I accidentally catch the eyes of the man closest to me, and he smirks and then blows me a kiss, making my stomach feel sick. I don’t want to start this out by being weak enough to empty the contents of my stomach, but I am pretty sure they are going to come out at some point.
Then, Cheng leaves the room along with the men he originally came in with; all but one who stands vigil in the corner. I guess heels supposed to make sure all these men participate so they can be initiated.
They begin to line up in front of me, and I take a deep breath, noting that a few in the back have different weapons and objects, even a baseball bat. I brace myself as the first one comes up. He forces me to look at him, yanking my head back by my hair. I grit my teeth as he lifts a hand up to my face, his thumb tracing my lips. That’s when I notice the finger armor he is wearing; it comes to a spike on the end that is likely very sharp. I don’t get a chance to think or react as he suddenly tears into my skin, ripping the side of my mouth open as I feel the hot blood trickle down my face.
He says something to me in Chinese and then spits in my eye. Immediately, he lets go and makes room for the next person as I try to rub his phlegm out of my ocular cavity. I am disgusted, and I know it is only the beginning.
I keep thinking as one after the other comes to me and does something in his own way that I am going to black out. I will pass out from the pain, and I will stop feeling it. That’s what brains under this much stress are supposed to do in order to save us, right? But as the man with the baseball bat approaches, three from the end of the line, there is no such luck. I let out a little squeal and feel instantly humiliated by all this. The raping hasn’t even begun, and I am already being such a pussy. But where is my father and his men? Why have I not been found and saved?
I try to channel all the strong women in the clan that I know have endured things like this; Mariana, for instance, but it doesn’t help. I am not her. I am not strong, I am a spoiled brat who has been so sheltered by my father all these years, and I didn’t even know it. I am pathetic.
He swings at my knee, and I cry out. I don’t know if it was hard enough to break it, but the pain is blinding all the same. I start to count the hits like a ritual...2...3....he hits me head....4...5...my other knee and my shin. But I begin to lose count, and all I can do is scream bloody murder over the chants he is growling into my ear. This is a word I know. "Biǎo zi"...."Bitch". I am their bitch. That is what they are telling me. And I believe it.
When it is all over, my whole body throbs and feels broken. There is no other way to describe it. The only mercy there is the fact that they do have someone come and take me to the bed like was promised. Not that I am looking forward to what comes next, but at least I am somewhere soft, and my binds are gone. I don’t think they believe I have the ability to escape anymore, between my head injury and whatever has been done to my knee. They are probably right. But the one thing I am reading, that I know I have to do, is stay awake. I know I have a concussion, but I don’t want to witness these men taking something from me that I was sure would always still be mine to give.
By some miracle, there is time alone, well, as alone as they will allow. I lay in the bed, staring at the blank, concrete ceiling, and my mind is pretty damn blank. I have nothing to think or care about anymore. Nothing but the pain, and if I think about that, I will either scream or chew my own arm off to get it to dull.
But then I hear them, the footsteps on the stairs, and the celebrating that is going on because these men get to fuck Aria Funar. What a useless name that is about to become. I might as well be a Gonzales or a Smith. Because that is all I will be worth until the day I die now, which might come sooner rather than later if they get any rougher with me, or if they ever give me the means I would need to end it myself. I imagine too long in a place like this will easily lead me to that kind of desperation.
I am surprised, something I didn’t think I could be anymore, as the first man in front of me is Cheng himself.
"I have decided that I want the honor of taking the virginity of Baptiste's daughter," he says so smoothly like he is doing me a kindness by this. Maybe he is. Maybe it is because he knows the rest won’t be gentle at all, which I suspect Cheng is just sick enough and wanting enough of my power and title to be. He is enjoying this in a different way than the others; the worst of them all, if I think on it long enough.
I say nothing, a silent prayer going up to whatever god may be listening because if I ever needed him, it is now. Cheng climbs onto the bed with me, plenty of onlookers behind him. Some have the decency to look away while others have their eyes glued to us like this is a fetish for them, and maybe it is. There are all kinds of people in this world. It takes all kinds to make it go round.
My panties are taken off so slowly, you would think this was some kind of first date or something the way he is handling this so delicately. My lip quivers, and I hate that I am giving him a reason to know that this is affecting me, but I can’t help it. This is a status symbol for me and my family. And even if it isn’t that...this would still hurt. It hurts my very soul to know that this is how I will experience sex for the first time. And for so many times to come until I am used up and broken just like it was promised.
I am exposed, and he slides up to me. I don’t know where to focus my eyes because I don’t want to make it intimate by looking at Cheng, but some of the men are pulling themselves out to enjoy the show. I don’t want to see that either. So, I close my eyes. I pretend that I am shopping or at a business meeting or having dinner with my brothers. Anywhere but here. But I still feel it when he slips inside. I am untouched; how can I not?
He breaks inside me, and even though he is gentle, the pain is searing. I feel it over all my other injuries and cry out as my injured knee jerks in response. I hear the sighs of Cheng in my ear. He is taking absolute pleasure in this, and I feel my last meal ready to come up. I hold it back, not wanting to throw up on Cheng. That is probably the worst thing I could do right now, right under trying to fight back. Lay here and take it. That’s what I have to do to survive, and I wonder when the moment will come when I no longer have the will to survive.
There is another line when Cheng is finished, wiping me up, yet another courtesy, but I don’t know if it’s for me or for his men. It could even be for himself; a show that his seed does not need to be mixing with those lesser than him.
I want to go to sleep and wake up again only when this is over as these men take their turns inside of me. Some of them whisper to me where others silently do their business and move on only minutes later. I know I have it easy, that this is not the worst of his men or the worst they will do. These men are gentle compared to what I know is coming for me if I stay here.
When they all finally leave, I curl into a ball, sobbing in silence until I fall asleep, and there are no dreams that come to comfort me.
Chapter Five
SALVATORE
I sit down with a scotch in hand, my leg over my knee as I sink into my couch. This is the place where I can relax and contemplate the things I have done and the things I will do. I don’t have to be just a ruthless killer or a sweet-talking businessman. I can be whatever combination I feel that I am at the moment. I can be quiet. But with the worry in my heart and now my phone ringing in front of me, I doubt that is what my night will be.
I look at the screen and know who it is before I answer. It is my guy, the tracker that Marcel wanted me to get involved with the disappearance of his sister, Aria Funar. The thing is, I am personally invested in this in a way most people around me don’t understand. I have been chasing that woman for years ever since she was old enough for me to consider. She is stunningly beautiful, both inside and out, but I have never been allowed to have her because of who I am, or rather, who I am not.
I answer the phone, my palm sweaty wondering if I will find out if she is okay or if she is somewhere that I couldn’t even wish on my worst enemy. Or dead. Which I don’t know if Marcel or me could handle.
"Yes?" I answer, anxious for the news.
"Mr. Moretti," he greets me, always with respect. He knows as well as anyone else he is at the mercy of my gun or even my hands if I have to use them instead. Even those that work directly with me fear me. It makes for a safe way of living but also makes those late nights very lonely. Not even a friend to share it with other than Marcel, who is generally busy with other tasks these days, like preparing to take over the Clan. "I have found what has happened to Aria," he continues, and I am all ears. "Baptiste has gone back on a deal with Cheng. She has been taken by him and his gang."
I suck in a breath, slamming my scotch down onto the coffee table. I don’t like this at all. They are ruthless men, the worst kind. I would even go as far as to say it makes the mafia look like Mother Teresa in comparison to their behavior. I can only imagine what she is enduring at the hand of these men, and I don’t like the thought at all. And all of it because her father fucked up. It isn’t fair. Not that life ever is, but for a woman like Aria, I wish that it could be.
"Thank you for the information, do you have an address for me?" I demand, pulling a pen from my pocket and writing down his response on the napkin that sits on my coffee table. Resourcefulness is a talent of mine. It certainly comes in handy for this business.
"Would you like me to inform Marcellus Funar also?" he asks.
"No, I think this is something I better tell him in person. As always, I appreciate your hard work and your discretion," I nudge before hanging up. It’s always good to remind employees of their place.
I sigh, knowing that I need to get my men on this sooner rather than later, and I need to make sure my name is not on this at all. I don’t want her running to me like I am her knight in shining armor all of a sudden, and I don’t want it to get back to her father either that I am the one getting her out. It just looks bad. It makes him look bad, and I don’t need to be the reason Baptiste Funar looks bad, especially if I ever stand a chance with her when this is all said and done.
I go to the men I keep in my house, the ones that are my personal security detail and make sure that no family member comes after me for revenge, and I get them to gather the rest of my men. They will be here in no time, and we will have to be smart about how we plan this rescue. Cheng is no dummy, and he is packing too. I don’t want my men to get killed in the process, or worse, Aria herself, which could easily happen with one wrong move.
I have another glass of scotch because this is about to be an awfully long night.
***
It is late when my men let Marcel into my place, and he comes and sits down next to me. I immediately make sure he gets a scotch as well. He looks worse for the wear, and I can only guess he has not been sleeping while waiting for news of his little sister. There are circles under his eyes, and he just looks bogged down with the world on his shoulders. He has not shaved in a few days either, which is not a typical look for him.
"You’re a mess." It isn’t a question I ask him, and he nods, rubbing his hands together nervously.
"I am assuming you called me here because you have news, and if you needed to see me in person, it can’t be good," he surmises as he picks up his drink to take a swig, holding it his mouth for a moment before swallowing. He can’t even look me in the eye. I am wondering if he assumes she is dead. And while that would be horrible, my personal fear is that by this point she wishes that she was.
"I assure you that she has been found and been found alive, but that doesn’t mean you are going to like where she is," I tell him, leveling with him. "You are aware of your father's deal with Cheng?" I ask him, and he narrows his eyes at me. I can tell the wheels in his head are already turning, and he suddenly hops up out of his seat angrily.
"Cheng has her? Why would he do that?" he asks, his anger clearly rising as his cheeks turn red. Marcel has always been quick to anger. Though, I have quite the outlet for mine, so I suppose me being calm is no great feat.
"Your father went back on a deal they had, and so Aria is paying the price."
Marcel sits down, clearly distraught. It is a lot to take in. His sister is in danger because of his own father. The mafia always did had some fucked-up family ties. "I have my men on it, though I don’t really want anyone to know I have my hands in this for several reasons," I tell him, trusting him with the information,. It might soothe him in some way, but he shakes his head.
"But what will become of her when she gets out of there, Sal?" he asks quietly, and I know what he means. Her worth is in her virginity just like any other Romanian woman. That is surely to be gone with Cheng getting a hold, of her. I don’t know what he will do, what claim he will try to have on her. I don’t know what condition she will be in when she gets out. But I doubt that Baptiste is going to find any joy in her from a business perspective anymore.
I shake my head, not knowing what to say. The truth would hurt right now, and there is no positive here other than that she will hopefully be alive and free soon.
"As my friend, Sal, I need you. I need you to help me," Marcel sys, completely emotional in a way I have never seen him. But he truly loves his family, especially his sister. He has not become the hardened man his father is yet.
"What is it, Marcel?"
"I want you to protect my sister. I want you to protect her for life." My eyes bore into his, and I know what he wants me to do. I will do it happily, no matter what it takes for me to succeed.
Chapter Six
ARIA
Day in and day out, my life is on a constant repeat. There is nothing that changes. I hate myself for the things that I have to accept, the things that I have to allow them to do to my body because I have no other option. If I refuse, I will die. There is not a doubt in my mind about that, and for some reason I’m not willing to give up on myself quite yet. I think I’ve been here for weeks, hell it could even be longer, but there is no way for me to tell. No clocks. No phones. Nothing. The only thing that tells me the days have changed is when the sun goes up and comes back down. I stopped counting after thirty five. It became too much work, and too sad to realize the number of days I’ve been here without any help from my family.
I thought for a while that they’d come to save me, whisk me away like some action movie, but I’m wrong. They aren’t coming, and it’s sad that I know that. What’s worse though, the fact that I know it, or that I’ve accepted it?
A short while ago I was given some sort of oatmeal combination, it smelled awful, however, I know that I must keep my strength up, so I ate it. Since then I’ve been sitting in the corner of my room, hands wrapped around my legs holding myself together. I’m afraid this position is the only one I sit in these days, the only way that I feel somewhat guarded. Even with my bum knee I deal with the pain, clenching my teeth when it gets bad but reminding myself that the pain is a reminder that I’m alive.
I allow myself to close my eyes, hoping that I can get a short nap in. Only a few moments later the iron door to my room flies open and slams shut behind it. Already, I wonder to myself. As I glance up I see that there are three men in here with me. One is big, it’s Mao, who is Cheng’s right-hand man. The other two are men who frequently come here, spilling their seed deep inside of me.
Mao comes stomping over to me, wraps his hand around my neck, and squeezes. I watch as the stern line of his mouth forms into a smile, dragging me up he slams me into the metal wall, and I feel my cheek being caught by something. Suddenly, a burning feeling spreads across me, and I feel warmth. I’m bleeding, damn metal must’ve caught my face somehow. I have one hand on my neck trying to pull his hand away, barely able to pull a breath in while the other goes to my cheek, trying to stop the bleeding. I don’t think the cut was deep but feel the thickness of my blood spreading across my face.
He pulls my knee back, dropping his hand from my neck, and I scream bloody murder, never feeling anything this awful in my entire life. That is, until he slides himself inside of my ass. This is the worst feeling that I’ve eve
r felt, being stretched wide in a way that I know I’m not supposed to, the friction of his movements making me whimper in agony. Blood spreads across my face as tears intermix with it. Mao grunts and groans in pleasure as I clench my teeth and close my eyes, praying to God that it will be over with soon. That’s when my hair is yanked down and one of the other men’s cock’s is shoved in my mouth. I breathe slowly through my nose as he slams himself down my throat, something that I’ve had to learn how to do or else I’ll pass out. But maybe it would be better for me to do that, to pass out and not have to remember the ways that they’re violating my body.
Out of nowhere, Mao says something to the other one. I don’t speak their language, so I don’t know what he’s ordering him to do, and I only say order because he sounds authoritative. Suddenly, the third has his hand squeezing my clit, and I feel my body do something that it never has. I don’t know how to explain this...this warmth that’s taking over me. It feels odd but not because I’ve never felt it before, because I think that I shouldn’t be feeling this with them. This is something that I know in my heart should only happen with my husband, and for a moment my mind drifts off into what my life may look like if I ever get out of here. Will I even be married off now? I probably won’t. I know what will happen if I go back to my family, how they will look at me differently. Especially my father. I might even be too damaged to be of value to the family anymore.
I’m brought back into the moment when I feel someone slamming their cock into my pussy, every hole inside of me filled, and I feel disgusted, bile boiling up at the bottom of my throat. All of them moving, feeling their filthy hands all over me, touching me in ways that no one should. I can’t do this anymore.
I make a gagging sound to where the man in front of me doesn’t move an inch, continuing to thrust inside me for a few moments until the contents of my stomach cover him. He gasps, running out of the room, while Mao and the other man chuckle, continuing to do their business until they release themselves inside of me and leave the room. Only for me to find comfort in the silence.
Deceit (The Clans Book 4) Page 2