by S. W. Frank
“You are lying!”
The charming Bruno appeared. “I thought this is what you wanted. I give you your wish and you shout at me. You are not as sweet as I thought. Tsk –tsk, what am I to do with you bella?”
Bruno retrieved Maria’s cell phone from the floor. “You will do as I say or perhaps you prefer force as a motivation.”
Maria swallowed. “Bruno, what has happened to you?”
Bruno snorted. “I married a disobedient donna!” he exclaimed. “Do it –ora!”
Chapter 13
Lucia’s hands shook violently. The handcuffs were tight, hindering her circulation. She twisted her torso against metal rivets. Her foggy brain deduced she was held captive in a large shipping container. She’d been inside many with her father when he supervised the shipping of crates of wine or vehicles. Later on, she realized the shipments also included contraband.
Under confinement and without a means to contact family, her yearning for his presence elicited an emotional ache. How long she went in and out of the drug induced state is uncertain. She wondered if anyone missed her, certainly her nursing infant would and Sergio, but by that time she’ll be dead.
She thought of her father’s words during a stroll through their vineyard. “Look Lucia, from this soil springs nature’s beauty. The day your mama gave birth to you, my eyes watered with happiness. I thought to myself, although I am not a saint, I am blessed with a sweet daughter.”
He had then kneeled beneath the sun, yanked loose a vine of grapes, and plucked a lavender orb in his mouth. “Ah, this is sweet as well. You may one day hear and see me do many bad things, but you can never share what you know with anyone.” He squeezed a grape that appeared over ripe, the thin skin burst and he laughed. “Soft, a bit of pressure and it wilts without resistance. One day, someone may come and ask questions about our famiglia. Like this vine,” he fingered each round fruit individually, “our famiglia consists of more than ourselves. Siblings, and cousins are blood, but trusted friends are also considered famiglia. Anyone interested in our business, especially the bad things is not amici. Never, tell them anything. We honor each other by remaining loyal. When someone squeezes us for information we reply with silence, capisce princess?”
Lucia had nodded. At thirteen, she had already figured out her papa was Mafia; many of her friends relatives were also. The code of silence, Omertá is spoken often among her brothers when there is something they do not want their parents to know. In fact, her brother Matteo had made her swear the oath many times when taking money from papa’s wallet to spend on ragazzi.
The memory of her papa’s proud stature and debonair charm brought a weak smile. He was a Mafioso but not an evil man; he possessed honor and love.
Perhaps, she gravitated to thuggish Giuseppe Dichenzo because she observed similar virtues. However, a girl in love sees roses and stars, which soon wilt when acid rain seeps beneath the soil.
Lucia considered her many transgressions, and found solace that she found a wonderful husband in Sergio who would care for their son after her passing. Unlike, her brother Matteo, she’d do her papa proud and die with honor.
She rattled the chains, a puppet in shackles with her mind intact yet unable to scream at the unassuming man who entered the container.
The man’s eyes were void of emotion. In the corner of the containment unit was a light. On the walls were chains, bolted to the steel to imprison others. He needed Nico Serano to witness his family perish, just as he had years ago. Everything was set and the choice of location very significant. His family died from bullets and fire, Nico Serano’s would suffer torture and water.
There was a sigh of bored detachment from the stranger as his booted feet crossed the scuffed floor where grime and oil clung. An industrial cleanser could remove the stains of machinery and human blood. However, nothing erases cowardice. Faced with a choice that violated the oath of famiglia, Lucia did not fight the chains; instead she peered into the eyes of her abductor, smiling with her eyes when he halted in front of her.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
The grogginess caused her eyelids to droop. The coarse rope separating her upper and lower teeth nearly caused her to gag whenever she tried to swallow. The stronzo expected her to answer; if she could she’d unleash her breakfast in his face.
“The address of Nico Serano is all I want. I promise to release you…”
Lucia watched his lips move. They were thin, not sensual or soft in appearance. His teeth were bleached too white. Not a truth existed in the emotionless oratory. She’d spent time in the company of killers and he’d never release her once she gave him what he wanted.
Lie to me cazzo, however I see through your ruse. Think me a silly woman and find the heart of a mafia Donna!
“Blink once and I will loosen the rope for you to tell me.”
Lucia strained to detect the sounds from outdoors.
Her chin lifted in defiance. He saw…sí…he saw her lip quiver into a smile despite the binds. His arms went slack as he stepped away to snatch the hanging light from a hook. Lucia received satisfaction that she would delay his plans. Her bravery slowly faded when he held the hot bulb to her arm until she groaned.
“Is that too hot?”
Lucia grunted as she struggled to free her hands and feet from the chains. Unexpectedly, the maniac grabbed a handful of her hair, twirling hard and pulling until she whimpered from the searing needles poking her scalp.
“Does it hurt?” He sneered, and then abruptly yanked out a large chunk of her hair. He laughed and tossed the strands to the floor, and then paced the cramped space waving the lamp angrily as she cried, choking on her spit.
Lucia’s eyes followed his movements. The stinging to her head brought a moan and sniffles. He suddenly halted, returned the lamp to an overhang and looked at her with pity. She thought she glimpsed humanity then, but hope faded when he ran at her barking like a dog Nico’s name.
“Nico Serano –Nico Serano –Nico Serano I want Nico Serano!”
Her eyes descended to his pocket as he reached inside and withdrew a shiny blade, the kind surgeons use. He took her thumb in his hand, maintaining eye contact.
Lucia stiffened when he traced the edge of her nail with the scalpel.
He grinned, held tight and cut, carving into her flesh until the gold leaf design lifted from her skin.
Lucia wiggled in agony. Tears were her screams that broke through orbital dams. The lamp swinging on the hook stopped its pendulum movements to listen to her suffering and she saw every wrong she committed when she failed to tell Sergio he was her great pleasure.
Sergio’s image and his kisses to her mouth before he departed for work provided relief from the excruciating pain. To her husband is where she looked for strength as the lunatic lifted her bloody finger, licking the red drips.
“The pain will cease,” her abductor then stated calmly. He pressed his cheek to her forehead that sparkled from sweat. “Simply tell me where I may find Nico Serano...whisper like music the words.”
‘I love you Lucia. You and me we’re cut from the same cloth. We’re on the fringes of the family. Let’s band together in marriage and build our love dynasty.’
Those were Sergio’s sweet words that she clung to while wishing for a speedy death when the madman kissed her with her blood.
Chapter 14
Lorenzo remained immobile while frisked. Then leisurely strolled through a metal detector after being relieved of his watch, belt, wallet and keys. The security was top-notch for a gentleman’s club. The only advice he’d offer the club owner is to have patrons remove their shoes.
“This way,” the unassuming host in business attire said before leading the way through a hall and up a flight of stairs where a visibly armed guard stood at the far end of the corridor. The host then pointed to a door. “When you are done, your property will be returned.”
Lorenzo nodded. He heard voices below and assumed other guests had arrived. The host lingered until Lorenzo entered the room. He shut the door once inside the spacious suite. His iris dilated, adjusting to the dim lighting.
The owner of the establishment incorporated the art of sensory stimulation judging by the set-up. Soft music, mood lighting, the aromatic hint of jasmine, an array of libido enhancing chocolates greeted a customer, along with his favorite drinks.
The comfortable furnishings included a soft faux rug, oversized oval bed with a cashmere snow colored throw, adorned with two lovely women. The curvaceous chocolate treat and sushi delicacy rose in unison, their silk gowns flowing shimmers of opposing colors as they drifted in his direction.
Lorenzo removed his boots, setting them near the baseboard. The pair halted, taking positions on his left and right.
Lorenzo was familiar with the workings of seduction. In this case his money paid for the prelude and everything else with explicit instruction.
Conversation with high-class call girls wasn’t why he ventured there. However, he began to relax during the female machinations. Delicate hands sought to remove his Under Armor sweat resistant shirt and he shook his head negatively. The tight antimicrobial crewneck held the bandages securely; in addition he didn’t want body fluids seeping into the cloth.
He remained immobile as the beauties unzipped his trousers before tugging the pants along with his boxers to the carpet.
The sexy chocolate one with the sensual mouth smiled wryly when she spotted the tattoo of lips on his head. Certainly in her profession she’d had at least one client tatted in the highly sensitive area, he ruminated.
Unaffected by their probing hands and fascination with the realistic lips on his penis, he kicked away the garments to walk to the goody-bar for a drink and broke their hold.
The women were undeterred by their client’s detachment. Eisbär said he was interested in exotic women, preferred they follow his lead and they were to avoid chitchat. Thus they moved quietly in sync with Lorenzo, caressing his exposed flesh, vying for his attention at the sight of his erection.
Thalia was on his mind as he mixed orange juice and vodka, tossed in some cubes, and gulped. He felt their kisses on his ass as he ate from the buffet and gripped the fibers of the carpet with his toes when soft lips glided along his rod. He spread his legs, sucking in his contoured gut, beginning to enjoy how Chocolate initiated pleasure with her tongue.
He placed the glass on the counter, deciding the brown lovely is whom he wanted first.
Lorenzo’s eyes were liquored glass, stemming from his intoxicated soul. Every touch of her mouth scorched, every sucking erupted the fire from within. He wanted to feel heat because he existed in a living hell. He pulled her up, wanting her mouth’s cushion on his. She stretched on the tips of her toes to kiss him like a delicate ballerina and he opened wide, allowing her tongue to explore and he nibbled on the tip. Lorenzo wondered if she could taste his desire for death as he walked her to the bed and halted at the edge.
The other woman followed, he heard her exhalation, and probably jealous he opted for cocoa over cream. Lorenzo simply admired the way Chocolate took matters into her ‘mouth’ to get the party started. Thalia would have done the same thing.
Chocolate’s genital manipulation resulted in an expulsion of sticky liquid from his tip. The gel consistency clung to her digits, which she used to massage his base. Pre-cum was the proof of his arousal and she moaned her delight that she’d get a taste.
He ached for release, smirking as she reached in her robe, opened the condom wrapper with deft fingers, and sheathed his dick. Of course, he’d never screw without protection. Thalia was the exception. Once again, Chocolate scored points for taking the initiative.
Their appetites equally peaked. He noticed the excitement at the prospect of coupling and he supposed her customers were pot-bellied hairy old men with flaccid dicks. The booze served as a temporary aphrodisiac but he needed pussy as the painkiller.
He opened the silk robe, liking the perky tits that he flicked with his tongue as he lowered her to the bed. His tongue traced the indentation of between her breasts, inhaling her soft floral fragrance as he ascended over her throat and inserted into the cherry lips. A professional whore becomes whatever role befitting her client. Chocolate was his temporary woman that he made love to in the late afternoon.
He squeezed her tits during penetration. She moaned and he liked the sound. She gazed into his eyes, and he wondered if she saw the gray clouds because she caressed the scar on his lip with such tenderness, he grunted, lifting and impaling her to the bed with repetitive thrusts. He kissed her, wanting Thalia in the haze of liquored dreams as he pretended she lay beneath him. He rolled with Chocolate, letting her ride him to a glorious finish, however he was hungry and salivated for a second helping.
The third wheel decided she wanted in on the action and kissed him without a fraction of Chocolate’s passion.
He let her, why not?
Lorenzo’s eyes were on Chocolate, he liked the way she brought his penis to attention when she removed the soiled condom, wiped him clean with a cloth and then massaged edible oil into his skin.
The kneading from her hands, sent sparks to his thighs and he flexed forward, dislodging from the other woman to focus on the expert hands firing his libido.
“Come here Chocolate.” He ordered.
She climbed atop him, placed her hands on his shoulders and then traced his collarbone. She touched the gold chain. He allowed her to finger the links.
When Chocolate lifted his shirt, Lorenzo stiffened. She traced the large bandage and then she flinched when he rolled up his sleeve to show her the fresh scars on his arm since she was curious. Her eyes were questioning. Maybe, let her speak, he thought, but then he squinted when struck with fresh pain that shot to his temple with such ferocity, he pushed her hands away, and rose from the bed for a stiff drink. Chocolate was inquisitive, she also stirred emotion that he didn’t want.
The alcohol helped, but he needed strong pain medication. He’d depleted the supply of pills and coke he bought from a dealer near the hotel. Once he spotted a pharmacy he’d purchase over the counter inhibitors, until then he planned to soothe the ache with liquor.
There were massages to his buttocks as he leaned over the smooth wood. From the scent, he knew it wasn’t Chocolate who smelled sweeter.
The woman slipping beneath his arms, pressing her buttocks into his thighs isn’t the one he found alluring. There’s a reason he asked for her presence, the owner was fond of his top moneymaker. Apparently, Asian delicacy is the fetish of an important politician in the province he’d been told.
She cooed, swiveling her buttocks in a circular motion over his dick and passed him a condom. He stepped back to don the prophylactic and gave her what she desired right in the ass. The decadent cries when he pound her flesh elicited bittersweet delight as she screamed. She attempted to match his ferocity and found her movements restricted by his weight. She clawed at the counter, knocking over the glasses, spilling the liquid on the circular ba
r. Her piteous cries reminded him of a wounded animal and the sound became a repellant.
Lorenzo withdrew with a scoff. “Rip-off!”
He unrolled the soiled condom, tossed it aside and returned to the bed where Chocolate lounged with a knowing smile. The farce was over, he couldn’t prolong his true desire to kill the sonovabitch who took his pleasures in one swoop of molten metal. Lorenzo wanted the bastard to suffer; without retribution, he knew he’d never be able to live.
Lorenzo scowled. “Get out of here,” he said to Chocolate. “Tell your boss I want to have a chat with the real boss and a refund!”
Chocolate stood, closing her robe. When she spoke, her voice was as pretty as her face. “You still have forty minutes.”
She pointed to a door in the corner. “There’s a bathroom over there if you’d like to clean up after fucking that!”
He nodded. “I’m not supposed to wet the bandages.”
“Looks like you failed there. They need changing.”
“And how would you know?”
The instrumental music changed to a love ballad. The Italian singer cried about losing his love to another and doing anything to reclaim her affection. Women consider that stalking, Lorenzo mused.
“I changed many.”
“You’re a nurse?”
“No. I worked as a Home Health Aide, changing adult diapers, and cleaning bed sores mostly.”
He examined her face. There was more to Chocolate and he was interested in hearing her story. A pretty woman that had an honest job doesn’t usually end up in a foreign country servicing men unless something happened.
”I have forty minutes, huh?”
“Thirty seven, now.”
“Join me for a shower.”
“What about your need to speak to the Boss?”
“You can deliver the message when we’re done.”
“Okay,” she said leading the way to the bathroom.
The other woman sought to follow and Lorenzo closed the door. He wanted alone time with Chocolate.
She turned on the taps. “It’s better if you sit. I’ll fill the tub half-way.”
She helped remove his shirt. He crouched to allow her to pull the garment over his head.