Page 20 of Ruthless Sinner
The memory of yesterday still lingers in my mind. I can still feel the menacing chill that curled in my chest when he threatened to break me. I feigned indifference when it happened, but just now, when our eyes met, I realized I should have taken the threat seriously.
“You’re a bad bitch,” I remind myself as I walk to the closet to get dressed. “And you’ve survived 100% of your worst days so far. You can handle this. You can handle anything.”
Chapter 21
Dante
As I come back in the house, I notice Enzo is up. He stands in the kitchen, clad only in his rumpled pajamas, busily preparing a pot of coffee. His thick, dark hair is disheveled, falling in unruly waves around his face. “Hey, boss,” he says with a nod. “What are you doing up so early?”
“Take one guess.”
“I’m going to guess it isn’t the Martinelli girl since I can see her on the camera.” He gestures toward the iPad nestled in the corner of the kitchen, displaying Adalina in 4K 24/7. “So it has to be the other one.”
I give a curt nod in response, my lips remaining tightly pressed together in frustration. “My charming wife-to-be is upset that she isn’t allowed on the grounds.”
Enzo wisely does not say, ‘I told you so,’ even though this is precisely what he predicted would happen. Instead, his hands move with purpose, grabbing two matching mugs and filling them to the brim with coffee. “What did she do?”
“She had her driver ram the fence. Here’s hoping it’s still operational when they get the car unstuck because I have business to take care of this afternoon.” I’m supposed to meet up with my brothers today, as well as see a man about some imported guns.
With a grateful nod, I accept the cup of coffee from Enzo. I take a confident sip, feeling the hot liquid scald my throat and ignite my senses. The bitterness is like a slap in the face, snapping me out of my drowsiness and energizing me from within. “Speaking of business, I’ll need you to come with me to my 3:00 pm. We’re getting a shipment from Venice that we’ll need to inspect.”
His head bobs in a slight nod, his eyes focused as he takes a mental note. “How long do you want me to wait until reaching out to Martinelli again?”
Less than a day has passed, but Tommaso’s lack of motivation to return to the negotiation table is evident. I have no intention of accepting any offer from him, yet I was foolishly hoping he would at least make an effort to discuss terms. “Another couple of days,” I decide. “We’ll keep an eye on him and his men on the street. If we don’t start to see some action soon, we’ll force him to take action.”
Tommaso has men as far-reaching as Kansas City. They’re relatively harmless, but if they started going missing, he might be more inclined to listen to my proposal. Even though I have no plans of returning his daughter, I still want what he owes my father. I didn’t kidnap Adalina solely to have someone to fuck, though I’ll admit it’s certainly a satisfying bonus. I want what is owed to the Terlizzis, and I will not stop until I get it.
“I sent Carlo Donati for what you requested yesterday. He’ll have it by this afternoon.”
Carlo Donati is a necessary evil; I know he will get the job done, but his deep-seated hatred for women makes me hesitate. When he became part of the family, it was after serving a fifteen-year stint in prison for murder. He came home one day, found his wife sleeping with his best friend, and killed both of them in a crime of passion. Or at least that’s what his lawyer convinced the judge and jury of.
In reality, Carlo had suspicions his wife had been cheating on him for years, but he couldn’t prove it. He had meticulously plotted her demise in countless twisted scenarios fueled by a love that had turned into an all-encompassing hatred. When the chance finally presented itself, he unleashed a brutal and savage attack on her unsuspecting lover, beating him to a bloody pulp before strangling her with his bare hands. Since that day, Carlo’s presence has been a constant threat to those around him, a simmering volcano always ready to erupt in violence.
“Do you think I’m being too hard on Adalina?” I watched Enzo interact with her yesterday on camera and listened to him recount the story in his own words afterward. Every inch of Adalina Martinelli radiates fragility, like a porcelain doll waiting to be shattered into a million pieces. I should protect her, but her sharp tongue and defiance ignite a fire inside me that wants to both cherish and destroy her at the same time.
Enzo carefully weighs what he knows against the situation. In the end, he shrugs. “Six in one, half a dozen in the other.” I wait for him to elaborate. “On one hand, her situation could be worse. She could be in the dungeon as you originally planned. On the other hand, she’s a trauma survivor. She keeps being put in situations that force her into hyper-independence and justified anger. You’re reacting to her actions, which are a reaction to yours. It’s a vicious cycle. What do you want out of this, Dante?”
His question catches me off guard. From the moment I laid eyes on Adalina, all I could think about was ravishing her until she couldn’t stand. She carried herself with an irresistible confidence that drew me in like a moth to a flame. But she was never meant to end up locked in Lucia’s bedroom getting her pussy pumped full of my cum. She was supposed to be my pawn in a game of power and retribution. “I don’t know,” I say, my words tinged with uncertainty. “I don’t owe her anything.”
“Of course, you don’t,” he agrees. “She’s yours to do whatever you want with. Leave her locked upstairs, in the dungeon, kill her, whatever you want. You’re the only one who can decide what happens to her.”
She is my possession now, a mere object to use and manipulate at will. Enzo is right, and it fuels my desire to assert my dominance over her. I am the one in control, able to do whatever I please to Adalina without consequence.
Chapter 22
Adalina
Enzo enters the room, his eyes avoiding mine as he sets a tray of steaming pancakes and crispy bacon down on the table. He leaves without a single word, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
My stomach growls, but I don’t move toward the tray. I’ve decided to go on a hunger strike. There’s no particular reason why. Despite not being mistreated by Dante, I resent being trapped in this room. The walls seem to press in on me, suffocating and overwhelming my senses. It’s a familiar sensation, having been imprisoned before. My father would sometimes allow me the privilege of watching television in the living room, but most days, I was left alone with my pain and thoughts as they swirled and churned inside me.
To combat my growing boredom, I disappear into the books on the shelves, but the Theory of Education does not entertain me for long. Dante said his sister is a teacher, and almost everything on her shelves reflects that. She has a few bodice rippers hidden behind the intellectual stuff, but they all feature pirates or Vikings.
I decide my time will be better spent figuring out how to shock Dante into returning to the room; his bodyguard makes for boring companionship. I shuffle through Lucia’s box of naughty toys in the closet and pull out a vibrator. I am not comfortable with using another woman’s sex toys, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I make sure to wash it with soap and water. Twice. I doubt she’ll come back to claim it any time soon, but better safe than sorry.
Back home, I’m used to manual stimulation. If my father found a dildo or vibrator among my things, he’d beat me with it. Since I don’t have a bedroom door, my self-love is often confined to my daily showers. Whether it’s teasing my nipples or clit until I’m in a heightened state of arousal or fucking myself in the shower with the base of my hairbrush, I get my kicks the old-fashioned way. So, I’m curious how quickly this vibrator will do the trick.
In the bedroom, I count down the minutes until Enzo returns. Yesterday, he came back after an hour. Today, he does the same. With only a minute left, I eagerly climb onto the bed and position myself. As I lay down and spread my legs, I feel the cool air tickle my skin. Then, with anticipation building inside me, I press the vibrator against my waiting clit. Instantly, my senses are flooded with intense pleasure, causing my entire world to split in two. My body involuntarily bucks against the toy, desperate to feel more sensation.