features. I crush it.
“But you’ll probably wish you hadn’t.”
Chapter 7
Chloe
Luciano Salvatore’s words wrap tighter than any rope would around my throat. I feel as if I’m drowning. Bruised, naked, shivering under his cold and yet heated gaze, I try to form even one coherent thought, but my mind is a jumbled mess of raw fear. A sickening feeling that everything is too late claws at my insides.
“Please,” I whisper. “Let me go. Let me get dressed. Let me go.” I’m transfixed by his black eyes. There’s hunger in them and it makes my stomach churn. He looks me over, his expression the same infuriatingly neutral he’s carried the whole time, but something new flares in his gaze.
“Take off that bandage.”
My hands fly up to cover it, to protect my chest from the worsened pain that will follow if I remove the bandage. I yelp as he grabs my wrist and pulls it to him.
“You’ll hurt even worse if you don’t do what I tell you,” he growls. “Either I rip it off you, and I can promise you it won’t be a pleasant experience. For you. Or I grant you the generous opportunity to remove it yourself.”
New tears spill over my cheeks as my fingers search for the tape that holds the wraps. I’m in a state of such mad panic that I can’t feel my hands, and with the fumbling it seems to take forever. Finally, I begin uncovering my last patches of bruised skin, the worst parts, lap after lap, wincing from the strain on my aching muscles. My legs still tremble from standing for so long. It felt like hours. I have no idea how long he made me stand naked with my back to his business partners. I felt it every time someone new entered the room. The silence, the air thickening, the questions hanging between us three people in the room, unasked. Then there were the ones who bluntly asked. I’ve never felt so dirty before in my life.
My hand shakes violently as I pull off the last lap and lower my arm, clutching the white cotton strip.
Salvatore smirks. “Stand up.”
“Please.” My voice is nothing but a hoarse weird noise, the word barely identifiable. He grabs my hair and pulls me to my feet. I scream as I clutch his hand, trying to relieve the tearing pain in my scalp.
“You have nothing, Chloe,” he snarls, his face so close that his breath fans my lips, “You are nobody. There is nothing I can’t do to you. Absolutely no one will come to your aid. Do you understand? You can scream all you want, the only thing that will happen is that I punish you again and again until you obey me.”
Ravaging fear mixed with anger boils up inside me, shooting the lid off. “Never,” I scream. Then I spit in his face, the foamy liquid landing on his cheek. “Never, do you hear me?”
He holds my gaze one moment longer, then he turns and pulls me with him. I stumble and fall, burning my skin on the carpet as he drags me over i
t.
“You will be punished for that. It will be your first lesson.” He pushes a button on his desk. “Have Elena call me. Pronto!”
“Yes, sir,” says the same voice as before.
I still hold his hand in my hair, whimpering with pain.
“Up on your knees,” he growls, and I don’t dare to not obey.
He sits in his wooden, old-fashioned office chair, his legs spread wide, my spit still on his cheek. His eyes don’t leave mine, and I’m hypnotized by his dark gaze. We both twitch as his phone chimes. He doesn’t look away as he taps the screen twice.
“Elena,” he says.
“Mr. Salvatore. What can I do for you?” He’s put the call on loudspeaker. The woman’s voice is warm, intimate, and sounds professional at the same time.
“Send me a girl.”
“Right away, sir. Any preferences?”
He looks me over and a leery expression that makes my heart skip a beat comes over him. “Athletic, tall, blonde.”
“She will be with you in thirty.”
“Make it twenty,” he says and taps the screen, killing the call. Leaning forward, he pulls me closer. “Lick this shit off. Make it hot.”
I recoil, disgusted. Hell no. He’s not having it and tugs harder at my hair, making me whimper.
“You have exactly two choices,” he growls, his face so close that his features become blurred. “Do as I say, and I’ll let you rest on that couch the rest of the afternoon, or disobey me and in exactly four minutes from now you’ll be hanging in chains in my basement.”
I choke down the scream that wants to escape me. He can’t do this! This isn’t happening. I want my life back! My eyes dart between his. They’re charcoal black and without a hint of compassion. My heart sinks like a stone. I glance at the spit and lean in, disgusted. Not so much by the thought of licking off my own spit, but by the thought that I’ll put my tongue on this monster. I swallow against the nausea and touch his skin with the tip of my tongue. His dark stubble scratches my tongue as I lick a path upward. Surrounded by his scent, a heavy musky cologne with hints of citrus, a tang of earthy cigar, a rush of something undefinable shoots through me as he growls, low and sensual and still menacing. Everything about him is menace, horror, death, and still something happens in the air between us as I lean back slightly, having fulfilled my task. Then it’s gone as suddenly as it appeared. He lets go of my hair, shoving me away.
Capo Page 5