Elsa
That pause is all they need to swarm around me. I try to pull free, but they won’t budge, dragging me back inside.
Marco doesn’t seem surprised. “Enjoy the fresh air?”
So many words burn my tongue. Most are creative versions of “fuck off,” but I have to be careful with this man. “What are you going to do?”
“Come. Stand here, Elsa.” He moves to the centre of the room, the rope in his hand. Looking over his shoulder, he tells his guards to bring me over. I know there was nowhere for me to go, but I drop back a step.
It does no good. The guards have a firm grip on me and they tug me over to Marco. “Hold her hands behind her back,” Marco orders.
“No, please.” I hate myself for begging, but I don’t want this. My heart pounds, my mind scared out of my wits. Why does he need rope? Is he going to rape me? Torture me? Oh, God. I can’t breathe.
When the rope is around my wrists, pull tight, Marco continues winding the rope around my torso. His fingers brush the underside of my breasts as he works, and I try not to react as revulsion rips through me. Did he just cop a feel, the fucking perv?
The slight curve to his lips tells me he has. God, how gross.
He’s going to kill you. Stop worrying about whether he touched your boobs or not.
Right. There are far bigger problems at the moment.
When he has me trussed up to his liking, he pushes on my shoulder and forces me to my knees. That put my face at his crotch level, and fear claws in my chest. Is he going to shove his dick in my mouth? I wobble and certainly would’ve toppled over if not for Marco’s hand on my head to steady me. He orders Alessia to get his phone, then holds out his hand to one of the guards and a gun is placed in his palm.
Oh, Jesus. He finally realized I was of no use to him. “Marco, no. Please, don’t do this.”
“Open your mouth, puttanella.”
A tear slides down my cheek, my lungs incapable of pulling in air. I am going to die. I am going to die before I live the life papà had wished for me before he died. I should have started working immediately after Marcello had let me go. How is this fair? “Please, Marco.”
He opens my jaw using his powerful fingers and shoves the barrel of the gun inside my mouth. The cold metal smooths over my tongue and rattles against my teeth. It tastes like death.
I tremble, tears running silently down my cheeks. I can’t believe this is happening. Fuck Marcello for dumping me at the time when I needed him the most. Fuck his empty but believable promises of protecting me. I am definitely coming back as a ghost to haunt his ass for the rest of his life.
My mind goes blank after that. I can only stare up at Marco, the harsh edges of the gun tearing at the soft skin of my mouth. I don’t think I am even breathing.
“So beautiful and so proud,” Marco murmurs as he drags a fingertip along my jaw, caressing me. “How could any man resist you?” Then he tells Alessia to take photos with his phone.
I kneel in a grotesque display of cruelty, my body vibrating in terror as I wait for Marco to pull the trigger. No doubt it will be soon, my gruesome death captured for his enjoyment. Will he share the photos with other members of the other members of the Sicilian Mafia? He would be fucked up if he tried because my family is part of it. Does he know who I am? Does he know Roberto De Luca? My father never exposed me to the mafia society. He kept me away from it and only introduced me to people he thought I should know. No doubt Marco only thinks of me as Marcello’s bitch. A golddigger like his Mistress.
“Basta,” he tells his mistress, then slowly withdraws the gun from my mouth. He uses his thumb to wipe the tears from my face while I try not to hyperventilate. “You on your knees, so obedient. Did he like this, as well? I bet he did. This is why you are the perfect distraction.”
Distraction? Something about his tone causes my skin to prickle. Danger cloaks the room, so thick I can smell it. Will he take me against my will now?
The moment is broken when Alessia throws her arm over his shoulder and hands his phone back. “Baby, her hands,” she says
I am quickly untied and left there, kneeling on the floor. What is happening? Relief floods me as Marco begins texting on his phone, ignoring me, and the guards wander away. Sagging, I catch my breath and try not to think about how close I have come to dying.
Alessia slips a hand under my elbow and helps me to my feet. “He’s very attracted to you,” she says quietly. “If you want to join us, you are welcome. And, it might make Marcello jealous.”
Inspiring jealousy in a man I hate seems like a terrible reason to have a threesome. “Hard pass,” I say. “But this is why you should help me. Please. I need to get out of here.”
She gives one small shake of her head. “He will kill me if I help you escape.”
“It’s not safe for either of us here. Come with me. We can help each other.”
Alessia’s eyes were flat and resigned when they met mine. “There is no escape from these men. They have influence all over the world. Even at the end of the world, you will be captured by their loyal soldiers. Even the police are on their payroll.”