But no. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
All my silly thoughts had gone. No more believing my baby sister didn’t need my protection anymore. No more having to give a shit about Tino because Lina and Nick were Bellomos. No more room for this weak shit in this world my sister and I were forced to live in.
I still had one last chance to protect my sister and myself. To take down the real enemy and snap Lina out of her delusions. To save her and my nephew once and for all.
That chance was the gorgeous monster that held me captive, cuffed naked to his bed, that hated me as much as I hated him, that wanted nothing but to humiliate and break me so he could make me his own to use and abuse for the rest of my life.
If I gave him what he wanted, he’d give me what I wanted. If I told him what he wanted to hear, if I convinced him I’d be his, if I made the right moves, my captor would be my freedom.
But how could I win this game when I knew nothing about my opponent?
Well, I knew a few things. He was dangerous, and not just because he was a vicious torturer and a killer. Domenico Lanza could be gentle and caring when he wanted to, and that was more dangerous than his cruelty. As much as I was afraid of his monstrosity and roughness, it was his other side, his gentle and I dared say vulnerable side, that terrified me the most. Mindfucks were way worse than rape.
Another thing I knew was that, like me, he was stubborn as fuck and hated to lose. The longer I fought the longer he tortured me. He didn’t care how long it took because he enjoyed that shit. Slow burn torment to the body and soul.
Direct confrontation and head to head challenges were never going to make me win. I needed another weapon to stand a chance against the coyote. He wasn’t an actual coyote I could haze by standing tall and waving him off, yelling, “Go away, fucking ugly coyote.” He wasn’t ugly either. God, I wished he’d been. But he was stunning. Ripped with muscles everywhere, he didn’t have six packs. He had packs over packs and between packs. He had fucking sinews in his Adonis belt, and his ass… Fuck me.
No. Nope. I didn’t want him to fuck me. I hated him. He was the enemy. The one I’d use to get to the bigger enemy. I could never forget that. No matter how many times his body put my sanity to a halt.
I racked my brain to find a way, a weakness I could use to get the Coyote on my side rather than antagonize him. Before this dreadful marriage, his weakness was me. He wanted me, and I thought I could use it but failed. Now, he had me, and I had no leverage. He could do anything to me, to my body. My consent meant nothing to him because I fucking said, “I do.” I signed the papers and let Tino walk me down the aisle and give me to him.
What else could be Dom’s weakness? What else did I know about him?
Nothing. Not even the simple things like his favorite color or food. What music or movies he liked, if any. I didn’t even know if his parents were still alive or if he had any family other than his cousins and their parents.
I did know one thing, though. A secret. That weird name he used to have. Berry.
How did you get that name, Coyote? Who gave it to you and why? Why was it a secret?
And more importantly, when and how could I use such secret to my benefit?
I shifted up a little, my arms, back and ass so sore. I was going to get a rug rash, and those stupid cuffs would definitely leave marks on my wrists. I must have bent my knees up to my chest and stretched them back a hundred times, trying to give my circulation a nudge. I didn’t want my legs to go as numb as my arms. At the same time, I hoped to find a position that would allow me some sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, the pain or the cold or the hunger or the fear yanked me awake.
This time, it was my bladder. I glanced at the windows. The sun cast an orange hue all over the sky. It was almost sunset, and my captor wasn’t awake yet. Maybe, I should rattle my chains so he could fucking wake up and let me go to the bathroom. Or I could just pee on his precious carpet—that thing looked expensive—piss him off and repel him at the same time. He’d have to uncuff me and let me shower.
Or he’d just let you sit in your own piss and come all over you again because he’s a sick sadist pig who must have seen more disgusting things and isn’t deterred by something as trivial as piss.
“No…per favore…zio…no…” Domenico mumbled in his sleep.
I glanced at him as he stirred, a deep, sweaty frown on his forehead. He uttered a few other words through groans. Was he having a nightmare?
“Dom.” My throat felt like sandpaper, and my rasp was so quiet I didn’t think he heard me. “Domenico,” I managed a little louder.
He shivered, his breath catching. His groans were hard as if he was choking. I couldn’t reach him so I shook the cuffs. Maybe that would wake him. “Dom, wake up!”
He bolted upright, grinding a swear, and his hand was abruptly on my neck, squeezing tight.
“Fuck, Dom. No. It’s me. Don’t…” I gasped for air. He was really choking me, not just intimidating me like always. “I just… I can’t…breathe.”
My hands and legs jerked in a feeble attempt to hit or kick him, anything to make him snap out of it. “Dom…please. Wake…up.”
The primal yellow glow of his eyes softened, but then darkened with something I couldn’t read. His hand stopped squeezing, and he ran his fingers along my throat instead. “Mi disp… Are you okay?”
Coughing and tearing up, I looked at him. “I’m out of breath, about to have a heart attack and almost pissed myself. Other than that, I’m dandy,just like you left me.”
He rubbed his eyes with a sigh. “I should have been more careful. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You were having a nightmare.”
