by Penelope Sky
“Italy. But we’re close to France.”
I wished I had a map to determine where I was. I didn’t even know where the embassy was. I doubted there were several of them. There was probably just one in a major tourist area. “When I was on the cargo ship on the way here from America, I killed that man with a gun. I didn’t feel bad for doing it. There was no guilt or remorse. And when I actually enjoyed it, I realized there was something wrong with me.”
He turned his head my way, intrigued by the confession. “Taking someone’s life is the greatest sign of power.”
“One of the men tried to rape me. So I punched him in the dick, and I’m pretty sure I broke it. I doubt he’ll ever be able to take a piss again without being in pain.”
He laughed quietly, and his hand moved to my thigh. “That’s why I like you so much. You’re strong. You aren’t weak like all those other pathetic women.”
Just because they were scared didn’t mean they were pathetic. It infuriated me that he spoke of my own kind that way. Women had not been treated as equals for as long as time. But I held back my anger and pretended his words meant nothing to me. I had to focus on what was important. Escape was the priority. I could get my justice later. “What do you do for a living?”
“How do I make money?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m an arms dealer.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant. Did that refer to weapons? It wouldn’t surprise me.
Even though he stared out the window, he understood my confusion. “I create weapons and sell them to the highest bidder. Each weapon is exclusive, so whoever buys it is the only one who has one like it in the world.”
That was a morbid twist of morality.
“People pay me more for the exclusivity.”
I truly was in the presence of a maniac. He was a solicitor of drug warfare. He was the kind of man the United States was always hunting. He was right under my nose. He was the man thrusting inside me.
Disgusting.
“Impressive.” I kept up the façade. “I’m not even sure how to begin an empire like that.”
“It takes time,” he explained. “And money.”
I looked out the window and felt my longing increase. I hadn’t been outside in months. I wanted to feel the breeze in my hair as I moved down the sidewalk. The sunshine needed to touch my skin. I wanted to smell coffee right when I walked into a café. I placed my hand against the glass just to feel the coolness of winter. The mansion I occupied was warm with central heating. But I longed for the frostiness. I longed for the snow.
After twenty minutes of driving, we pulled into a sea of warehouses. They were gated off and inaccessible unless you checked in with the guard up front and provided a code. The guard practically bowed to Bones when he provided his clearance information.
How did a twisted freak like him accumulate so much power? Did money really provide anything you wanted? Would people look the other way for the right price? Is that what the world came down to? Money?
We drove into the complex then arrived at one of the warehouses. It was deep blue and unmarked. There wasn’t a sign or a single address located anywhere. Each building looked identical to the next. How did he tell them apart?
“Come with me.” He extended the crook of his arm.
I eyed it, unsure what to do.
He extended it farther, watching me with disapproval. “Disobey me, and I’ll beat you right here.”
I slipped my arm through his, keeping my eyes averted in a gesture of submission. My hesitance didn’t stem from defiance. I simply didn’t understand what he wanted. He never gestured to me like that. The only times he wanted me to touch him was when I sucked him off.
We entered the building and saw the factory hard at work. A conveyor belt brought in bits of metal before it was forged and painted under a heavy fire. It went to the next stage where workers assembled pieces together. Like ants within a hill, they worked silently.
I tried to hide my shock, but my face wouldn’t cooperate. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There was no way this was legal. How did the Italian authorities not understand what was going on? How did they not catch him? The only explanation I could come up with was a bribe. He must have paid them off.
Bones walked me farther into the factory, not acknowledging his employees as he moved. They didn’t look at him either, even though they knew exactly who he was. We passed different assembly areas, weaving through several sections. The heat from the factory was uncomfortable. My coat felt too heavy as the humidity stuck to me. Ash was in the air, and it burned my lungs with every breath I took. The workers were in the poorest conditions I’d ever seen.
We rounded a corner and reached a room where men sat along a table. With small brushes, they painted every detail on the metal of the assembled guns, touching up imperfections and making them available for distribution. Masks covered their faces so they didn’t inhale paint fumes. Since there was so much filth in the air, what did it matter?
One man sat with his head down at the table. He didn’t seem to be tired, but broken. His hand still gripped the brush while the other rested in a bowl of black paint.
Was he okay?
Bones spotted him, and the mirthless glare he showed was enough to get everyone’s attention. The men glanced at him but kept working, doing their best to keep their heads down and go unnoticed.
Bones left my side and approached the man slumped over the table. He grabbed him by the shoulder and jerked him harshly. In Italian, he screamed in his face.
I didn’t speak Italian and couldn’t recognize a single word. But I didn’t need to understand the language to know what was being said. Bones’s face turned blood red as he screamed into the man’s face. It reminded me of the times he screamed at me, just before he smacked me hard across the face.
Bones grabbed him by the collar and dragged him onto the ground. He pressed his dirty boot against the man’s head and forced it against the concrete.
Like nothing was going on, the other men continued working. The sound of machines working never faded from the background. The pistons still compressed air, and the conveyer belts still hummed. Nothing was out of the ordinary.
Bones pulled out a pistol and pointed it at the man’s head, still screaming in Italian.
My first reaction was to intervene and protect the poor man lying on the floor. But that would blow my cover and probably get me killed as well. There was nothing I could do but stand back and hope this ended in a nonviolent way.
But it didn’t.
Bones shot him right in the head. A pool of blood instantly formed underneath the body, and the man’s eyes remained rigidly open.
I flinched slightly as the sound echoed off the walls. I felt sick to my stomach. The nausea burned up my throat, and I wanted to pass out. My mind was disturbed, more disturbed by murder than all the terrifying things he did to me. But I had to keep a straight face. I had to keep moving forward. Otherwise, I would never get out. I had to focus on survival.
He blew on the smoking gun before he inserted it into the back of his waistband. He stepped over the body like it wasn’t there then returned to me, appraising my face for a reaction.
I held his gaze and remained as stoic as possible, unsure what kind of reaction he wanted.
“That’s power.” He spoke over the sound of the factory, not caring about the other workers eavesdropping on what he said. “I felt no remorse or guilt. I pulled the trigger and felt good doing it.” He echoed my own words back at me, but he missed the context entirely.
I shot someone to survive—not to be a fucking asshole.
He nodded to the workers who didn’t break their stride during the commotion. They focused on their tasks, ignoring the dead body oozing out blood. “And they keep on working because they know what happens when they step out of line.”
That wasn’t power. That was ruling by fear. Big difference.
“The road to absolute power isn’
t an easy one. But when you get there, the world bows to you.”
I will never bow to you.
He grabbed my arm and guided me from the room.
I let him take me because I wanted to get away from the body. I wanted to get away from the smell of death. This imprisonment was making me realize just how weak I really was. I always thought I was strong like steel, but now I understood the truth.
I’d never really been tested until now.
***
When we returned to the mansion, Bones followed me to my room. With every step closer, I feared what would happen next. He’d left me in peace for nearly a week now. Did I have a false sense of security from being spared for so long?
He walked in behind me and removed his clothes, shedding each article onto the floor.
The fear crept in.
Maybe my plan didn’t work at all. Maybe it just made him more obsessed with me. Made him want to hurt me even more.
He came behind me and pulled my jacket off, tossing it on the floor along with his things. Then he unzipped my dress and yanked that off viciously, not caring how expensive it must have been. Money didn’t mean anything when you had enough of it.
He grabbed me by the neck and threw me hard on the bed.
We were back to normal.
He climbed on top of me and smacked me hard in the ass. But it didn’t have the painful bite all the others had. It stung, but not unbearably so. His large hand yanked my underwear off then he shoved himself inside me.
I lay on my stomach and tried to remain calm. The more I fought, the more it hurt.
Bones thrust inside me but not in the violent way he’d done before. If anything, his strokes were gentle. He rocked into me like waves hitting the shore of a lake. He pressed his chest into my back and rested his face in the crook of my neck. He breathed in my scent and moaned as he buried his dick in me.
It was the tamest sex we’d ever had.
I still didn’t want it. That was clear by how dry I was. I couldn’t mask my repulsion of being taken against my will. His long dick was inside me, and I hated every second of the intrusion. But it was different, somehow.
It was bearable.
I wasn’t slapped with a belt or punched in the face. I wasn’t fucked in the ass or the mouth. I was taken gently, with fragility. I was a warm body to get off to, but I wasn’t a punching bag.
He’d never treated me this well.
Did I succeed? Did I make him look at me in a different way? Would I be shoved around less? Would my existence be more tolerable? If I waited long enough, could I convince him to let me go?
The thoughts swirling in my head distracted me from my current position. I didn’t focus on the way he grunted every time he shoved himself inside me. I didn’t pay attention to the sweat of his chest as it rubbed against my back. All I thought about was freedom—and how close it was.
Chapter Nine
Crow
I left the path through the olive trees and turned to the dirt road leading up to the house. My chest heaved with the exertion, and the muscles in my legs twitched from the flow of blood.
My morning run was always exactly the same. I waited until the sun barely crested over the hill, blanketing the valley with intermittent sunlight. The grapes on the vines glinted with juice, and the dew on the leaves sparkled. The air had a hint of morning frost, which burned every time it entered my lungs.
I pulled my hood down as I slowed to a walk. The three-story house made of cobblestones looked glorious under the Tuscan sun. The ancient windows hinted at a different time, and the ivy stretching from the ground to the roof on the eastern side made it a masterpiece in the middle of nowhere.
The only time I left my home was for work. There was simply nowhere else I wanted to be.
I came around to the front entrance then ascended the steps leading to the double doors. One of my guards emerged out of nowhere and handed me a cold bottle of water. I took it with a quick nod then walked inside.
“How was your run, sir?” Lars, my butler, greeted me by the door.
“Good.” I took a large drink of water before I stretched my legs.
“Master Cane is here to see you. He’s in the tea room.”
Irritation sprang out of me instantly. “What does he want?”
“He said it’s private.”
That’s what he always said. “I’ll see him after I shower.”
“Of course, sir. What would you like for breakfast?” He followed me to the staircase and took the empty bottle of water from my hand.
“Black coffee. Egg whites.” It was the same thing I ordered every day, but he still insisted on asking.
“It’ll be ready when you return.” He drifted away, the plastic bottle still held in his hand.
“Thank you, Lars.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
***
I took my time getting ready just to avoid him. My rage had been worse this week than ever before. The nightmares came for me every time I closed my eyes, and Vanessa’s dead face was always the main star.
Lars told me to stay active, to exhaust myself out of my dreams entirely. But it didn’t matter how much running, boxing, or swimming I did. My dreams always turned out the same—my sister dead in my arms.
I entertained myself with thoughts of the way I would kill Bones. It had to be executed perfectly. Men like us were difficult to break, but I would find a way to make him crack like all the others. Perhaps I would skin him alive. Maybe I would insert needles into his eyes until he was completely blind. Maybe I would chop off his dick and make him watch a pack of hounds eat it—if there was enough to go around.
None of my actions took place without being carefully plotted. I wasn’t impulsive or impatient. I needed to wait until I was absolutely certain of my tenth move before I made my first.
I was a bit controlling.
I entered the tea room and saw my brother sitting in the armchair near the fire. Right on cue, Lars brought breakfast and coffee for both of us, silently setting up the table with both grace and speed. He walked out a moment later, shutting the doors behind him.
I took a seat in the other chair but didn’t touch anything on the table. We both waited until Lars was gone until we spoke a word to each other. I trusted my employees to take my secrets to the grave, but that didn’t mean I gave up information willingly. “What do you want?”
Cane poured himself a cup of coffee and rested his ankle on the opposite knee. He wore a suit and tie because he just left the facility. Despite our genetic link, we looked vastly different from one another. His face wasn’t as carved as mine, and his thick muscles made him burly. I was the opposite. My features were clear and distinct, and my body was ripped and toned. I preferred the lean and strong look. I was faster, quicker, and packed a lot of strength in a single punch. If you asked me, my brother’s bulkiness made him slower, his reaction time prolonged—which was why I always kicked his ass in a fight. “Are you always this grouchy first thing in the morning? I feel sorry for Lars...” He drank his coffee black, holding the cup by the stem like he was from royalty.
“I’m always this grouchy when I look at you.” I poured my coffee and drank it black just the way he did. There was no other way to savor the rich beans. I’d told him I wanted to be alone—several times. The only person I could stand was Lars. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t feel entitled to explanations. He did his job without passing judgment. He just existed alongside me, there when I needed him and absent when he wasn’t welcome.
“How was your run?”
I hated small talk. “Is there something you wanted to discuss?”
“Always right to the point...” He pulled a folded piece of paper from the pocket inside his jacket. “I got some intel on Bones.”
“Anything helpful?” Maybe he had a special relationship with one of his servants. Maybe he had a soft spot for one of his employees. If there were someone he cared about, we would know.
“Actual
ly, yes. It seems as though Bones bought another slave right after...” He didn’t finish the sentence because neither one of us needed to hear it. We didn’t wear our hearts on our sleeves because neither one of us had one. “She’s American.”
“What’s your point?” I didn’t care who Bones’s next victim was. Hopefully, she had a quick and painless death.
“One of our guys on the inside said he brought her to his factory in northern Italy.”
I was about to sip my coffee but quickly changed my mind. “He showed everything to her?”
He nodded. “Apparently, he executed a man who had passed out from a seizure. What a show-off.” He chuckled and examined the paper. “But that’s not the most interesting part. He has tickets to the opera this Saturday. Guess who he’s taking with him.”
I didn’t need the answer. Bones had kept slaves throughout his entire career. They stayed in the house, never to be seen by a witness. He did what he wanted until he discarded them. He never displayed them publicly or treated them as anything but dogs.
This one was different.
“What do you think it means?”
“I’m not sure,” Cane answered. “But I can only assume he has a special fondness for this one.”
I was drawing the same conclusion.
“You’ll never guess how much he paid for her.”
I’d never heard anything over a million. “One point five.”
He read off the paper, a smile on his lips. “Three.”
I held the mug in my hand but didn’t take a drink. Steam rose into my face, but I didn’t notice it. All I could concentrate on was the sound of my brother’s voice. “Three million dollars?”
He nodded. “He went all out for this one.”
I couldn’t wrap my mind around that. It was the largest bid I’d ever heard—for a slave. It didn’t make sense to spend so much money on a slave who would just die in a few years.
“My sources say she’s unnatural.”
“Unnatural?”
“She’s exquisite. Divine. Gorgeous. Something out of this world. One of my guys said she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Long brown hair, blue eyes, and she has legs that stretch on for days.” He whistled quietly. “Now I need to see her for myself.”