Russo Saga Collection

by Nicolina Martin

  “Carmen.”

  The matron’s voice makes me freeze on the first step. I’m on my way up to my room to shower after a customer. Spinning on my heels, I face her.

  “Yeah?”

  Her face is serious. “I’ve told him, Carmen. I’ll shut this whole operation down, and I don’t care what he does to me, but I won’t accept that he hurts you that badly again.”

  Icy fingers grip around my heart and my mind spins. “What are you saying?”

  “He has demanded you again.”

  My legs give out and I fall down on the steps, hugging my knees as panic rises in my chest like a flood of thick dark mud, threatening to drown me.

  “It’s been four months! Why? Why now? Why me?”

  She crouches before me and takes my hand. “It will be okay.”

  I hug myself harder and rock back and forth as tears well up in my eyes. “I can’t,” I whisper. “I can’t go there again. He’ll kill me.”

  Matron has never been seen hugging anyone during the six months I’ve lived here. Never. But now she lays her arms around me and pulls me into her embrace.

  “He won’t. I promise you.”

  I pull my being deeper into that other place inside, trying to distance myself from what I must do.

  “When?” I ask. My voice is so desolate, so broken, even I flinch hearing it. Then it strikes me. “Oh my God! Lucas! It’ll kill him!”

  “That’s good news at least. Someone else is picking you up.”

  I sag with relief. “Please, never mention I went there. I don’t know what he’ll do if I come back in the… in the same state as before.”

  “It’s tonight, and you have my word, dear. I won’t tell him.”

  “I need to go get ready,” I say, my voice lacking all life.

  It turns out Ivan is tonight’s driver. He paces the front yard, a cigarette in his hand. The night is lukewarm and the air heady with flowery scents.

  “Miss Moreno.” He tosses the butt and crushes it under his sole, then he holds open the back door for me. This is a normal car, a Mercedes. Leather seats and a luxurious feel to it, but no limo. I’m happy for the new set-up. It’s different. Maybe more will be different?

  Ivan doesn’t say a word to me during the whole ride, but it’s okay. I’m really not in a talking mood. It feels as if I’m in a bubble, every noise distorted, the colors faded. This is the third time I’m forced to go here. It will be the last. If he ever demands me again, I’ll kill myself. This is a fact. It doesn’t even make me sad, thinking it. I can’t keep living like this.

  The house is quiet. The office is empty. Ivan motions for me to follow, and on wobbly legs I trail behind him through room after room. From far off in the wing we’re walking through comes voices and music. The sound increases with every step. I swallow hard and stop. The bar. Images of me lying on that counter, cum showering me from all directions flashes through my mind.

  “Miss Moreno?”

  “I can’t,” I whisper and stare pleadingly at the tall Russian. Please take me away!

  “Walk, or I’ll carry you.”

  I can’t move, it’s as if my feet are frozen to the floor. Ivan sighs and hoists me up over his shoulder. All hope leaves me in that moment, raw despair claiming every corner of my soul.

  The chatter grows quiet as we enter the room. I can’t see what’s happening and all they see of me is a good portion of my panty-less butt, my short dress having been pushed up as he carried me. The room spins as he sets me down, steadying me by my elbow when I sway. I glance around me and find that I’m standing by one of the leather couches at the center of the room. Next to me are a pair of suit-clad thighs, ending in well-polished black shoes. My heart rate skyrockets when I realize whose legs those are.

  Chapter 18

  Carmen

  A hand circles my wrist in a vice grip.

  “Carmen,” says his smooth voice, treacherously sweet. “Come sit on my lap, dear.” He grips my hips and pulls me to him, my back to his chest, and drags me down so I straddle his lap, my pussy on clear display for everyone to see.

  I still haven’t looked at him. The room is blurry, I can’t focus on any of the faces of the men around us. He pulls me close, embracing me, his body heat scorching my back. My heart is in my throat, pounding so hard I can barely breathe. Wrapped in the scent of his rich cologne, of cinnamon, and something earthy, I sit stiff, dizzy with fear.

  “I was told,” he whispers in my ear, making me flinch, “I have been too rough. So I thought we’d play a different game tonight, young Carmen.”

  He cups my breast with one hand, squeezing it, as his other hand strokes down along my stomach, past the hem of my dress, down to cup my pussy. I try to clench my legs together, but he parts his thighs, spreading me even wider.

  “Mmm,” he growls. “So soft.” His fingers move expertly along my slit, making me squirm. I don’t care if he’s being careful. I loathe his whole existence. My spine crawls from his closeness and I almost wish he’d hit me instead.

  A man joins us, sitting on the opposite couch, his eyes keep darting to my nakedness and to Salvatore’s fingers that thrust in me. The situation gets absurd as they begin to talk business as if I’m not even there. A man I remember from last time, the lanky blond, Eric, joins us as well, giving me a once-over, a flash of interest in his eyes before he turns to business too.

  That’s when I see him. At the far end of the bar, clutching a beer, looking like he’ll shatter it in his hand. His blue eyes dark and tormented.

  Oh my God.

  Now I know why Lucas didn’t pick me up. Now I know Salvatore’s game for the night.

  I shake my head, holding Lucas’ gaze, pleading with him to stay calm. I told him, over and over, that as long as he’s with Salvatore he’ll never be in control.

  The devil must have noticed our interaction, because his thrusting picks up pace, gets cruel. He pulls down the front of my dress and frees one of my heavy breasts. He pinches my nipple, and I don’t know why I’m so sensitive all of a sudden, but it makes me scream out.

  Lucas stirs and I mouth a ‘no’ at him. He’ll get killed if he acts. Finally, he turns from me, his body stiff, rage oozing off him in heated waves that makes my heart ache. Salvatore elicits a lot more whimpers of pain from me that night as he holds one business meeting after the other. His cock grows hard against my ass as my pain turns the sick monster on. I wonder if he’ll fuck me in front of Lucas too. I wouldn’t be surprised. My chest fills with lead, heavy and cold. I’m not sure I can face Lucas again after tonight. I feel filthy like never before.

  When he suddenly stands, and I almost fall off his lap, I don’t know whether to be relieved, or scared.

  “Gentlemen, youngsters,” Lucas’ head whips around and his eyes dart between me and the asshole holding my upper arm in a vice-like grip, “it’s time for me to retire for the night. As always, feel free to stay as long as you like. Drinks are on the house.”

  Lucas stares at us in horror as Salvatore moves, pulling me with him with a bruisingly rough grip. Then I lose sight of him, as we exit the room. My heart sinks. I’m alone with the monster again.

  “You haven’t said a word the whole night, Miss Moreno. Are you shy all of a sudden?”

  I stumble next to him, never getting a chance to get my bearings. “What’s there to say?”

  “So bitter?”

  I scoff.

  “Now there’s my snarky little girl.”

  “I’m not your girl,” I sneer.

  He stops abruptly and pushes me up against a wall, his hand gripping my chin. “Are you Payne’s girl then? Hmm? You’re mine, sweetheart. He’s mine. I own every little part of you, your mind, your soul, your body. Fuck him again and I’ll make him go away.”

  It feels as if all the blood drains from my face. “Please,” I gasp. “I won’t see him again. I promise.”

  I give up then. I don’t care anymore. There’s no life for me left to live.

  He
smirks as he sees my defeat, then he grabs my arm again and shoves me in front of him. “Get in there, get naked. Get yourself fucking wet because dry-fucking you is getting old.”

  I stumble into his bedroom. It’s only lit by a little light in the window. It’s dead quiet. The door falls closed behind me, and I’m yet again alone with the man who holds my whole life in his hand.

  Spinning around, I face him. His eyes glint in the semi-darkness. I grab my dress and pull it over my head, tossing it on the floor in front of his feet.

  “I will never get wet with you! I don’t get off on pain and humiliation. You don’t turn me on in the least! You disgu—”

  He slaps me hard. My head rocks to the side and I taste blood. “Fuck you,” I sneer as I cup my burning cheek.

  Salvatore grabs my waist and throws me on the bed. “Dry-fucking it is then,” he growls. He grips my arm and twists me around so I lie on my belly, holding my arm pushed so high up on my back I cry out. I hear him undress. Spit lands between my ass cheeks, then he puts his cock against my tight rear hole and pushes in, ruthlessly, uncaring that I scream, the agony almost making me black out. But only almost. I wish I’d faint. Or die.

  I don’t know how long he rapes me anally. Because I’ve learned now. That’s what it is. I might be a working girl, but we can be raped too.

  Suddenly, he pulls out and long, hot spurts of his cum covers my back. My ass burns beyond belief. I’ve drenched the sheet with tears, snot and saliva. I have nothing left. No energy. No will to defend myself. No sense of self. Nothing. A part of me wishes he would kill me.

  He falls on his back next to me, I don’t move. I stare at the dimly lit, luxurious room. I see it, but at the same time it doesn’t register. Salvatore breathes heavily next to me. The mattress rocks when he stands and disappears into the adjacent bathroom. Toilet flushes, the shower runs, then he comes back with a towel wrapped around his waist, his skin glistening with drops of water. Throwing me a towel, he then sits on the bed next to me. I don’t move.

  “You should dry up.”

  I still don’t move.

  He sighs and grabs the towel, wiping off my back in a few rough strokes before he shoves it between my legs.

  “Why do you keep hurting me, Mr. Salvatore?” I ask dully, staring at nothing, still unmoving.

  He’s silent, then the mattress sinks on his side as he lies down. He sighs. “Other’s pain turns me on. It’s how I get off.”

  “That’s sick.”

  “I’ve never claimed to be anything else.”

  “Do you know what I am?”

  “A whore.”

  “A girl. I’m an eighteen-year-old girl that you keep torturing. Do you even know what you do to me?”

  “I give you a shitload of cash to shut up and take it.”

  “Money can’t buy you free from what you’re doing.”

  “You got really mouthy all of a sudden.”

  I turn my head, resting my other cheek on the damp spot on the sheet, meeting his gaze. “I don’t care anymore. You take everything. You’ve taken everything from me.”

  “The boy?”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my hands into fists. My heart aches worse than my ass ever could. How do I face Lucas after tonight? Maybe he won’t want me anyway? That would solve a lot of things.

  “You’re nothing but meat, Carmen, the two of you, all my men, all the people out there. A life, ten lives, a hundred, means nothing. People cling onto it, so fucking hard, but in the end we all die. If you’d just accept that, your life would be so much easier.”

  “You must have had a really fucked up childhood,” I sneer.

  Salvatore laughs.

  “Oh, it was. It was fucked up beyond anything you can imagine. No one respected me, you see. Society just threw us in a dumpster, my sister and I, like garbage. Our parents worked themselves to an early death and we were left to our own devices. I was always hungry, dirty, always cold. I learned to steal. To fight. To be selfish. To hate. I swore I’d never be disrespected again in my life.

  “So you walk all over everybody else instead.”

  “If that’s what it takes.”

  “Don’t you have one ounce of humanity in there at all?”

  “I haven’t cared to look in many years.”

  “I guess that’s what it takes to be able to do what you do.”

  “What is it I do?”

  “Pain. Murder. Deceit. I could specify, but I think that’s pointless.”

  “How do you know so much, little Carmen?”

  “I have eyes and ears.”

  “Those can be dangerous things to have.”

  “Or good. Are you threatening me?”

  “What have you heard?”

  “Enough.”

  “Enough for what?”

  “To put you away for life.”

  “And this you tell me, just like that? Aren’t you afraid?”

  “I’ve been afraid for a very long time, Mr. Salvatore. Maybe I’m hoping you’ll just put an end to it.”

  “I could tie you up instead and never let you leave.”

  “Would you?”

  “I know I won’t have to. I know you won’t talk. Am I right?”

  “But would you? If you were unsure?”

  “I would. Until I grew tired.”

  “Then what?”

  “What do you think?”

  “You’d kill me?”

  “I’d let my men have their way with you at every single party I ever throw until you’re ugly and useless, until not even the most desperate will touch you. Then I’d kill you, yeah.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Without a second thought.”

  “You’re even more of a monster than I thought. Didn’t your mom teach you any manners at all? Not even a slice of compassion?”

  “Young Carmen, I don’t know where you come from or what made you end up in this life. Maybe you were bored and wanted to see the world and got in with the wrong crowd. Maybe your parents threw you out. Maybe you were an orphan, raped by strangers your whole childhood. I don’t know, and I don’t care. My upbringing, however, was forged by myself. I barely remember my parents. My sister raised me, and she’s almost worse than I am.”

  “She also beats and rapes prostitutes?”

  “You think all is about you?”

  “To me quite a lot is about me. I know you don’t see me as a person whatsoever. You’ve made that very clear—”

  “Good.”

  “—but I am. I hurt. I bleed. I dream. Just like you.”

  “A philosopher whore.”

  “I know, I take the prize, don’t I?”

  He lets out a short laugh. “Why have I not crushed you? I’ve put you through more than anyone should be able to handle. I thought you’d be a blabbering zombie by now, that I’d have Ivan scrape you up off the floor and dump you on Elena to try to put back together. I’ve brought you to the brink of death and back.”

  “Did you intend to kill me?”

  “Nah. I’m not into snuff. I like it when they feel the pain. When you die, it’s over. Where’s the fun in that?”

  “You’re sick.”

  “Oh, I know.”

  “Are you going to keep calling for me until you really do break me?”

  “You’re different. You have brains. I like that. I’ll take you again. But no, I don’t want to break you. I’ll keep you balancing right on the edge of that abyss, though, with pain, restraint, humiliation, asphyxiation. Even though you might know I don’t want you dead, your body won’t know the difference.”

  “Please… don’t. I’ll come here as much as you like. Hurt me. Choke me. I know what you like. Just… please don’t… not all those men, Luciano.”

  He studies me for a long time. His eyes as black as his soul. “So that’s how I break you?”

  I recoil, my stomach clenching. Did I just give him the key to how he can disintegrate my mind? How he can make me die on the insid
e and still seem alive?

  Meeting his gaze, I don’t answer.

  A smirk spreads on his lips, and what goes on in that wicked mind of his, I don’t want to know.

  I should have taken Lucas up on his offer all those weeks ago. Now it’s too late.

  Chapter 19

  Carmen

  Ivan drives me back. Rinse, repeat. Matron sits on the couch in the common room, wrapped in a checkered throw blanket. The house is silent, the room cozy, decorated in warm colors, dimly lit. It almost feels like home by now, but it’s a home that has begun to build too many bad memories. When she sees me, she darts up, her eyes flying over my body as if she’s inspecting me.

  “How are you?”

  I limp toward the stairs, the pain in my ass making it hard to walk when my ass cheeks rub against each other. “He didn’t beat me at least,” I mutter, and make my way up to my room.

  “Do you need help? Painkillers?” she half-shouts after me.

  I shake my head and continue. No. I don’t want painkillers. I need the pain to keep me rooted. I need to stay in the now. I don’t want to dull.

  In the shower I let the tears fall. They are not for me, they’re for the pain I saw in Lucas’ eyes, the pain my existence is the cause of. If we’d never met, he wouldn’t have been in the position he’s in right now. What are a few weeks of happiness to a lifetime of sorrows?

  Sleep won’t come. Salvatore’s threats play on repeat in my mind and my stomach is in knots. After a couple of hours, I pull on soft pants and a top, and make my way down to the kitchen where I find early bird Gabriela making sandwiches, dressed in a thick purple robe and black dragon-shaped slippers. She’s a short, curvy girl with a cute button nose, and long almost platinum blonde hair. I’ve always envied her that smooth, sleek hair. My own is coarse and dry. I struggle with loads of conditioner every day, trying to tame my locks from Hell.