CELINA
I heard steps in the passage, so I waited for the bedroom door to open, but it didn’t. I wanted to yell out and demand to be set free, maybe even throw my name behind it for some extra weight. But that was way too risky so I kept quiet.
I only heard his movement when he was in the passage; I guessed the room was isolated from the rest of the apartment. I looked over to the window to plan an escape route but saw only a wall of bricks on the other side of it. The only way out was to earn his trust. He wasn’t awful to look at; in fact, he was seriously hot, so being a little less hard-assed wouldn’t make me too nauseous.
I waited patiently for him to open the door, but he never did. It was quiet again, and I wondered if he left. I hoped he wouldn’t be gone too long. The coffee and water I had earlier were threatening to destroy my dry, clean sweatpants. Chinese water torture came to mind—the drip threat was real.
There wasn’t much to do chained to the bed like a dog, so I was alone with my thoughts and fears, unfortunately. I imagined Stella typing away furiously, stopping every so often for a bite of her donut. I wondered if they were plain or rainbow-colored sprinkles. She was probably too distracted to notice that I wasn’t there. My mother wasn’t expecting me to call, and my father had a busy week ahead. Like a shipwrecked sailor, I was all alone on my island, with an occasional visit from a menacing tribesman.
My new abode was a ten inch by twelve inch bedroom, with a queen size bed, two light gray nightstands with white shades, white built-in cupboards, a white chaise lounge, and a shaggy dark gray scatter carpet. The floor was a beautiful maple wood finish, and white blinds added to the classy feel. It was definitely not a man’s hand that decorated the room. I suspected that either he bought the place furnished, or he called in the services of an interior decorator.
I thought of Viola, as I looked around the room. She would break out in a rash if she was chained up in this room. The lack of bright colors was enough to send her off a cliff. When she’d moved into her apartment, she called her father and asked him who the old fart was who’d decorated the place. She immediately called in her glam squad and ordered that her digs be transformed into a Cuban wonderland. No expense was spared. From the paint colors to the art on the walls to the crockery and cutlery, stepping into Viola’s world was a bright and busy affair.
I wondered if she was looking for me. Calling all our friends to find out if anyone had heard from me. We were like Thelma and Louise—where the one went, the other was soon to follow. I could only hope that she’d put up a stink and get the gang to look for me. I could always count on her to bail me out of a sticky situation, and this one definitely qualified as sticky. It was downright syrupy.
The urine came “a-knockin” again, so it was time to make a plan. The water jug on the nightstand was my only option. I remembered all too well helping my ailing grandmother with her bedpan, so this would be easy. As soon as I got over my mortified self, I used my free hand to liberate myself from the stinging pain in my bladder. Maybe I’d toss the contents of the jug at my captor—I knew it would probably be the last nail in my coffin, but it sure would put a smile on my face.
The deli sandwich went down like a Zeppelin, so my hunger pangs were gone. All that was left to do was wait, and wait, and wait. I wasn’t the most patient of people as a rule, and I never sat still for very long. My mother told me she took me to the doctor when I was a toddler because I was all over the place like a spray gun. He told her that I was burning up my cholesterol, and not to worry too much, I’d grow out of it. He’s dead now—I wouldn’t be surprised if my mother whacked him.
It was becoming progressively difficult to keep still. It was only a matter of time before I flew off the handle and gnawed myself free. I was supple—I would get it done. But then what? The door was locked, and I had no idea what was waiting for me on the other side. I’d have to get a grip or lose my shit. The latter was unwise. So, there I lay, waiting for the tribesman to appear.
***
GIANI
I tried to keep myself occupied while at home—I was avoiding the spare room like the plague. For the first time in my career, I had no idea what to do. She was the daughter of an infamous Mafia Don. They were ruthless—not anything like the Coli Family. I understood, now, why she was such a tough cookie. It was in the Pisano blood by the looks of it. I couldn’t avoid the situation forever, but I put it to the back of the shelf, determined to give Dominick’s protection first.
I collected the envelope from my safe, did one last study of the info inside, and closed the apartment door behind me as I made for my SUV. It was showtime. No time for distractions, Giani. You’ve got bigger fish to fry.
Dominick was meeting with the Jilani Bosses. It was an important one; the merger of their Sicilian interests had been on the cards for a very long time. The other mafia families weren’t exactly thrilled about the idea—the Coli and Jilani merger would make them the strongest mob entity in the world. I took care of Pisano’s hitman, but for all I knew, there could be a hundred more of him waiting in the wings to take care of the problem.
I needed all eyes on this one so I called Vinny.
“Hey, G. What’s up?”
“I need you, Vin. Today’s an important day, and I can’t afford any screw-ups.”
“Where do I meet you?”
“I’ll swing by your place in twenty and pick you up.”
“Done.”
I was a little shaken at the prospect of killing the Pisano woman. What else could I do? She would sure as shit run straight to her daddy, and I’d be swimming with the fishes before the day was out. I didn’t kill for the sake of it. Every kill I’d ever done was for a specific purpose—protecting the Coli family. This one was on me. I fucked up and I had to fix it. I couldn’t tell anyone.
Vinny was in his office when I arrived. He had his “serious” face on. He had a face of steely determination when it came to his work. He was a joker and a scream most of the time, but the “working” Vinny was a force to be reckoned with. Only the insane or those with a death wish would fuck with Vin.
He climbed into the car. “Right, where are we going?”
“Hey, Vin. Thanks for this. I know it was short notice.”
“No problem, G. You know you can always count on me.”
I ran through the details of the meeting, times, locations, what to look out for. He and I had worked together enough times to know the one had the other’s back. For a big man, Vinny moved like a Ninja. He’d be on the one side of the room, and before you could blink twice, the perp would be on the ground choking on the dust from Vinny’s boot.
It was the nature of the beast when it came to comparing cocks. The medium-sized guys would gang up together and try and take down the biggest, toughest man in the room. After a few widespread rumors, that hadn’t happened to Vinny in a long time. As soon as the upstarts heard it was Vinny they were fucking with, the game didn’t seem fun anymore.
We drove to the meeting place and parked in an inconspicuous spot. I wasn’t worried about Dominick when he left the house with his bodyguards; it was the transition from car to building that concerned me. Vinny and I did a quick sweep of the area to make sure there weren’t any nasty surprises lurking in the shadows. We checked for hidden explosives and surrounding buildings where a sniper would have a clear shot. When we were satisfied that we’d covered our asses thoroughly, we chose a vantage point and waited for the bosses to arrive.
“You seem a little distracted, G. What’s going on?”
Damn, was this guy psychic, or was I a lousy poker player?
“I’m fine. Got a few things on my mind is all.”
“Tell you what. When you’re ready to offload, you know where to find me.
“I know. Time to stop nattering like a bunch of old ladies and focus.” I was thankful that he dropped the subject. I had no idea what I was going to do, and even less idea of how to explain it. The meeting went off without a hitch. It looked lik
e an epic of Men in Black with all the muscle from both parties—a deterrent for any hitman. I did my bit the night before. And then some.
GIANI
It was late by the time I dropped off Vinny. He wanted to stop off and have a drink, but I had to deal with Miss Pisano. So, I politely declined.
The apartment was dark by the time I got home. There were no noises from the bedroom in which the Pisano woman was locked. My stomach was in a knot. I knew what I had to do, but it wouldn’t be easy. I took my revolver from its holster and put a bullet in the chamber. The silencer was still on. A gunshot would draw more attention than I needed. As it is, the woman wouldn’t go down without a fight. Just get it done, Giani. When did you become such a pussy?
I took a swig of whiskey and started the long walk down the passage. It was quiet behind the door. I hesitated for a few moments, and then, I unlocked the door. She was lying in the dark, the light from the full moon outside bouncing off the wall in front of the window. I saw her looking at me; she had no smart comments. When she saw the glint of moonlight on the gun, she stared first at the weapon, then at me. I couldn’t delay it any longer.
I walked steadily and purposefully over to her, grabbed her by the hair, and put the gun to her head. She said nothing, clearly in shock. There was no manual to prepare you for a silencer against the temple, and even if there was, it wouldn’t do dick to comfort you. Then, I did something really stupid—I looked into her frightened eyes, filled with tears and fear. You have to kill her. It’s the Pisano woman or you! Let her live, and you sign your death warrant.
“Please,” she whispered.
That one pleading word threw me for a loop. No matter how hard I willed myself to pull the trigger, I couldn’t move my finger.
“I know who you are.” My words struck her in the face and she flinched.
“You don’t have to kill me. I don’t even know who you are. I couldn’t tell, even if I wanted to, and I don’t know where I am. Let me go, please. I won’t be any more trouble.”
She moved her free hand very slowly up to my face, cupped my cheek, and stared into my eyes. Without looking away, she moved her hand down my chest to my stomach. I didn’t stop her; rather, I moved closer to her face. My head was spinning, my stomach in a knot. She kissed me gently, as she put her hand around the back of my head and pulled me in deeper. Her mouth was warm and sweet—her lips perfect. Her tongue danced in and out of my mouth. I could feel my erection pushing to break free from my pants. This was the most exotic kiss of my life.
As if she knew what I was feeling, she moved her hand to my crotch. She unzipped my pants and squeezed her hand into the slit to touch my hard cock. I pinned her against the headboard as she moved her fingers up and down my shaft. I was throbbing with anticipation and hunger for her. I reached down to cup her between her legs. She opened them to accommodate me as I slipped my fingers inside her wet pussy. She moaned as I caressed her clit; I was wet and desperate to come.
What the fuck are you doing? Get away from her, now! This can go nowhere. She’s not a quick fuck and then off he trots. You have to kill her.
I opened my eyes and pulled away from her, suddenly. She gasped as I stood back from her, my cock standing proud. Without a word spoken between us, I left the room and slammed the door behind me. As a final act of denying, I turned the key in the lock. My raging hardon had no intention of yielding to my will. Testosterone and the promise of an orgasm would not yield to common sense. I went to my room, undressed, and finished what she had started in a warm shower. When release came, I shuddered uncontrollably. I was in serious fucking trouble. I didn’t care if she starved to death, there was no way in hell I would go back into that room again before morning. Maybe daylight would knock some sense into me.
***
CELINA
I was utterly humiliated. Firstly because I begged for my life like a weakling, and secondly because I allowed myself to be nothing more than his whore. Who was I? Where was the tough Celina from the past year? The one who vowed never to let a man control her again, no matter what. At least I was still alive, but at what cost? I was furious with myself.
I lay in bed after he left so abruptly, wondering what else I could have done to keep him from killing me. I was close to orgasm when he left; his abandonment left me aching. Clearly, he was disgusted at the way I threw myself at him. I only had myself to blame for that. His touch sent shivers of pleasure through me; his fingers were surprisingly gentle. I was hot and bothered when he stopped. My panties were sleek and wet.
I couldn’t even go to the bathroom to compose myself. This was the last thing I needed. He’d kill me for sure after such a pathetic attempt at seduction. Surely I was smarter than that! I curled into a fetal position and cried myself to sleep.
***
GIANI
I couldn’t sleep. My mind kept wandering back to the woman in my spare room. It would have been better had I just shot her on the spot. This broad was nothing but trouble. After tossing and turning for an hour, I got dressed and left my apartment. My mind was working overtime—staying in bed was pointless. I drove to a nightclub downtown. I had to get my mind off the Pisano woman, if that was even possible.
The nightclub was buzzing. It was twelve-thirty, and the dancefloor was heaving with partygoers enjoying their youth and freedom. The twenty-somethings were just a few years younger than I, but it felt like I had lived three lifetimes more than they had. I sat at the bar and ordered myself a drink. One of the barmen put a shot glass in front of me and informed me that it was tequila night. He poured the golden liquid from a bottle with a cactus on the label and moved on to get the whiskey. I downed the liquid in one shot and waited for my whiskey. A tall blonde with huge tits and a skirt so short I could see her ass cheeks sided up to me. She reeked of cheap perfume and desperation.
“Hi, big boy. My name’s Candy. I haven’t seen you here before.”
“Hi.”
“Buy me a drink, and I’ll show you around.” She batted her eyes at me and shoved her exposed cleavage by bending down low. She was the kind of woman I’d ordinarily avoid like a root canal, but tonight I was on edge. And I had an itch to scratch. She made it very clear that she was interested. She was pretty and definitely doable, so I played along.
After a few drinks and a lot of grinding against me, she took my hand and led me to one of the bathrooms. She walked me straight in and took me to a stall. A few women watched as we passed by them, but none of them seemed terribly interested in what we were doing. They were focused on the white lines on the mirrors of the ledge of the basin.
Candy dropped to her knees, unzipped me, and freed my cock. She took out her tits for me to caress as she gave me the blowjob of the century. As I came, I thought of the Pisano woman. I imagined burying my shaft deep inside of her wet pussy—the thought made me come hard. The blonde looked pleased with her performance. She opened her legs and put my fingers inside of her, moving up and down until she was quivering. She came like a freight train, and just as noisy too.
My sack was empty and my eyes were heavy; time to go home and sleep. I’d worry about my fuckup in the morning.
CELINA
Morning came, and I still felt like shit. I was hungry and the jug on the nightstand next to me was full. If my captor didn’t relieve me soon he’d lose his warranty on the brand new mattress. I heard stirrings in the passage and held my breath. The key turned in the lock.
“I’ll untie you so you can go to the bathroom. Here’s a set of clean clothes.”
He didn’t say much, and I decided to do the same. He cut the zip ties off my left hand and my ankles; my legs were stiff from being tied to the bed for a whole day. I must have smelled delightful, too, after a few mishaps with the jug—it wasn’t an exact science. Not that I was too stressed about it; better he stay away from me out of disgust than touch me again and make me forget how much I loathe the bastard.
“Thanks.”
He sat in the chaise lounge whi
le I went into the bathroom and waited for him to leave. When he didn’t, I was annoyed.
“I can’t do this with you sitting out there, listening.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you can or can’t do. I’m not going anywhere so get used to it. Or would you prefer it if I tied you back up so you can sit in your own stink for a few more hours?”
Mean fucker. Just play it cool, Celina. He wouldn’t be the first asshole to see you naked.
I turned then shower on full blast and took off the sweats. The woman who they’d belonged to was a giant. I had to turn up the legs and fold over the sleeves, to look like a grown-up instead of a newborn in a onesie. I was pissed off enough not to give a damn what the brute did or didn’t see, so I stripped naked and climbed into the shower. The chaise lounge was across from the open bathroom door, but I didn’t look to see if he was watching me. Let him see what he missed out on, I thought. A stupid thought, I realized, but I didn’t give a rat’s furry ass.
After a warm, soapy shower, and a hair washing, I felt like a new woman. I wrapped myself in a towel, then towel dried my hair. I brushed my teeth, cause that’s what civilized people did, and walked to the bed where the clean clothes were. Without looking at him, I dropped the towel, put on my panties and the bra he left for me, then slipped into the sweatpants and clean top. I wondered if his lady friend was a fitness freak—it would explain the sweat clothes, my pet hate. I was couture class, not gym Barbie. But I was glad to be out of the dirty garments, so I kept my bitching to myself.
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” His sudden question took me by surprise.
“Would it have made a difference?” I zipped up the top before I turned to face him.
“That was for me to decide.”
“Yes, I saw your reaction to the news very clearly last night when you pressed a silencer to my head. What was your great plan, Mr. Assassin? Kill the Pisano bitch and move on with your life?” Careful, Celina.
Ruthless Captor: A Mafia Romance (Corrupt Minds Book 3) Page 5