by Sam Crescent
Her enslavement had started and now, she was in his apartment, and as far as his father was concerned, dead.
Did he miss her? The scars on her body indicated she’d been a favorite of his.
Raphael did get a hot flush of pleasure knowing he’d taken something precious away from the bastard, but he had no intention of hurting her.
No, he was going to set her free, all he needed in place was time and people on his side. That was all he required. As soon as he did, Elenore would be safe and he’d be able to give her a choice.
“What are you doing here?” Raphael asked.
“I’m guessing drug bust, or a couple of traitors if I’m here.”
“Sounds fair.”
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“You want to talk about what’s bothering you?”
“No. Nothing is bothering me.” They walked down to the main docks where his father stood with his most loyal of soldiers and he noticed Gino stood close as well. When had his uncle started coming to these kinds of meetings? What was more, why did his uncle look like he had his own entourage of people? Four men were tied to chairs, all of them bleeding from the face. One of them looked like they’d pissed themselves.
“Ah, Raphael, Antonio, it’s a pleasure for you to finally join us.” He heard the affection for Antonio.
“Traffic was a bitch,” Raphael said.
“I imagine it was. Now, these four men, they seem to think it’s easy for several hundred grams of good-quality Giavanni coke to go missing. I ask them how this is possible. I have a deal in place. I know what I pay for, and what I’m supposed to get. They have me convinced this is what was sent to me. I’m old but I’m not stupid.”
Did his father look ill? There was something off and he couldn’t be sure of what. No, he was overthinking this shit. His father was a monster and all that was happening now was business.
Raphael knew this was Antonio’s territory. He walked away from the wakeup call they were all going to get, which would result in several broken bones before someone confessed. He’d broken many bones. It didn’t make the sound any less gross over time. He hated hurting people. It was kind of ironic he was the son of a mafia boss who took a great deal of pleasure in hurting people.
Stepping into the open container, he saw the barrels. Each one would have coke inside and would be distributed out by one of the MC clubs they used, and also in the clubs. His father even had a tendency to mess with the product, fuck it up, and sell it back to his suppliers for triple the price. Of course, he only did that to make them learn the formula and when they did, he’d get a shit load of the stuff for a cheaper price, seeing as he helped to create it. His father was a manipulative bastard.
He was about to turn away when he heard a sob.
The sound was relatively faint but distinctive.
Stepping toward it, he came to a stop when he saw two girls, couldn’t be any older than fifteen, curled around each other, terrified and filthy.
Was this a test?
He didn’t want to hurt them.
His father had more than a couple of grams of coke in this container.
Fuck!
If he brought the girls out, this could be his test and his father would know he wasn’t completely on his side. His father liked to fuck with him, to constantly test his loyalty. With Elenore gone, his father would be looking for another girl to beat. One or both were the candidates.
It took every single bit of willpower to step out of the container, freeze his features, and stand to watch Antonio get the truth out of them.
Gino whispered something into his father’s ear. It was subtle and he saw Romeo tense up before looking up at him. What the fuck was going on there? His father came to stand beside him. “Antonio really knows his skills for getting information.”
“You pay him to be the best.”
“Even his skills take it to a fine art.”
“Don’t you think this is a little dangerous? Being out in the open?”
“No. I like to see how deep their loyalties lie. You know I don’t like to keep wasted space around me. I need real men who know how to get the job done and aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty. I don’t have time for pathetic assholes in my life.” Giavanni smiled. “You saw the girls.” There was an edge to his voice.
“I did.”
“And yet you didn’t say anything.”
“Does Antonio know of your … desires?”
“Antonio knows what he needs to. I want you to take them home for me. I will keep him busy. Remember, they’re things, Raphael. Hurt them to keep them in line.”
He felt sick to his stomach.
“One day, you’re going to have all of this one day. You’re going to need to learn to be cruel every single day.”
“I have no doubt of it, Father. What’s Gino doing here?” he asked.
“Don’t you worry about your uncle. Do as you’ve been told.”
He stepped away from the man before he did something he’d regret. Killing him would be so easy right now.
After stepping into the container, he grabbed the two girls. “You make a sound, I will fucking kill you. Do you understand?”
They nodded their heads.
“Good.” He marched them out of the container and his father was good to his word. Antonio didn’t see a fucking thing.
Raphael hated this. After walking them to his car, he stored them in the trunk and without another word, he drove all the way back to his father’s mansion. The mansion was still under repair after the attack. Part of him wasn’t pissed about being shot at, seeing as it meant he was finally able to get Elenore out of there.
Once he brought his car to a stop, he went back to the trunk, popped it open, and dragged the two sobbing girls into the mansion.
His father’s men and staff weren’t shocked by what he did.
He pulled them up to his father’s room, and with the cuffs where he knew they were stored, he bound each one to the bed. Neither of them could get out. “If you both know what is good for you, you’ll do as you’re told. He will … he will hurt you, but if you make him addicted, you’ll be taken care of.”
With that, he turned on his heel, leaving his father’s home.
After climbing into the car, he drove out of the city, down a long country lane that he knew quite well. The town it was attached to had turned into a ghost town. Only a few residents with a gas station and a bar. That was all it had.
He hated walking away, but he pressed his foot to the gas, spun his car around, and drove hard and fast, back in the direction he came. Opening his mouth, he screamed, letting out all the pent-up frustration he could think of.
He yelled, hit his car, floored it, and finally released the tension he had building up. With his voice raw, he did no more than drive all the way back to his apartment. After parking his car, he climbed out and made his way upstairs. When he got to his door, he paused.
Whoever had broken in hadn’t closed the door behind him. The marks on the lock were there, distinctive.
Son of a bitch.
While he’d been hand-delivering those girls to his father, someone had been breaking into his place.
Well, now he was pissed.
Pulling out his gun, which already had a silencer attached, he stepped into his apartment, careful as he closed the door and eased the lock into place. The man clearly didn’t know that to lock his door, he needed to actually turn the knob and put it into place. The door would close but spring open if not done properly.
This wasn’t his first time he’d needed to do this. He’d practiced.
After learning all of his father’s manipulative techniques, he’d spent hours knowing every single part of his apartment, where the creaky floorboards were. How his doors sounded when they moved.
Someone was in his laundry room. He took the steps and as he came into the doorway, he saw the man.
Before the man could react, he slammed him against the wa
shing machine, smacking his head on the corner, and then, shooting him with a single bullet into the forehead.
It was over quickly.
****
Time ticked by.
Her body hurt. She needed to use the bathroom.
Pressing her thighs together, Elenore didn’t dare move. She didn’t know if he’d left or not. He hadn’t looked through the entire closet, even muttering about rich bastards. She hated being cooped up in a ball, but she preferred this to death.
In all of her captivity, she’d never wanted to die.
She screamed as the door was pulled.
“Elenore.”
The sound was muffled.
No one but Timothy the doctor and Raphael knew her name.
She fumbled with the lock. She shook so much it took her a couple of attempts to get the thing open. Seeing Raphael, she threw herself at him. “Someone was in your apartment. I forgot the cell phone. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. I’ve got you. He’s been dealt with but you can’t go into the laundry room. I’ve got you.”
He held her tightly and she sobbed against his chest. “What does this mean? If he was here?”
“It means my father is trying to test me. He does random checks like this. Don’t worry. I’ve already put the call through to let him know someone was in my apartment.”
“Why?”
“He will be stopping by.”
“Is that wise?”
“Yes. If I don’t do this, he’ll think I’m hiding something.”
“And you are?”
“Exactly. I’m hiding you.” He cupped her face. “I didn’t get a chance to get you any clothes.”
“I don’t care about clothes. The only thing that matters is you.”
He laughed. “I’m glad.” He kissed the top of her head, and she snuggled against him, not wanting to let go.
“What’s going to happen when your father gets here?”
“He’s going to take a look around and probably deny all knowledge of who that man is.”
“You’re going to trust him?”
“I don’t have a choice.” He stroked her cheek. “I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you.” He kissed her lips. “I’m sorry. I keep on kissing you and I don’t even know if you’re okay with it.”
She chuckled. “I am.”
“Do you like me kissing you?”
“I asked for it last night, remember? I like it.” He was the first man to ask her for something, even as simple as a kiss.
Didn’t he know how special that was?
“Can I kiss you?” she asked.
“What?”
“I’d like to kiss you, like you did for me last night.”
“I would love that.”
She cupped his face, stroking her thumb across his bottom lip. Now, she felt a little nervous. “I don’t think I’m a good kisser.”
“Don’t think, just let it happen. Feel what your body likes, what it wants.”
“I don’t know what it is I want,” she said. “I mean, apart from the kiss.”
“Then let your body take over.”
She pressed her lips to his, sinking her fingers into his hair as she pressed her body against him.
At first, he didn’t respond and she truly believed she was doing it wrong. She didn’t have a clue what to do or say. Pulling back, she saw him waiting for more. With her lips pressed against his again, she ran her tongue across his lips, seeing what it felt like to taste him. He opened up and his tongue teased across her own.
His hand came up, sinking into her hair, holding her in place as he kissed her back. She moaned and as he sat back, she moved to straddle his waist, feeling the hard ridge of his cock pressing against her core.
He held her hands. “I don’t want to frighten you.”
“You don’t. You’re nothing like your father, Raphael.”
He wrapped his hand around her hair. “You’re right, I’m not. I could never hurt you.”
She smiled at him.
“I’m going to have to stop you.”
“So you can have your father here?”
“Yes.”
“You need me to go back into the closet?”
“Yes, but I’ll make you a milkshake to help you.”
She giggled. “Okay. I can live with that.” She kissed him again. “Can I use the bathroom first?”
“Yes.”
She climbed off his lap and saw his length pressing against the front of his pants.
“You know you don’t have to do any of this. I won’t send you back to my father and I won’t hurt you if you don’t want to.”
“I know you’re a good man. A million times better than the one you call father.”
“Do you know what happened with your parents?”
She shook her head. “I was born like this.”
“Like what?”
“A no one. I have nothing to give and nothing to offer. This is all I am.”
“You’re a lot more.” He cupped her cheek. “Go to the bathroom. I’ll fix you something to eat.”
She didn’t argue with him.
Using the bathroom, she washed her hands, splashed more water on her face, and went back to the tiny, locked room. Seconds later, Raphael came back. He held a large glass complete with a milkshake and what looked like some whipped cream on top and a cherry.
She took the glass as he heard the knock on the door.
“Soon.”
He closed the door. Clicked off the light, closed the other door, and left.
Sipping at her milkshake, she took a bite of the cherry, licking the cream from it before she did.
Time once again melted away.
Would there ever be a time when she wasn’t trapped or locked up? Where she could live a good life without fear of being caught or hurt?
Just once, she’d love to know what it would be like to be normal. She finished the milkshake, and it only served to remind her of his hungry she was. Lying down on the floor, she waited.
Was Giavanni close?
Did he know she was there?
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door was opened and Raphael helped her out of the tight, cramped space. He picked her up this time and placed her on the edge of his bed. He rubbed her thighs and legs. “I know you’ve spent the better part of a day in there, and I don’t want you hurting.” He was careful with her wound.
“Thank you. What did your father say?”
“He claimed not to know him or any of his associations. I’ve got men working on an identification. I’ll know soon.”
“Will your father be stopping by more often?”
“Probably not. I passed two of his fucked-up tests today.”
“This was the second?”
“Yes.”
“What was the first?
“You don’t want to know.”
“I don’t want to know or you don’t want me to know?”
“Both, Elenore. You know I’m not a good man.”
“Girls?” she asked.
Raphael frowned.
“It was more girls, wasn’t it?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It doesn’t stop you from being a good man.”
“No, a good man would have taken them to the nearest police station or found someone who could help locate their parents. Instead, they are chained to my father’s bed.”
“So long as they make him happy, it won’t be too bad.”
“And you, did you make him happy?”
“I have the scars to prove it.” She reached around to touch her back. Tears filled her eyes. “Giavanni isn’t a good man.”
“One day, I’m going to make him pay for what he did to you. Every single scar, he will come to regret.”
“I don’t want to lose you in the process.” He took her hand that she’d placed against his cheek.
“Never. You won’t lose me. I’ll do what needs to be done.
It’s getting late. I’m going to give you something to eat and then I think it’s time for you to go to bed.”
“I don’t want to sleep alone.” She looked at his bed. “Could I sleep here with you?” She expected him to say no.
He hesitated but suddenly, he nodded his head. “Yes, you can stay here with me.”
Chapter Six
Raphael was no stranger when it came to women.
He’d fucked his fair share of them. He used to love to use them for his own pleasure, for his own gain. Early in his life, he’d been told until his father found the right woman for him, he wasn’t to get attached to women. They were to be used and discarded like toys.
His father always knew how to play the game. To many of his soldiers, like Antonio, he was a man to be feared, loved, revered. Raphael knew the truth. He’d seen the darkness up close and personal.
Staring down at the woman in his bed, something shifted inside him. He’d fallen for this girl years ago, and now, she was a woman.
She didn’t know her age. The blood tests and X-ray rests that had come back from Timothy, which he had on his cell phone, indicated she was in her early twenties. Modern technology never failed to surprise him.
She was also clean. Used and abused by his father, but he’d not given her any infections or diseases. She was clean.
He stroked some of her long, glorious hair back from her body. The blanket had pulled off her, and the shirt she wore rode up, showing off the curve of her buttock and the base of her back.
Welts in a cross pattern marred her skin. He traced a finger over each welt, knowing his father wasn’t the only person to have marked her pretty skin. Some of these scars were old.
She moved a little and he glanced down to see one of her eyes open. The other pressed against the bed.
“I broke a plate,” she said. “My master, she got so mad, and she hurt me.”
“A woman did this?”
“Yes.”
He listened as she told him she didn’t even get the worse punishment. How a woman got her hand boiled and she had to stand and watch. “It was my fault.”