Page 38 of Capo
With my heart in my throat, I shuffle off the bed, quickly shimmy out of my thong, take a few steps and then stop, my toes panically clutching the soft, luxurious carpet. A low growl and a shuffle of feet from behind me make me freeze. I jerk hard when I feel a caress along my spine, from right above my ass, his finger dragging along my back. It’s soft and not unpleasant. He pushes my hair aside and continues up to my nape. His hands grip my shoulders and, pressing his body against mine from behind, he leans in and puts his mouth to my ear. I want to shrink away, but I force myself to remain still.
“Your submission makes me so fucking hard. Please me, and you’ll forget you ever had another life. You won’t want to leave. I may be a cruel master, but I can give pleasure too.”
My breathing quickens. I don’t want his pleasure. The thought makes me nauseous.
His hands leave my shoulder and he comes around to stand before me. I look up at him, meeting his dark gaze. There’s an unfathomable hunger in it as he takes me in, his eyes traveling my body. He puts his hand to my breast, brushing his thumb over my nipple until it turns hard. I don’t want it, but to my utter disgust, my body responds.
“You’ve healed,” he mutters. “I want you stronger.”
With that he turns and leaves, leaving me gasping with shock, and fear, and cursing my traitorous nipple. Images of my brothers flicker through my mind. Did he somehow get them out of prison? How the fuck did he manage that?
I can do anything.
I shudder and dart back to the bed. Pulling on the shirt, I then curl up and allow the tears to come.
Luciano
Much, much better. I don’t actually have her brothers yet, but it will happen soon, and she’ll never be the wiser.
I lengthen my stride as I move through the halls, leaving my private wing behind me, making sure to lock it up. These days it’s more off limits than ever before.
Images of her flash before my eyes. Images from before she ended up in my claws, images of her beaten and bruised body, and of how she looks now: mouthwateringly edible, with her long, blonde unruly hair, and her too-thin frame.
She looks like an angel, a haunted, desperate angel.
I’m not gonna fuck her, even though my balls ache to spend myself in her cunt. I’ll get my releases with the whores.
I won’t fuck her until she begs me, not until she fully gives in. I will however drive her to the brink of her sanity.
I’m having too much fun with the thoughts of how I’ll tie her up and hurt her and pleasure her until she can’t tell one from the other. The whores are all here for one thing, and they have already submitted the moment I call for them. Chloe hasn’t submitted, her soul still fights me, and I’ll let her hold onto that for as long as I can because this will be a hell of a lot more fun than any of Elena’s girls ever are.
Except the one, about a decade ago. Carmen Moreno.
It’s dinner time and the sound of conversation, interrupted by the occasional booming laugh, is getting louder the closer I get. Pushing open both glass doors to the dining room with a bang, I make everyone go quiet. Narrowing my eyes, I take in tonight’s guests. Lots of random business associates and subordinates. There is Ivan of course, as always. Eric Reed and his Anna Raymond. None of my actual family is here tonight, they’re scattered all over the continent. I suddenly miss them. For a moment a dark gust of abandonment flies through my soul, the life-long feeling of not belonging anywhere, then I shake it off.
I pass the table along a row of women and men, shaking hands, acknowledging my guests by name, one by one.
Anna gets a light kiss on the cheek and a slight flush creeps up her neck. She’s still so adorably shy around me. She was on my hit list once, after spilling everything she knew to the cops. We sorted that, but I’ve never quite let her off the hook, and she knows it. There’s still defiance in her gaze and her surprising strength despite having such a low-key persona has won me over. I won’t let her know, of course. I like to keep people on their toes. It makes them do a better job.
As I engage in conversation, listening to Ivan’s recap of the negotiations with the Russian gangster, with Eric chiming in, I keep stealing glances at Anna. Something about her reminds me of Chloe, despite them being very different on the surface. I suddenly wish I had someone I could talk to. Someone not as jaded as Elena, or emotionless like Ivan. But I can’t pull Anna aside for a little chat: ‘by the way, I have someone tied up and I want her to be my slave, what’s your advice?’. She might be on the fringes of my business, using her degree and playing lawyer with my more seasoned attorneys, but even I realize there are limits.
I scoff and decide to fucking man up. I know what I’m doing and we’re back on track. I’ll make her my obedient pet. I will have my own live-in toy, and not be dependent on paying Elena for a whore every fucking time.
I turn to Eric. “So did the Russian arrive yet?”
He gives me a curious gaze which pisses me off. He knows me too well, and he’s clearly noticed I’ve been distracted.
“Day after tomorrow. Hilton. Everything is set up per your instructions, Luci.”
Anna’s eyes flicker between me and Eric. She clearly notices something is off. Does everyone see that? I narrow my eyes as I take in the rest of the table, but everyone is engaged in vivid discussions, getting drunker by the minute.
No. I’m on top of this.
Tonight, the real game begins.