Repaying the Mafia’s Dept

Emelia

“I’ve been told you aren’t eating and you’re refusing to wear the clothes I got you. Tell me why that is,” he demands, staring me down.

My lungs constrict, but I will my body to function and block out the fear. If I show my fear, he’ll use that against me. He’ll use it to try and control me.

Nothing about any of this is good, and if I don’t stand up for myself, he’ll push me around until there’s nothing left of me. I can’t let that happen.

“I don’t want anything from you,” I answer, lifting my chin in defiance.

A deep rumble resonates from his chest. I swear it sounds like a growl. Like the sound a bear would make, or a ravenous wolf.

“You think that is how this is going to work?”

“Where are my things? You’ve brought me here and expected me to just be okay with this shit.”

“You think that is how this is going to work?” he asks again, with emphasis on each syllable, baring his teeth.

I’m pushing him. I know I am, but I have to say what I have to say.

“I want to make a phone call. Prisoners usually get that, don’t they?” I keep my gaze trained on him.

“The person who needs to know you’re here, knows. The next time you speak to your father will be at the fundraiser.”

I don’t know when that is, but I assume it’s before this wedding we’re supposed to have.

“I want to call my friend,” I tell him. He chuckles.

“Friend?”

“Friend.”

“You mean that boy? Is that what you call him? Friend?” His eyes narrow to slits. If I’m not mistaken, I catch a glimpse of jealousy.

It momentarily throws me for a loop. I didn’t expect that.

“Boy? So, what am I? Just a girl?”Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

He steps closer, but I stand my ground. “Don’t push me, Emelia. Don’t. You will not like it.”

Suddenly, fear weighs me down. “What would you do? Beat me?” God, what if he did? I couldn’t bear to be with someone like that. “Is that how you would treat me?”

“What is your relationship with Jacob Lanzoro?” He holds me firm. I see now the flash of anger in his eyes.

“He’s my friend,” I answer.

“Do you fuck your friends?” he asks. My mouth drops open

“No! What is the matter with you? I told you last night that I’m a…” My voice trails off as the memory of how I was with him last night comes back to me. My cheeks flush.

“People lie all the time.”

“I’m not lying.”

“You aren’t calling him or speaking to him ever again.”

“You asshole.” The words fall from my lips. “How can you be so cruel? He’s my friend. He’ll be worried about me. He’ll come looking for me.”

I know Jacob will. He’ll find out somehow what happened, and he’ll come looking.

“If that little fucker knows what’s best for him, he’ll stay the fuck away. Wouldn’t want his blood on my hands.”

“You monster!” I cry. When he tries to grab me, I slap him across his cheek so hard it leaves a mark.

He snarls and reaches to grab me again. I jump out the way and try to break away, but he catches me, lifts me up, and throws me down onto the bed. A scream tears from me when he climbs on top of me. All I can do is hit back at him.

He catches my face, and I slap him again. This time, though, because he’s so close, my nails dig into his cheek and rake over the skin, grazing the surface.

He hisses and stares back at me in disbelief as drops of blood fall onto my dress.

I can’t believe I just did that.

“You think I’m a monster, Emelia?” he growls. “Be grateful you ended up with me.”

“Fuck you,” I shoot back. “I was going to Italy. I’m an artist. I was going to live my dream, and you took it away. How dare you tell me I should be grateful, bastardo.”

I’m surprised when he laughs. “You are naive and foolish if you think that’s how your life was going to play out.” He grabs my hands and holds them up over my head, pinning me down so I can’t move. “At some point, he would have sold you. Your father would have sold you. I just got there first.”

“Liar!” I cry. He gets up in my face. “You liar. You forced him to do this to me. How dare you try to justify what you’ve done? You forced him and left him with no choice. Monster.”

“Yeah, maybe I am a monster. But I’m not a liar. At least I don’t double-cross my friends, and I’m not a thief.” He gets close to my face and presses his hand into my stomach.

I’m aware there are things I don’t know about my father, but since Massimo has only shown me cruelty, there’s no reason to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“You’re all the same,” I rasp, and I mean Dad too. I’m here because of him. No matter how desperate he was, I’ll never forgive him for doing this to me. “Evil all the same. Whatever you think my father is, you are the same.”

Of all the things I’ve said to him, that seems to grip him the most. I can see it in his eyes.

“I am nothing like your father. He’s the devil,” he growls.

“You fucking dog!” I lash back. He answers by tearing off my clothes. The dress rips right off me in one swift move. Then my bra comes off too. He tears off my panties. In seconds I’m naked beneath him. I scream and try to fight back, but he holds me down.

Massimo then flips me over onto my front, and before I can take my next breath, a heavy hand lands on the bare skin of my ass, jolting my body forward. Another scream rips from my lips, and other slap comes down hard on my ass. And another. And another.

“Stop it!” I cry. “You’re hurting me.”

In the reflection against the glass wall I notice he was gearing up to spank me again, but he stops at my cry. When his hand touches my ass again, it’s a gentle caress of his fingers running over my skin.

There’s a moment of nothingness as I stare at our hazy reflection. Me naked, pinned to the bed with my hair falling over my face, and him half naked. Too close to me.

I keep still. I keep very still, but my poor heart can’t take this. It’s beating so wild in my chest I think it might explode.

His fingers flutter over my ass, and it’s only then that I notice how much the skin burns.

In the glass I watch him bend his head, then I feel his lips pressing against the stinging patches of skin. Four kisses for the three times he spanked me.

Before I can process the shock of that, he grabs me and pulls me into his lap. Slipping one large hand behind my head, he cups it and holds me close, bringing me forward until our lips almost touch.

I’m naked, pressed up against him, with our eyes and our lips close. With no words spoken and just the sound of my heavy breathing, the tension is thick in the air. The myriad of thoughts that race through my mind twists and scatters. My lungs tighten and the air dispels, leaving me breathless the longer he stares at me with those tempestuous eyes.

The only things I’m aware of are my shaky breath, my racing heart, my skin touching his, my nipples pebbling against the hard wall of his chest. The wetness gathering deep in my core, stirring and growing only for him. Arousal.

Maybe I’ve gone crazy. The last forty-eight hours have made me crazy, because how can I feel aroused after what he just did? He ripped off my clothes and spanked me. No one has ever laid a hand on me and hurt me like that.

How the fuck can I be aroused by that?

Now, what is this?

Is he going to kiss me? Is he going to steal my first kiss away from me too? It’s so naive and child-like to think that way. Foolish.

When he leans forward and brushes his lips over mine, electricity sparks deep inside me and pulses through my body, but instinct makes me turn my head away. Instinct to protect something that seems more passionate to me than him claiming my virginity. I can’t give him my first kiss. I won’t allow him to steal it… yet.

Yet is the word I need to bear in mind because I can’t fight him. I’m weak and defenseless against his strength, and… this thing that seems to screw with me every time he touches me. This is the second time I’ve been naked in his presence, and look at the way my body responds to him.

What will happen next time?

“So pretty, so pure, so innocent. You’ve never been kissed, have you?” he breathes. I look back at him.

I try to pull away from the invasion of my space, but he latches on to my hair and holds me still.

“Answer me,” he demands.

“You just accused me of fucking my best friend. Why are you asking me about something as simple as a kiss?” I challenge. I don’t know where my strength, or courage, comes from to talk to him with such defiance.

Maybe it’s an enhanced version of fear talking, but I feel a small victory when annoyance spreads across his face. The victory is only momentary, though, because he presses his cheek to mine and gets close to my ear.

“Answer the question I asked you, Emelia. You’ve never been kissed before, have you?” His voice is crude and demanding.

When he tugs on my hair, I press my hand to his chest. The taut skin and deep ridge of muscle tighten under my palm, and he runs his fingers over my ass.

One hand on my head, the other on my ass, making sure I know I’m locked in, paralyzed against his hold on me.

“No. I have not.”

“Your kisses belong to me now. Your arousal is mine, your fantasies are mine, you are mine. Nothing is yours. You don’t fuck with me, and I won’t fuck with you either.”

And just like that, he picks me off him and sets me back down on the bed. He stands up. My gaze drops to the bulge in his pants. It’s more pronounced against the joggers than what he wore the other day.

He smiles when he sees me staring and smiles wider when he reaches for the remains of my little dress. Gives it another tear, and another. He rips it up like paper and reaches for my panties, which he pockets.

“Don’t want my clothes? Well, then you won’t wear any,” he snarls.

“You asshole. You can’t leave me in here naked.” I shuffle against the bed and straighten up.

“Watch me,” he answers, reminding me that I’m about to marry a monster.

Massimo stalks to the corner of the room where Candace left the bag of clothes and picks it up.

“If you ever want to wear clothes again, you’ll do as you’re told,” he warns.

“You’re seriously going to keep me locked up in here naked?” I can’t believe it.

“Yes, I am. When I think you’ve learned your lesson, I’ll let you know when you can wear clothes again.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He’s crazy. No one behaves this way.

“Don’t push me, Princesca. Unless you want another spanking. That was a punishment, not for pleasure.”

My cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“I hate you,” I rasp.

He gives me that disarming smile and takes a few steps closer so he can loom over me. “No, you don’t, but that’s a subject for another time.”

My lips part to tell him he’s wrong, but my voice catches when the flicker of something deep within his eyes catches and holds my attention, throwing off my thoughts.

“How do you expect me to love you if you treat me like shit!” I wail.

The wild smirk on his face is another tell that foolishness has fallen from my lips again.

“I don’t expect your love. That is not what this is about.” His gaze becomes a stony glare. In the depths of his piercing eyes I see this whole ordeal isn’t just about money. There’s more to it.

He has money. He has power. What I see when I look at him is a thirst for revenge.

Revenge against Dad.

What did my father do to him? What did Dad do that would have such a repercussion on me?

Why do I have to pay for my father’s sins?

When he turns, I see the massive dragon tattooed on his whole back. Dark and inky, filling up the space. He heads to the window, locks it with the little key, and places it in the same pocket he stored my panties. Then he leaves me. Once again naked.

Naked and thinking of how the hell I’m going to get out of here.

I need to find a way to escape.

How though?

Massimo will make sure I don’t get the chance.