“Mine,” he screamed as he loomed over her. His fingers bit into her upper arms, and he shook her until her head was snapping forward and backward. “You stole it, you cunt.”
Mia didn’t try to speak until he finally stopped shaking her. Bile spewed from her, and she turned her head at the last minute to avoid painting his black button-down with vomit. It wasn’t consideration that prompted the move. Self-preservation motivated her, though she would have loved to puke all over him. “What are you going to do to me?” She barely framed the words as blood trickled from her mouth, making her realize she had bitten her tongue during the mad shaking.
“First, we’ll get back what you threw away, and then I’ll take it the way I deserve.”
Her head was muddled from the confrontation, and perhaps the lingering sedative, so she didn’t intuit his meaning. Mia slumped in the chair and tried to regain her equilibrium. A sucking sound caught her attention a couple of moments later, and nausea swirled with renewed vigor at the sight of Aldo hammering into poor little Spare’s mouth. It was a disgusting sight, made all the worse by the complete adulation on the girl’s face as she gazed up at the brute ravaging her oral cavity so violently.
Mia vowed she would not turn into that young woman, no matter what Aldo did to her. She’d rather die than surrender to him, or be his devoted sex slave. She truly believed Shane would find her, but she had to survive as herself until then.
* * *
Shane did his best to stand still as he faced Patrick Murphy, though his body vibrated with tension to be in front of the man again for the second time in one day. It wasn’t often that the head of his family summoned him for a meeting, and he was in no mood for a rerun today.
Six hours. Six fucking hours since he’d come home to the bloodbath on the sheets and no Mia. Five hours and forty minutes since he’d discovered Selena had accompanied a load of laundry away from the estate, though it wasn’t the usual laundry day.
Five hours and thirty-nine minutes since he’d begun trying to roust Aldo and find Mia. His first hit had been on Aldo’s private club. Guns blazing had been his quick and dirty approach, since he’d lacked the luxury of time and finesse. A gun in the face broke down all kinds of language barriers, and it was amazing how quickly the goombahs had dropped the pretense of only speaking Italian to reveal they hadn’t seen Aldo in a few days.
Shane had made his way systematically through Aldo’s known haunts and business endeavors until the summons came from Murphy fifty-seven minutes ago. His impulse had been to ignore it, but he’d known that might sign his death warrant. The last thing he needed was a war on two fronts.
“At our earlier meeting, I believe I made it clear that retaliation was the order of the day, Shane?”
He nodded, not speaking as he tried to judge the other man’s mood. Patrick kept his intentions hidden until he wanted to reveal them. It was part of what made him such a fine boss, but it was irritating the fuck out of Shane right now. He wanted to scream at the other man to cut the shit and get to the matter at hand, because time was ticking away, and the longer Mia was in Aldo’s hands, the worse she would fare.
“I’ve had some time to cool down a bit. I was angry then.” The statement was bland, though his hazel eyes sparkled with a remaining hint of rage. “Peretti and Kasilli have both called me, and they want a meeting.”
Shane shrugged. “How does that affect me, sir?”
Patrick blinked. “Really? You’re going to ask me that, show me disrespect, after what’s happened today? Riley Kilkearny and three of my closest friends are dead.”
Shane sighed. “Yes, sir. They were my friends too, and I meant no disrespect.” God, he hated the posturing bullshit the mafia families insisted upon, at least the Irish and Italians. He didn’t think the Russians were so hung up on stupid customs. “My thoughts are elsewhere.”
Patrick nodded. “I understand that. I called you here because officially, I can’t support your endeavors at recovering your lady until the meeting, and I evaluate the situation.”
He sucked in a deep breath. “Are you asking me to stop looking for her, Mr. Murphy?”
The other man shook his head. “No, of course not. I know how you feel about her. I’m just telling you there will be no family support for now. I intend to turn a blind eye to whatever you do, but I want you to understand I can’t defend your actions with the Italians and the Russians, and if they catch you…”
Shane swallowed. “Yeah, I get it. I’ve been disavowed.”
Patrick gave him a small smile. “Pretty much, my friend.” His eyes narrowed, and rage bled through. “You can bet you’ll have full support and a huge war if we can’t find a resolution.”
“I don’t give a fuck about a war, sir. I just want Mia back and Aldo dead.”
Surprisingly, Patrick held out his hand. “I wish you luck with both of your missions, Shane.”
Feeling a bit disoriented from the outcome, Shane left Murphy’s house a few minutes later. The valet brought around his red coupe, and he climbed inside, securing his seatbelt even as he peeled away.
He wasn’t forbidden to find her, using whatever methods necessary, as he’d expected. Shane hadn’t intended to obey any embargo on finding Mia, so it was a bit of good luck that his boss was willing to look the other way. It still placed him a thorny position. He could count on Bruno to have his back, and probably Cormac, but that was a scant crew to go against Aldo’s goons.
Still, even if he faced them alone, he would proceed. Shane was determined to get Mia back, no matter the cost.
Chapter Nineteen
Mia had half-expected to end up in a bed with Aldo standing over her, but not quite this way. For one thing, she lay strapped down on a stretcher, and while Aldo loomed over her, he was paying attention to the man in scrubs standing on the other side, rather than looking down at her with his usual creepy hunger.
“I want her to be restored to original condition.”
The doctor frowned. “Mr. Peretti, there’s no guarantee a hymenoplasty will work.”
Aldo held up a picture of a smiling blond woman and two twin toddlers. “Your wife and children urge you to make it work, Dr. Sandoval.”
The man nodded, looking sick.
Mia yelped in protest when the doctor put his gloved fingers between her splayed thighs to probe inside her. Her ankles were strapped into stirrups, and her hands were tightly bound. She couldn’t move, but her mouth still worked. “Stop that.”
Finally, the doctor withdrew and looked at Aldo, but never at her. “There isn’t enough of the hymen left intact to perform a repair. I can reconstruct a hymen from vaginal tissue.”
“How long does that take?”
“A few hours.”
Aldo sighed. “I meant before I can use her, doc.”
The doctor flinched, his coppery complexion paling. “Oh, of course…about six weeks.” He must have detected Aldo’s anger, because he hastily stammered, “I…I guess four weeks. Maybe even three.”
“No fucking way.” Aldo glared down at Mia, as though it was her fault. From his perspective, she supposed it was. “There has to be another way.”
The nervous doctor licked his lips. “I could use alloplant to give her a membrane. It’s like a hymen, though it hurts a lot worse for her when you…use her, and there will be more bleeding.”
Aldo looked intrigued. “What’s the healing time?”
“Three to seven days.”
Her disgusting stepbrother tipped his head, as though considering weighty matters. “That sounds like a long time when I’ve already waited so long, but I do deserve the best.” With a nod, clearly oblivious to his own pretentiousness, he said, “Do that one.”
“Okay. I brought some of the tissue along when your man told me what you wanted. Just in case.” He glanced around the small room. “This place isn’t as nice as the room you had equipped for the…other Mia’s cosmetic surgery, Mr. Peretti. Do you have an operating theater with anesthesia avai
lable?”
Peretti sneered. “Not this time. We’re forced to hide in this hole for the time being, so you’ll have to make do.”
The doctor nodded. “I have local anesthetic.”
“No.”
Mia’s stomach clenched as the doctor blinked.
“No? What do you mean, Mr. Peretti?”
Aldo’s expression was full of dark glee. “No anesthetic. Let the cheating little slut feel every bit of the pain and grasp the consequences of her choices.”
She refused to betray her fear and dread, tucking it in alongside her shock that Aldo had arranged for the surgical restoration of her virginity, just so he could take it again. The idea of enduring the surgery while fully alert brought a sheen of sweat to her body, but she didn’t speak or beg him not to do it.
“V…very well, sir.” The doctor glanced at the clock. “It will take at least two or three hours, if you want to get comfortable somewhere, Mr. Peretti.”
Aldo nodded. “I’ll be in the next room, where I can savor every scream.”
Mia glared at him, still silent, as he left her in the impromptu operating room with the shady doctor summoned to undo all the fucking she had done with Shane. The urge to laugh nearly overwhelmed her, but she bit it back. Hysteria instead of amusement prompted the reaction, and she feared devolving to a cackling loon if she gave in to the first giggle.
She watched the doctor with an impassive expression as he laid out implements on a metal stand draped with a cloth she hoped was sterile. “Why are you doing this?”
He didn’t look up at her, but he did answer, which was surprising. “He threatened my family. Sometimes, having a good reputation is a bad thing, Mia. He wanted the best surgeon at his disposal, and he has ways to motivate.” A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead before disappearing under the mask obscuring the lower half of his face.
“And you’re the one who mutilated that other poor girl?” At his terse nod, she asked, “Do you know her real name or anything about her? He’s planning to kill her. You have to help get her home.”
He blinked before meeting her gaze for the first time. The doctor’s complexion was pasty, and he sweated profusely. “I can’t go against Peretti.”
She bit her lip to hold in a tide of angry words. “Fine, but go to the police. Give them an anonymous tip or something.”
He looked anguished. “I can’t.” Before she could protest, he held up a hand. “I would, but I don’t even know where we are. His man picked me up at my office, injected me with a sedative I had been instructed to prepare in advance, and I woke up on that stretcher about thirty minutes ago.”
Disappointment surged through her, both for Aldo’s other victim and herself.
He leaned closer, pitching his voice low. “I’m not performing surgery on you without anesthetic. I’m not a sadistic fucker. I’m trapped, but I don’t have to be merciless. I’m going to numb you up, but then I need you to scream and carry on for a few minutes. Feign passing out after that, and he’ll never know the difference.”
She nodded, surprised by the small gesture of kindness and managing a shred of pity for the surgeon who was clearly here against his will as much as she was. That wasn’t completely comforting when she was the one strapped to the table, and he had the scalpel.
A couple of minutes later, she caught her breath as cool liquid spilled over her vagina, presumably to sterilize her. Then she winced at the first prick of the needle, and two more. After that, she didn’t feel anything.
“Okay, start screaming,” said the doctor a minute later.
Mia wailed and screamed for all she was worth, cursing Aldo with all the things she’d wanted to say to him throughout the years, but had been too frightened to utter even at her most defiant. About five minutes into her ordeal, the bastard came to the doorway of the room to watch her suffering.
Her voice was hoarse, and her throat hurt from the screaming. She had chafed her wrists while trying to break free of the restraints under his watchful eye. It seemed like a good moment to lose consciousness. Drawing on acting skills she hadn’t known she possessed—and prayed weren’t too melodramatic—she rolled her eyes back, trembled a couple of times, and closed her eyelids as she slumped onto the table.
She could hear him approach and tried to regulate her breathing.
“What happened? Is she dead?”
“No, of course not. It was the pain, Mr. Peretti. I’m surprised she was aware for even that amount of time.”
“Hmm. Can you revive her? I want her to feel everything.”
Mia barely managed to avoid a gasp, but the doctor’s shocked squeaked seemed to mask her own lapse in even breathing.
“No, sir. Too much strain on the system. That really could kill her.”
“I don’t want that.” Aldo stroked her arm before cupping her breast. “I want to enjoy Mia for a long time to come. If she dies, you and your entire family will die very slowly and painfully, Sandoval.”
“I understand.” Rage and frustration underlay the doctor’s response.
Mia had to force herself to remain still as he pinched her nipple forcefully enough to make her eyes burn with unshed tears. The disgusting bastard had a painful death coming his way if she ever got the opportunity.
“Can I finish up here, Mr. Peretti? You make me nervous with your hovering.”
Aldo laughed, clearly delighted to intimidate someone else. “Yeah, okay. Do a good job making her cunt the tightest little virgin passage ever, and we’ll be square. Hell, I’ll even give you a discount on product in future.”
Mia flinched slightly at the revelation her doctor wasn’t quite the victim he’d painted himself to be.
“I quit that stuff last year. I’m trying to move on with my family, sir.”
“Yeah, you addicts all say that, but you always find your way back to the White Lady. Just like me and my little virgin. I always find her.” It sounded like he clapped the doctor on the shoulder before leaving the room.
“I’m done with it,” he whispered, though it was unclear if he was talking to himself or her.
Mia didn’t bother to reply. For one thing, she didn’t want Aldo to know she wasn’t actually unconscious, and she also didn’t have any fucks left to give for the doctor’s addiction issues. Her own problems were more important and pressing.
* * *
Giordano Peretti, rumored to be Sal Peretti’s favorite nephew, had pissed himself. Shane scowled at him as he pressed the barrel of his pistol a bit deeper into the yielding flesh of the other man’s temple. “I’m running out of patience, Gio. Where is Aldo?”
“I swear I don’t know, O’Mara.” The other man, down on his knees on the rough alleyway, sniffed. It was unclear if he was holding back tears, or if the smoke from his burning restaurant was irritating his nasal passages.
He kicked him in the thigh. “Do you want me to drag you back into that blazing building? Would anyone give a rat’s ass if you disappeared, Gio?”
“My uncle. Sal will destroy you.”
Shane hit him with the pistol upside his head. “Give me a clue where to look next, Gio, or your balls will part from your body and make their way somewhere you’ll never see them again.”
“Fuck, I don’t know.” Tears streamed from his eyes, and the other man started to shake. “Did you try Aunt Sofia’s? I think he visits her sometimes. She’s a lot like Aunt Stefania, so he must love her, right?”
“I don’t think Aldo loves anyone but himself.” Shane put his gun back in his holster and restored the fit of his jacket to hide it. “Get the fuck out of here, Gio, and don’t even think about warning any of your slimy relatives.”
Gio nodded and crawled a few feet before daring to get to his feet to run. He darted around the corner of the alleyway as Bruno came up to him.
“Think he’ll talk, boss?”
“Yeah, probably. Let’s go find Aunt Sofia.” Shane resolved he would try to be gentler with the aunt, since she was purported to be lik
e Stefania. That woman had done more for Mia than any other person in her entire life, so he owed her sister a debt too, if she was cut from the same genetic cloth.
Chapter Twenty
Mia must have fallen asleep during the procedure. She was surprised to see the light of dawn through the small window in the room where someone had put her. Aldo had let her sleep all night, either because the doctor had convinced him she needed time to recover, or because he was playing more of his sick waiting game with her.
Her vagina throbbed when she turned onto her side to survey the space where she lay. It was a Spartan space, with a thin mattress on the floor and a set of chains on the wall. Her heart lodged in her throat when she saw a rack of implements waiting to meet her body in painful and humiliating ways. Why else would he have her here if he didn’t plan to torture her?
Either he had an uncanny sense of timing, or the prick had been watching and waiting for her to wake up, because the door scraped open a moment later, and he came bounding in. The sight of Aldo in white scrubs was incongruous, since she had only seen him in designer wear before. Even his pajamas were expensive couture. She didn’t want to contemplate why he might be wearing clothing that would allow ease of movement and would be cheap enough to throw away if they got stained.
“Good morning, dear sister. Are you feeling purer this morning?”
She glared at him, but didn’t answer. Mia tried to avoid wincing as she got painfully to her feet, but couldn’t.
He laughed with delight. “Does it hurt? I hope so.” He tipped his head slightly. “You surprised me last night, Mia.”
“How so?” Her voice was raspy, but she wouldn’t ask him for water or anything else.
“You’re always so strong. So damned defiant and superior. You practically invite breaking down, smashing, and destroying.” His tone was somewhere between a whine of frustration and a purr of arousal. “I didn’t expect you to succumb to the easy way out.”
MAFIA: Dark Romance Collection Page 18