Page 54 of Cruel Bratva King

“Piccola ragazza.”Little girl. “Afanciullacannot tell me what to do and what not to.” He placed a rough finger under my jaw and lifted my face. “Don’t you remember me?”

I stared at him intently, trying to mark out where I’d seen his face before. He had familiar features, but it wasn’t anything that rang a bell. “Who are you?”

The corner of his lips quirked. He leaned in, his face close enough that his breath poured on my skin. He was disgusting. I wanted to run away from this room. “You sent me to jail two years ago for touching that Brazilian whore.”

Two years ago… Brazilian whore.My eyes widened, alarmed. “You’re…You—”

“Alas, you remember me.”

I did. I remembered his. The disgusting asshole standing in front of me was Aldo Santiago. I’d taken a pro bono case against him after he raped a nineteen-year-old Italian girl he met at the club, and his excuse was,‘She looked like she wanted it.’

He’d gotten sixty years because he had past convictions for sexual assault, but this was only two years later. “You should be in jail. How are you out so soon?”

“Did you think I’d be in jail for long? That bitch should be grateful I graced her with my touch.”

Anger swelled in my guts. If I weren’t trying to stay alive, I would have reached out and slapped him across the face for being such an animal. “You’re disgusting,” I spat, growing turbulent with fury. “Enjoy your freedom while you can. I’ll make sure to cage you like a beast if I survive tonight. Wild animals like you shouldn’t be roaming freely.”

He flashed a grin at me that would hunt me until death. “If you survive. Don’t fret,ragazza.I’ll make your death painless, and there will be pleasure too.” His eyes drifted over my body. I clamped my hand over my chest, suddenly aware of how light the fabric of my nightie was.

“Kill me if you will, but don’t fucking touch me.”

He grabbed my hand away from my chest. “What will you do? Put me behind bars?” He prowled closer, his eyes brown eyes dark with malice. “Even if you were to survive tonight, you won’t be alive for very long. The Italian mafia has already marked you, and they’ll get you soon. You asked why I was here. The answer is short; I’m here to take my revenge.”

Grabbing my legs, he pulled me to the edge of the bed, and a struggle ensued between us as he tried to rip my clothes off. I screamed, clawed, and fought, but he was too powerful.

I didn’t stop fighting, though. Instead, I fought harder. I didn’t care if I died, but I wasn’t going to allow this bastard to humiliate me the way he wanted. I couldn’t allow him to stick his disgusting dick inside me.

“Behave, or I’ll kill you,” he threatened after we’d struggled for minutes. We were both breathless now.

My brain misfired. “Kill me. Kill me, you bastard.”

“Should I? Fine.” He slapped me across the face, and there was a ringing in my ears for a good five minutes. Only after the ringing stopped did I start to feel my cheeks heat and throb with pain. Tears streaked down my face, and I started to quiver.

Maybe he would leave me alone if I begged, but I wasn’t going to. I didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of breaking me. “Stop. You won’t get away with this. You won’t—” I trailed off when he tore my dress apart, basically turning it into rags.

I held the two pieces together and tried to move away, but he pulled me back. Another slap across the face, and I fell face flat on the bed. The taste of copper permeated my tongue. The world stopped around me as I tried to process what was happening.

This sick bastard was going to rape me, and he was going to kill me after he raped me. If I got unlucky, each of his men would have their turns with me. Knowing I couldn’t win, my will to fight dissipated, my body numb to his touch.

His hands explored each of my breasts, teasing them. The only reaction he pulled from me was the need to throw up. I could hear his men’s laughter and mockery. Everything was happening so fast.

I closed my eyes, thinking of Sergey and trying to block out what was happening to me. My throat dried up, my body too exhausted for me to scream or whimper.

I heard the sound of Aldo’s belt as he unbuckled, and more tears streaked down my face. I should’ve stood up and tried to fight harder, but my body had gone into panic and decided to block out this moment,

His hands, as disgusting as they felt, parted my legs. Just when I expected him to stick himself inside me, three shots fired in the air. Someone walked into the room, and another shot rang went off, and someone thudded to the ground.

“Moy tsvetok.”

That was Sergey’s voice. Was I dead, or was I merely imagining him? I was tempted to open my eyes, but I was afraid the sound of his voice was only in my head. It wasn’t real.

The bed sank under his weight as he climbed it, then there was a familiar scent of cinnamon and expensive male perfume. “Open your eyes,moy tsvetok.It’s me. You’re safe now.” He patted my cheeks softly, his touching bringing me back to life.

I peeled my eyes open, and he was still there, concern smeared on his face. It wasn’t a dream; it was real. Sergey was here with me. “Sergey.” My voice cracked as I called his name. “Is it really you?”

“Yes. Are you hurt?” He scooped me up and started examining me, fear for me marred in his eyes. “I’m sorry I came late,moy tsvetok.I’m sorry.”

He tucked me in for a hug, and I buried my nose in his neck, greedily taking in his scent. The heat from his body simmered through his shirt and burned against my skin. “I was so scared, Sergey. I was scared.”