Chapter 69: Chapter 69

× WARNING! × GRAPHIC NSFW CONTENT BELOW NOT INTENDED FOR YOUNG READERS AND INCLUDES DESCRIPTIONS OF S.A. ×

◇ KEL ◇

You're dead. A breathless corpse.

It was all I could think of while trying to stay motionless on the ground.  The ominous sound of the metal bolts locking from inside the room deflated every muscle in my body.

Darkness had replaced my vision, cold sweat covered me from head to toe, and the inside of my chest was coiling from all the anxiety.

Meeting Leandro Tomassini might just be the end of me.

Now that he had thrown me into a cold and dark room somewhere in the basement, I didn't know what to think of my fate.

Was he going to murder me now? Slit my throat open? Dump my chopped remains in the ocean?  Leave me in a ditch somewhere on the island?

My flesh had succumbed to a state of weakened numbness.  The nervous aches and the trembling of my hands had subsided, but it didn't feel any better.  I might as well be dead.

Tired. Weak. Too weak to move.

I lay lifeless on the unbearably cold floor, arms splayed over my head, with my bare stomach and legs near freezing against the smooth cement.  Fetal position.

The sight of my pale, helpless figure on the floor might evoke a shred of mercy in his rotten diabolical soul.  He had slapped me twice and even tried to choke me just minutes ago.  It wasn't a fatal choke, though, as if he was just testing me.

After the second slap, the salty warmth of my own blood felt like I would faint and die from internal hemorrhage right then and there.  I was in no way a spy or a snitch, but, apparently, this paranoid psycho thought I was capable of being both.

Fighting him off had been a total waste of energy.  The useless struggle since he forcefully dragged me out of the pool felt like it took an excruciating hour.  In reality,  it didn't even take him five minutes to put me where he wanted me.

Hidden. Cold. Alone. Scared to death.

The big, shiny gold watch he wore told me enough.  For now, pretending to be dead might be the only way to buy myself some time.  If I wanted to get out of here alive, I needed time and a survival plan.  Any plan, really.

Still. No noises. No movements.  "He's gonna think he killed you," was what my fleeting logic supposed as I stayed immobile on the cold floor.

"Strip."

Ugh.  That voice...  It made every part of me cringe in fear and hatred—in equal measure.

"I can hear you breathe. Stop pretending you don't hear me."

Stay put? Or get up? Should I try begging again? God, help me...

"Don't make me pull you by the hair, doll."  The monster snickered, but his voice sounded much calmer than I expected.  "I don't like hitting women. To be clear."

Seriously?  He didn't like to hit women?  Then why even bring me here?  Was he high? Or just clinically insane?

"You're dead. Don't move." It was what my brain kept telling me. No running away now. He might just shoot me in the head or snap my neck in half if I tried to escape again.

Leandro crouched next to me on the floor, the palpable heat from his body terrifying me into submission.  He smelled of chlorine, musk, and a fatal desire to hurt someone.  "I said, strip."

Shit.  He really wanted me to take my clothes off.  What the heck for?  But if it would buy me some time...

Leandro stood before my curled up body and waited for me to move.  When I slowly got back on my feet, dragging myself up, he laughed.

The psycho.

"I don't have all night, doll. Fucking strip."  He put his hands on his hips, his threatening tone enough to make me move faster. He watched me hesitate while I took my top off.

Miles...please be here.

"Sei mai stata cogli uomini?" the guy murmured to my lips.  Leandro stood terrifyingly close to me, and his warm breath reeked of alcohol.  No surprise there.

Whiskey? Bourbon?  I didn't care anymore.

"Rispondi mi." Leandro grabbed my small wrists with one swoop, holding me in place, dragging me towards a dusty, old wooden chair in the corner.

I flinched when I ended up on his lap, and my nose almost touched his thick beard. His empty, soulless eyes screamed at me to run for my life, but I knew better.

"Prettier than I thought." Leandro tucked my hair behind my ear. "Even when terrified of dying, you look like a doll."

"Don't."

The request wasn't loud or anything. The warning simply escaped my effort to seem unfazed when he pushed my thighs apart. The damp fabric of my underwear was now touching his bare abs.

He was ripped.  I saw how each hard muscle in his torso stretched and contracted every time he took a breath.  His firm, veiny arms scared me more.  He looked like he could snap my neck without much effort.  "Sei mai stata con uno italiano?"  Leandro smirked.  "Rispondi mi," the guy mumbled as his shallow breaths spread warmth on my face.

"Io sono ancora vergine." My voice trembled. Tolerating the pain of my pounding heart against my rib cage, I stayed as still as possible, careful not to set him off.  If it meant I'd lose every ounce of my dignity just to get out of here alive, then so be it.

Where the heck was Enzo?  Please wake up...  Enzo, please wake up and come get me.

"Vergine?"

"Sì."

"Let's see." Leandro's quick fingers tugged at the waistband of my underwear.

"No—  Please stop. Please—"

"Did you just lie to me again? Or do I need to see for myself?"  He chuckled when I whimpered and pursed my lips together to hold in a sob.  He massaged the taut skin of my hip, smirking at how my bare flesh shivered, his strokes cold and deliberate.  This psycho was determined to ruin me.  "So you've never had a boyfriend?"

"M-My family's Catholic."

"Ah... Cattolico." Leandro nodded weakly.  "Something in common, at last." Although he was no longer choking or slapping me to oblivion, his grin failed to conceal the menace in his intentions. "What else do you like about my brother?"

"We're not—"

"You like him better than that spoiled Falco kid? Or are you just using Lorenzio's stupidity to infiltrate our operations?"

"No, Signore—"  I let out a grunt. Again, my pained wrists were at the mercy of his death grip.

"Sometimes my brother's a philandering idiot with no sense of responsibility, but he's tamer when it comes to women."  Leandro made a face.  "So, you think he would take you seriously?"

"We're just friends."

"Somehow, I find that hard to believe, Mykaela." His strong arm curved around my back again, pulling me closer to him, holding my body too tight I almost choked. His hands would leave a lot of bruises I might have to explain to my family and friends.

That's if...I made it out of here alive.

"Ilya sent you here?"  The psycho held me against his firm torso, almost crushing me with his grip and squeezing the air out of me.  "You thought it's that easy to get intel on my operations?  Does Stefano know you're nothing but a gold-digging whore?"

"I'm not..."  My eyes stayed shut as I grunted in anguish.  "I'm not lying! I'm not spying on you or any—  Please just..."   I froze and tried to steady my breathing while my resolve to stay conscious dwindled amid the crippling pain.

Did he just say 'Ilya'?  The same Ilya I'd met in Belgrade? Niccolo's Uncle Ilya?

Tears of fear and anxiety threatened to run down my cheeks again.  I could only watch as his bulging arm held me still on his lap.

This monster would kill me right here on mere principle.  No regrets.  No remorse.  It wouldn't surprise me to find out Leandro Tomassini enjoyed murdering people as a pastime.

"You're... You're bleed—"

"What?"

"You're bleeding." I gasped for air. He finally let go of my wrists—thank God.  I stared at the nasty, bloodstained scratches I left on his arm and shoulder.  Probably a dozen.  Shit.  I hurt him, too. The edge of my nails looked pinkish now.

No wonder he got more upset.  The second my arms and hands started working properly again, I might even volunteer to patch him up.  Stall him in any way possible.

At this point, 20 Hail Marys might not give me any more leeway.  Time was a luxury I didn't have.  Showing him I was harmless and wasn't about to faint in paralyzing fear might be the only way to escape this place alive and breathing on my own.

"You're gonna stitch me up now?" Leandro glanced down at his own blood staining his skin.  He laughed lightly, almost seeming impressed by the injuries I caused.

"Does it hurt?"

"I like pain, if you haven't noticed." He grinned crookedly.  For sure another nasty thought was taking form in his thoroughly fucked up imagination.

"Do you...want me to clean that up?" I asked to feign concern.  Deep inside, though, I kept begging for Miles or Enzo to show up and immediately drag me out of here.

"Be my guest." The Tomassini boss smiled and studied my face.

With extreme caution, I pulled my hands out of his grip, and he let go of me, surprisingly.  I inspected his wounds.  All superficial but I did draw blood.  I gently touched the smooth skin surrounding the abrasions on his shoulder, something I thought would somehow gain his trust.

But Leandro grabbed my hands again.  No doubt purplish bruises would be all over me tomorrow.  His silence threatened me to stay still while his mischievous gaze made my spine tense up.

Then I heard knocks, calm but loud enough.

Leandro scowled at the door. Finally he let go of my hands. Then he grinned at my muteness. "Doll."  He kissed me hard on the cheek before he eased me off his lap. "Don't fucking move."

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