My Masters' Nightmare, Season 1 / Episode 13

by Marita A. Hansen

  I breathed out, realizing I was jealous of Matteo, which was wrong on so many levels, especially after what the Padre had done to him. When they’d first captured me, I had only been focused on Matteo, the man beyond handsome. But now, all I wanted was for Matteo to go away so I could have the Padre all to myself. Which was sick, and something I had to stop before it turned into more than attraction … more than a crush … before it fell into the world of obsession and love.

  I lifted the pillow again, willing myself to kill him. I wanted to have a good man, not a devil. The Padre called Matteo a demon, but Matteo wasn’t. He had a wicked sense of humor, but he never hurt people unless they attacked him—unlike the Padre, who had hurt innocents.

  I lowered the pillow over his face, but stopped an inch away from it, again unable to kill him. I should kill the monster for my brother. By doing nothing I was betraying Jagger. Still, maybe I could help Jagger in another way. Maybe I could make the Padre only want me so he would leave my brother alone. It wouldn’t be so bad. I actually looked forward to him coming to bed: to his touch, to his kisses, to the incredible way he called me his angel, saying how beautiful and pure I was, even though I wasn’t. I’d been tainted for so long, had nothing but disgusting hands touch me, use me… He used me, that was true, but in a way I enjoyed—wanted.

  Guilt hit me. I deserved to burn in Hell for thinking that. I hadn’t intended on enjoying it. I never got attached to a client … but the Padre wasn’t a client, he was my master. I’d never thought about what it would feel like for the slaves back at home. I had just assumed it was like my life at the brothel, since we didn’t have a choice who fucked us. But it wasn’t the same, because, although I didn’t have control of my body at the brothel, I wasn’t owned by anyone. I could also leave whenever I wanted to—unlike now, the soldier outside the door proving that.

  But where would I go to if I escaped the Padre? I had no partner back home. Although I idolized Frano, I could never be with him. He might not be blood, since he had a different father from Alberto, but it was still wrong to have a relationship with him. It was also impossible since he wasn’t gay, plus he considered me a relative. And the only other person I’d had a crush on was Matteo … and he was a cruel bastard, who constantly taunted me every time he passed by. Even worse, he did it to provoke the Padre, because I could tell he had no interest in me. Matteo liked highly masculine men, which was obvious with the way he drooled over that muscular soldier he’d captured as well as Alessandro. Which meant I didn’t have a chance with him; and after being fawned over by the Padre, I no longer cared. And right now, if I had to choose between them, it would be the Padre.

  I swore, knowing my head wasn’t right. This man had ruined lives, in particular my brother’s. I lowered the pillow for a third time, willing myself to suffocate him…

  But I couldn’t do it!

  I threw the pillow at the wall, screaming out in rage. The door opened, stilling me. One of the Donatelli soldiers poked his head inside. “Why are you making noise?” he barked.

  “I-I’m upset t-the Padre is hurt,” I stammered out, the man scaring me. He reminded me of Alberto with his fat stomach and apish face, not to mention he always leered at me. I wished they had put one of the other soldiers on the door—anyone but him.

  The soldier grinned, his dark eyes nasty. “You should be, fenucca, because if he dies, you die too.” His grin widened. “But only after I fuck your girlish cunt.”

  I blanched, knowing he meant it.

  He closed the door, his laughter still reaching me. I turned to the Padre, now having an even bigger reason not to kill him. I pulled up the sheet to his chin, then went and sat down on the chair, my fear growing by the second. Although the Padre’s wound wasn’t dire, he could still die from other things. After all, he was in his mid-forties.

  Noise came from the passageway, then the door swung open. The doctor who’d patched up the Padre walked into the room. His hair and eyes were gray while he had a haughty expression, which turned to disdain whenever he looked at the Padre. Although he didn’t appear to like the Padre, he was close to Christo, the two having embraced each other like long lost brothers. Though, I didn’t think they were, since they looked nothing alike. The doctor had more refined features, which looked aristocratic, while Christo was a hard-looking man, much more so than his twin.

  The doctor stopped in front of me. “I didn’t have time to ask before, but do you know who I am?”

  I shook my head, never having seen him before.

  “Good, and if you tell anyone about me helping the Padre, I will kill you and everyone you love. So, purge me from your memory.”

  My eyes widened. “I won’t say a word.”

  “Bene. Now, you and the Padre need to leave the island.”

  “Where will we be going?”

  “Russia.”

  “Why there?”

  “The Black Russian has agreed to accommodate you.”

  My eyes widened. “No, no, you can’t send me to him; he has a vendetta against my family.”

  “He has no vendetta against you, only the D’Angelo Don.”

  “But he’s a sex fiend.”

  The doctor laughed. “And the Padre isn’t?”

  “The Black Russian is worse. I’ve heard horror stories about him. He drinks his lovers’ blood like a vampire and tortures them.”

  “The drinking of blood is a myth.”

  “And the torture?”

  “Unfortunately, that’s real.”

  “Th-then do-don’t send me there.”

  “Truly, there’s no need to worry. The Black Russian respects ownership rights. He will not touch you unless the Padre gives him permission, and from what I’ve been told, the Padre rarely shares his lovers. Now, I have a question for you. Christo noticed that the soldier guarding your door was looking at you in a sexual manner earlier. Has the man threatened you?”

  I nodded. “He said he’d fuck me before killing me if the Padre dies. He also won’t stop leering at me.”

  “I can make that stop.” He opened the door, his gaze landing on the soldier. “Please come inside.”

  The soldier walked in, his face impassive, which it usually was when someone else was around.

  The doctor walked to the wooden cabinet and pulled out a syringe. “Take a hold of the boy,” he said without looking at the soldier.

  The soldier grabbed me, making me shriek. He pulled me to his body and wrapped his arms around me, locking me in place.

  The doctor walked towards me, holding the syringe out. “Do you know what’s in here?”

  Terrified, I shook my head.

  “It’s something that kills within seconds.” His gaze moved to the soldier. “Hold out his right arm.”

  The soldier forced my arm out. I screamed and tried to retract it, not understanding why the doctor wanted to kill me. He’d just told me I was going to Russia, yet here he was aiming the needle at my arm. He stopped a millimeter away from my flesh and gave me a smile, then in the blink of an eye he pushed the needle into the soldier’s arm, making the man yell out. The soldier let go of me and went to remove the needle, but instead stumbled backwards. I spun around as he collapsed to the floor, dead before he hit it.

  “People are so easy to kill, but harder to save,” the doctor said.

  I turned back to him, absolutely shocked at what he’d done. “Why did you kill him?” I asked, barely getting it out.

  “Christo told all his soldiers they would be killed if they even thought about touching what belonged to his brother.” The doctor threw the needle into the rubbish bin, then opened the door. “I need two soldiers to clean up a mess I’ve made.”

  Seconds later, two Donatelli soldiers walked into the room. They stopped in their tracks at the sight of their dead colleague.

  The doctor smiled at them. “He had a terminal case of lusting after the Padre’s slave. Do any of you have those symptoms?”

  They shook their heads vigorously.<
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  The doctor turned to me. “Are they lying?”

  “No,” I replied.

  The doctor’s gaze moved back to the soldiers. “This slave boy just saved your lives, so if I were you I’d be very nice to him when you escort him and the Padre to the Black Russian. And remember, if you even look at him wrong, like this vile cretin did,” he said, kicking the dead soldier, “Christo will find out and order your hits. Understood?”

  They both nodded, their eyes frightened.

  “Bene. Now, throw this garbage out for me.”

  The soldiers bent down and picked up the dead man, quickly leaving the room with him.

  Removing something from his pocket, the doctor held it out for me to take. I took it and looked down at the photo. It was a picture of my father when he was younger. My mother had numerous photos of him, the man beautiful like Jagger.

  I smiled, happy to have it. “Merci,” I said, looking up at him.

  “Why are you thanking me?”

  “For giving me a picture of my father.”

  “He’s not your father.”

  I frowned at him. “But he looks just like my father when he was younger.”

  “Because he’s your half-brother. His name is Brando Santini. Your father had an affair with Signora Santini. He is the outcome.” He sneered. “Your father was a despicable lothario who couldn’t control his urges, which ultimately culminated in his death.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Brando killed him.”

  My eyes widened. “But, Jagger said our father died in a Donatelli hit.”

  “If something bad happens, Jagger automatically assumes the Donatelli did it. Often it’s true, just not in this case.”

  “But why would Brando kill his own father?”

  “That’s not your concern. The only thing you should worry about is staying away from him. If he can kill his father so easily, he wouldn’t think twice about ending your life.”

  I blanched.

  “So, make sure you don’t go near him, and if you see him, walk the other way. He’s extremely dangerous.”

  I nodded my head vigorously.

  “Bene.” His phone went off. He pulled it out and clicked it on. “Okay, I’ll arrange it,” he said into it. “No problem, Christo, anything for you. Just don’t attack the Santini.” He frowned. “No, you don’t need to worry, the father won’t have long to live, I’ve made sure of that, and I’ll be back with them soon enough.” His eyes went to me. “Just a moment.” He pointed at the door. “Out, schiavo.”

  I left the room and leaned my back against the passage wall, surprised that the soldiers weren’t guarding it. But then again, they were probably busy dealing with the man the doctor had killed.

  The doctor started coughing, drawing my attention back to the room. It sounded like he was choking. I pushed the door open a fraction, but stopped, wondering why I would even consider helping him. He’d murdered a man right before my eyes. Although I was grateful the soldier was gone, I didn’t believe for a second that the doctor was a good person. And by his conversation with Christo, it sounded like he’d done something bad to the old Santini Don.

  The doctor stopped coughing. “I’m all right,” he said into the phone, “just swallowed the wrong way. What were we talking about?”

  I kept the door open a fraction, curious about him, especially since he was talking about the Santini, who I was supposedly related to.

  The doctor continued, “Sì, we were talking about Concetta. Sì, she’s still angry with me, but it won’t last long, and honestly, there’s no need to kill Ricardo, I’ve got things sorted. My daughter’s giving him the wrong medication. Oh, no, she doesn’t realize what’s in the syringes and there’s no way I would tell her. The silly girl is in love with the man.” He paused. “No, it won’t kill him; it just amplifies his IED outbursts. Soon enough he’ll have one so bad he’ll end up in the psyche ward, and of course, I’ll sign the papers.” He paused again. “Definitely not. Salvatore won’t take over; he doesn’t want to be a Don. I want Brando in the role. He’s easily manipulated by his mother and in turn, I’ll manipulate her, so in essence, I’ll be running the show.” He laughed. “See, Christo, I told you we’ll rule the roost together. Now, take care, I’ll talk to you later.”

  I quickly moved away from the door as he hung up. It opened a few seconds later. The doctor stepped through it, his eyes sweeping the passage. “Where are the soldiers?”

  “Probably dealing with the dead one.”

  “They still should’ve sent someone else up. Just go back into the room and watch the Padre, while I’ll go look for the useless shits.” He walked off down the passage.

  I reentered the room and went to the Padre’s side. He opened his eyes and looked up at me, his blue eyes so pale. A smile slowly formed across his sleepy face. He lifted his arms. “Hug me, my angel.”

  I leaned down, letting him wrap his arms around me, knowing he was my life now—whether I liked it or not.

  4

  MATTEO

  I opened my eyes, not looking forward to the new day. I had to exchange Alessandro for the ransom, then take my auntie to her one-way ticket to Russia, not something I was happy about. Christo was fucking selling her! Who sold their own niece? A ruthless motherfucker, that was who. I was just lucky he liked me, otherwise I was sure he’d sell me too.

  My eyes moved to the man sleeping next to me. The Landi soldier was bound, gagged, and gloriously naked. He was exactly my type: heavily muscled and hairy with a nice fat cock. Just a pity I wasn’t his. There had been only a few men I hadn’t been able to convince to fuck me, and even in the short time I had with this one, I knew he wasn’t going to break. And right now I had too much on my plate to keep on trying, not to mention I was getting bored with the game I was playing with him. Anyway, after seeing Alessandro, I decided I wanted a Santini instead, and since Alessandro wasn’t going to let me ride him, I was going to have a crack at his brother Dominic. Although Dominic had a pretty boy face, I liked his style, which was messy as fuck. The guy was tattooed and pierced to the hilt, even had a small bullring in his nose. He also passed my cock test: I got a hard-on every time I saw him sing on stage. And since Alessandro didn’t want to play, I would snag me a different Prince Albert. I just hoped Dominic had a big cock like his younger brother.

  I prodded the soldier, wanting to wake him up. He opened his eyes and looked straight at me, making me shiver.

  “Fuck, you’re hot,” I said.

  He grimaced.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know you’re straight; I’m sick of hearing it.” I pointed to his gag. “Hence that, and since you won’t fuck me, I have to decide what to do with you.”

  He said something, the gag muffling his words.

  I pulled it down so I could understand him.

  “Free me,” he said, his Barry White voice making my cock twitch.

  “No can do, you’ll give me and my uncles away. So, I need to kill you or find a way to keep you alive without getting me and my own killed in the process. Any suggestions?”

  “Why are you even considering keeping me alive?”

  “Simple: I don’t like killing hot men.”

  “You’re weird.”

  I smiled. “Thank you. Now, any suggestions?” I said, running my finger over the scar next to his eye.

  He jerked his head to the side. “If you free me, I won’t give you up, only your uncles.”

  “Nope, keep thinking.”

  “Ship me out of the country.”

  “You’ll find your way back and hunt down my family.”

  “Then keep me with you.”

  “I can’t be bothered keeping you around if you’re not going to fuck me.”

  “I can’t get hard over a man. It’s not physically possible.”

  I smiled wider. “You just solved my problem.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll sell you to a woman.”

  “What woman?”

 
“I have a lot of clients. I know a few who like rough men.” My mind went to a Japanese heiress. “You like Asian chicks?”

  He nodded.

  “Good, I’ll ring her and maybe get a couple million for you.” Happy with myself, I pushed out of bed and got dressed, then grabbed my gun and phone. Slipping my gun into my pants, I walked out of the room, calling for Christo.

  A soldier got up from the plastic covered couch, the fat prick lazy. “He’s gone to see his twin.”

  “When will he be back?” I asked, wishing we had better soldiers. Unfortunately, the majority of the good ones had been slaughtered in the raids, only leaving us with the dregs that hadn’t been at work that day.

  The soldier repositioned his package, making me grimace. “He won’t,” Fugly muttered. “He said he’s too busy, but will meet you at the airstrip after you make the exchange for the Santini man.”

  I nodded. “Then you can stay back and watch the Landi soldier.” I headed for the couch and sat down, keying my client’s number into my phone. One of her male servants answered. I asked for Sayuri, getting put straight through to her.

  “How wonderful to hear from you, Matteo,” she said. “Have you found me a new treasure?”