Jordan's Redemption: Bad Boy Mafia Dark Romance book (The Generals' Sons 2)

by Veronica Cane

  He took her to the living room where a man was sitting on an armchair. He was obviously foreign, but she wasn’t able to determine his race, not until he spoke.

  "This is her?" he asked, in a very cold tone. He got up and crossed his muscled arms over his broad chest.

  Tall, with dark, curled hair, and the darkest blue eyes, Ashley had ever seen, the man was incredibly handsome, but something in him scared her like hell. There was something dark in him, something that made her feel very uncomfortable near him.

  "Yes, this is the cunt." Wilson forced her to step forward, closer to the man, and she almost cried out. His threat was still ringing in her ears, but she had to struggle very hard to keep herself still under the scrutiny of his look.

  "Let her go, I want to see her." The man ordered, and Wilson released her and took a step back.

  For a moment, Ashley felt the urge to run away from there, but the man's look was more than enough to keep her frozen where she was.

  He looked at her, head to toe, and even walked around her, looking thoroughly as if she was a piece of meat on display.

  "Yes, it's not bad. I'm sure I can work with it and get something out of it." The man said, in a very cold tone.

  "If you couldn’t, no one else would, I'm sure." Wilson flattered the man.

  "And you say that I can take her with me right now? I thought Jordan hadn't decided yet."

  "Yes, he hadn’t, last time you talked to Marcus, but now he has. He was going to call you as soon as he returned from Honduras." Wilson explained.

  "Good thing that I decided to come, then."

  Ashley followed the men's conversation, trying to understand what was going on, not liking what her instincts were telling her. "What the hell are you two talking about?" she asked, more scared than anything.

  The man's hand flew across the room and hit her in the face, throwing her to the floor. "You haven’t been allowed to talk, slave." He said, still cold-livered, barely looking at her.

  Biting down on her lips to hold back the tears welling up in her eyes, Ashley stood up, struggling to control the shuddering of her body.

  This couldn’t be happening, she couldn’t believe Jordan was really doing this to her.

  "You haven’t explained to her what is going to happen?" The man asked Wilson, not very pleased.

  "No, I thought you would like to do the honors." Wilson answered, obviously pleased with Ashley's ordeal.

  "Very well." The man turned to look at Ashley, his hands crossed behind his back, his eyes locked on hers. "My name is Ivan Korsakov, and Jordan has given you to me. From now on, you'll be mine, my slave, at least, until I manage to sell you to the highest bidder." He explained as shock washed over her when she realized this was really happening.

  "He can't do that. He doesn’t own me." She cried out, her hand brushing her face.

  "Oh, yes, I believe he did, and now I do. And you better accept that reality as fast as possible. It will be better for you."

  "No, never, I rather die." She ranted.

  "Dead, you have no value for me, so I'm afraid that's out of the question." He replied in his hideous cold tone.

  "As you can see, you'll have to train her from scratch. She still hasn’t accepted her new role in life." Wilson said with an evil smile.

  "Oh, she will, and very fast too, I'm sure. I'm glad Jordan made up his mind. This way, I'll be able to prepare her for the next auction in Alexandria." Ivan added, very pleased.

  Ashley looked at both men, shuddering so badly she was having trouble keeping herself standing. They couldn’t do this to her. She had to find a way out. She looked at the door leading to the kitchen and took a small step towards it.

  Ivan must have sensed her intentions because he took a step closer to her, standing in her way. "Stay still. One of the things you'll learn about me is that I don’t tolerate disobedience. And that disobedience is severely punished. Do you understand?" he warned her, in a very cold tone.

  "You have no right to do this." She protested before he hit her another time.

  "You are only allowed to answer the questions I ask you. Your comments or remarks have no place here. Now, let me repeat the question: do you understand?" he explained, patiently.

  "Yes." She answered, unable to hold back a sob.

  "From now on, you'll refer to me as Master. Each time you fail to do so, you'll be punished, is that clear?" he informed her. The man was a real ice rock, no emotions, no feelings were expressed, not through his words nor through his eyes or his expression.

  She looked at him, shivering, wishing to send him to hell, but she realized that wasn’t a good strategy. "Yes, Master." She answered through gritted teeth.

  He smiled and caressed her cheek. "See, you're learning." He turned to look at Wilson. "Do you think I can take her with me now?"

  "Yes, of course. I'm sure Jordan will be relieved when he finds out you took the problem off of his hands." Wilson answered, with a very pleased smile on his face.

  "Good." The man went back to the chair he had been seated in and picked up a bag from the floor, and brought it close to where Ashley was standing, under the watchful eye of Wilson. He rested the bag on a chair nearby and picked something out of it. "Get on your knees, slave." He ordered her, and for a moment she considered disobeying, but her face was still stinging from the previous slaps, so she slowly kneeled in front of him, still struggling to believe this was really happening, that it wasn’t a nightmare. She hadn’t expected Jordan to actually sell her to a slaver, she had always thought those were empty threats.

  The man approached her with something in his hands that she didn’t recognize at first, not until he stretched it in front of her and wrapped it around her neck. It was a collar, a black leather collar, like the ones she knew people into BDSM used. He buckled it up on her nape and locked it with a padlock, not too tight, but tight enough to make her notice it.

  He returned to the bag and returned with two leather cuffs. "Present me your wrists." He ordered, and she did so, raising her shaky arms. He proceeded to fasten the cuffs to her wrists, before taking them to her back, and locking them together there. She even felt as he connected a short chain from her collar to her cuffs. "There, you're ready." He helped her up and turned to look at Wilson. "Well, my friend, I'm ready to go."

  "It was a pleasure seeing you again, Ivan. And I wish you luck with that little slut." Wilson said with a devious smile.

  "Thank you. Make sure to tell Jordan I'll be in touch soon." Ivan said, grabbing her by her elbow and leading her out of the house.

  Desperate, realizing the imminent departure, Ashley struggled, trying to free herself from the man's grip. "No, no… you can't do this. I want to talk to Jordan. He can't be doing this to me, no, I refuse to believe it."

  The man stopped and looked at her with his ice cold eyes. "Do you enjoy being punished, slave?" he asked in a very calmed tone.

  "Please… you can't do this." She insisted, tears finally rolling down her cheeks. "Let me talk to Jordan, I'm sure there has been a misunderstanding."

  "No, there isn’t." he grabbed her chin and towered over her. "You better accept your destiny, or things will be worse for you. In the end, I win. I always do. The only difference will be the path you choose: an easy one, of acceptance, or a painful one, where you struggle every step of the way. For me, either one is the same."

  Ashley sobbed, terrified, as millions of terrible images swirled wildly through her mind. "Please, I'm begging you. Let me talk with Jordan one last time." She tried once more, through sobs.

  "No, there's nothing more to talk about." He answered, unshaken. "Accept that he doesn’t want you anymore and embrace your destiny. If you play your cards right, you might even enjoy it. Now, let's go."

  Tears stained her face, as he dragged her out of the house and into an SUV that took them to the airport where a private jet was waiting for them. In just a few minutes the plane was flying away from Miami, leaving behind Ashley's crushed heart.
>
  Chapter 12

  Back in Honduras, Jordan was ready to surprise the Marquez boys. According to Jude's men, they were already inside, with three more men, all armed. One of them was Hernandez, and Jordan made sure to point him out to Jude. He wanted that son of a bitch down. No one played with him and got away with it.

  Wearing a bulletproof vest, a hidden camera, and microphone, he was ready to go in. He was looking forward to seeing how this would play out.

  Silently, he entered the warehouse and followed the voices to the back. Nicholas was the first one to see him, from the chair where he was leaning back.

  "Jordan!" he shouted, almost falling out of the chair, as he got up. The other four men, that had been inspecting the cargo, turned to see him walk in as if he owned the place, with their guns pointing at him.

  "Well, well, well… you guys look very busy." He said in a sarcastic tone.

  "Jordan, what a hell are you doing here?" Jonathan asked, barely hiding his rage.

  "You see, Jonathan, it came to my attention that there was a new Venezuelan drug supplier in the international market, and that was quite a surprise to me since our cartel handles all of the drug that comes out." Jordan explained, faking a calmness he didn’t feel. His wish was to destroy them all, but he needed evidence and he was going to get it.

  "I have no idea what you are talking about." Jordan belied the facts. "This cargo belongs to the cartel."

  "Yes, Jonathan, indeed it does. Or should I say, it did? Because we both know the stuff you have there, is the drugs you two lost a few weeks ago." Jordan stated, sarcastically. "And now, I discover it has appeared miraculously, in your power."

  "I… I have no idea what you are talking about." Jonathan insisted.

  "Of course, you do." Ignoring the guns still pointing at him, Jordan closed the distance between him and the drugs and picked up one of the original packages. "You see, I suspected your little game for some time now, so I decided to set up a trap. With the help of our Colombian friends, I had them mark the drugs you and your cousin would be handling. As I expected, you guys lost another significant part of the cargo, that you weren’t able to recover. It was just a matter of time and patience for me to find out where you were taking the drugs to sell them. And here we are. And here are the drugs." Jordan explained, showing the tiny mark on the package he was holding.

  "No, you've lost your mind. You have always hated Nicholas and me, and you have been looking for a way to get rid of us. This… this is the part of the drugs that wasn’t stolen." Jonathan replied, with a pleased smile, over his way out of this problem.

  Jordan shook his head. "The drugs that weren’t stolen were sent directly to Miami. All the packages are in the hands of Marcus, so you better look for a better excuse."

  Seeing himself lost, Jonathan dropped his mask. "You will never be able to prove any of this, taking into consideration the remote possibility of you getting out of here alive."

  "Are you adding murder to your list of sins, Jonathan? Along with theft and kidnap? Before I end all this I want to know whose idea was it to kidnap my woman."

  Jonathan looked at him as if he had lost his mind, but Nicholas became very pale, as well as Hernandez, who had moved discreetly to the back of the place.

  Jonathan looked at his cousin with a smirk of despise. "You kidnapped his whore? You endangered all our operation over a cunt?"

  "I have no idea… what he's talking… about. The woman is still with him." Nicholas stammered.

  "Yes, she is, because she outsmarted you and managed to run away from your stupid minion." Jordan ranted. "I should simply but a bullet to your head, here and now but I believe it's only fair to let the cartel handle your fate."

  "Always so arrogant, Jordan. You always considered yourself better than everybody else." Jonathan said raising his gun and pointing it at Jordan. "You're the one who will end up with a bullet between your eyes."

  "I don’t think so."

  The bastard really pulled the trigger. Fortunately, Jordan was fast, and the bullet only grazed his arm, but the shot unleashed hell, and Jude's men, along with Marcus and Jude himself, stomped inside the place, firing.

  When they finally controlled the scene, Nicholas and Hernandez were dead, the other two men were also dead, but Jonathan was missing, along with one of the smallest suitcases with the drugs. On their side, they had had one single casualty, amongst Jude's men.

  "Damn, damn. How the hell did that bastard escaped?" Jordan asked.

  "He used Hernandez as shield and ran out the back door. The man is a scoundrel." Marcus explained.

  "I'll find him. Don’t worry about that." Jude assured, obviously furious with Jonathan's escape and the loss of one of his men. "We need to clean this place up before the Honduran cartel shows up."

  "Yes, go ahead." Jordan agreed.

  "You better go take a look at your arm. You seem to be bleeding too much." Jude advised.

  Jordan looked at his own arm, and saw the red stain of blood on his white shirt.

  "It's just a scratch, nothing to worry about." He dismissed the other man's concern. "I just want to get back to Miami, as fast as possible."

  "This won't take us long. Why don’t you go back to the hotel with Marcus? Take the drugs with you, we'll stage the scene to look as clean as possible." Jude suggested.

  "Yes, that would be the best. Did you get it all recorded?"

  "Of course, loud and clear. The cartel will have no doubts about what happened here, you can be sure of it."

  "Good. Marcus!" Jordan called out to his friend that was standing next to Nicholas Marquez body. "We need to get this stuff out of here."

  "Sure thing. The Copan cartel is already waiting for it, in one of their secure houses, near the hotel." Marcus informed. He was a man of action, taking care of things immediately.

  "Excellent. I want to get back to Miami as soon as possible." Jordan insisted. He needed to see Ashley. He wanted to crawl on his knees and beg for her forgiveness, offer her heaven on earth in exchange for her pardon.

  "Of course." Marcus ripped a piece of his shirt and walked over to Jordan. "Here, let me stop that bleeding or you'll leave DNA evidence behind." He efficiently wrapped the strap of fabric over the wound on Jordan's arm, before they picked up the suitcases with the drugs and took them out to the SUV waiting outside. Soon they were heading to meet the Copan Cartel and handing them the drugs they had recovered.

  The only thing still bothering Jordan was that Jonathan had escaped, and that he wouldn’t be easy to catch. But he had faith in Jude Black. The man was a professional, he had orchestrated a clean operation, and he was sure they wouldn’t have any problems after.

  They settled the deal with the Copan cartel and went back to the hotel to wait for the others. As soon as they got to the hotel, Jordan grabbed the phone to call Ashley, but last night's conversation dissuaded him from doing so. He needed to talk to her in person.

  Jude's group returned one hour later and they left for Miami. Jude had shipped Marquez and Hernandez bodies back to Venezuela and left those of the Honduran's for the police to find. They would assume gang disputes and wouldn’t look much into it, for sure.

  The flight back to Miami seemed to last an eternity and the sting on his arm, had Jordan in a very bad mood. He wanted to get to Ashley as soon as possible.

  He was so impatient he got behind the wheel of the SUV and drove like a maniac back to Marcus house. It was a good thing the police didn’t catch him.

  He almost jumped out of the car when he finally parked in front of the main door.

  "Jordan! Calm down man." Marcus advice fell on deaf ears as he ran downstairs to find her.

  When he saw the opened door to the cell his guts told him something was wrong, really wrong. "Wilson! Wilson!" he shouted, as he ran upstairs.

  "Boss… I didn’t hear you guys arrive." Wilson appeared, coming in from the pool, wearing only swimming shorts.

  "Where is she?" Jordan asked, approaching Wilson
.

  "You mean, the slut? Ivan came by and took her with him."

  "What?! Are you insane?" Jordan jumped over Wilson and punched him in the face knocking him down to the floor.

  Marcus ran inside the house as he heard the noise. "Hey, what's going on here?"

  But Jordan was too busy leaning down and punching Wilson repeatedly. "Where did he take her? I'll kill you if he has harmed her."

  Marcus managed to pull Jordan back, with the help of one of his men, while another one helped Wilson up, his face nothing more than a swollen, bloody mass.

  "What the hell is going on here? Wilson?" Marcus shouted, imposing himself over the chaos.

  "Ivan Korsakov came by, and I thought it would be good for him to take that cunt away. He would never make the decision, she has him completely hooked up." Wilson explained, kneading his bruised chin.

  "You had no right to do what you did, you bastard." Jordan ranted, trying to jump at Wilson again, and being held back by Marcus and the other guy.

  "I only did what you said you wanted to do." Wilson protested, defending himself.

  "I was furious, not thinking straight. Damn, let me go!" he struggled, to free himself from the two men holding him.

  "She's no good, you know that."

  "SHE is innocent. SHE wasn’t escaping from me, Hernandez and Nicholas Marquez kidnapped her from me." Jordan yelled back. He rubbed his face, trying to calm down and think. "When did he take her away?"

  "This morning." Wilson's face now showed horror and disbelief. "Are you sure, boss?"

  "Garcia called Jordan. He found the taxi driver and was able to find out the truth, and that rat Nicholas admitted it before he died." Marcus explained.

  "Did he come by plane?" Jordan asked.

  "Yes, he must be back in New York."

  "Marcus, call him. Stop him. I want the plane ready to fly there." Jordan ordered, barely containing his fury. He walked over to Wilson. "And you better pray he hasn’t done anything to her, because if he did, I'll make you wish you had never been born, do you hear me?"