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“I want to go home.”
Dante tightened his grip on my hand. “You are home.” His smoldering gaze pierced through me. “I own you… for now.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I can.” His face was devoid of any emotion.
Even Angelo wasn’t this far gone. He still had some semblance of the boy I once knew inside him. At least he was capable of love and compassion, even if he could only show it to his mother and me.
Holding onto my wrist, Dante hopped up onto the stage next to me. He moved into me, forcing me to take a few steps back until I ran into what felt like a brick wall. I glanced up and saw a set of deep brown irises, olive skin, and dark, wavy hair. If they weren’t the coldest, most ruthless men I’d ever met, Dante and Anthony would be a girl’s wet dream. Instead, they were my nightmare.
Anthony wrapped his strong arms around my stomach and slid his big hands up to my breasts. The look in Dante’s eyes as his goon defiled me set my skin on fire. He liked watching this man touch me.
“You’re such a dirty little whore,” Dante whispered against the shell of my ear, as he pushed the lace bra to the side and twisted my nipple between his fingers. “You didn’t even put up a fight.”
“As if I have a choice,” I spat back. “I either do what you want, or you will kill me.”
“That’s up to you to decide.” Dante’s voice was so distant and harsh. “I’m sure that pretty pussy of yours has got to be worth something.” He looked at Anthony. “I wonder if she tastes as good as she looks?” He slid his finger down my bare stomach with a wicked smirk.
“Only one way to find out, Boss.” Anthony breathed on the side of my face, still keeping me in place.
Dante was the perfect name for a man who had the face of an angel and reminded me of the Devil. I was taken from one circle of hell and thrown into another, all for the purpose of pleasing rich men with too much money, power, and time on their hands.
With a simple nod, Dante communicated with Anthony, who took his good old time removing his hands from my body. Both men stepped off the stage, leaving me there alone. At least a hundred pairs of eyes stared back at me. Nervous energy shot through me, rocking my system with a violent force. Under pressure, I would crumble. I couldn’t think with the lights in my eyes and the men watching me.
“Let’s go, honey,” a man yelled out to me. “Shake that ass for us.”
Dante raised his hand to silence the man in the crowd. That was all it took for everyone in the room to fall in line and await Dante’s next order.
I cowered under Dante’s intense gaze. He locked onto me and licked his lips. “You must be hot. Take something off. I’m growing tired of you in so much clothing. I need to see what I’m getting in return.”
Return for what?
I was so confused, but I didn’t want to argue and piss Dante off. Anthony sat next to Dante, in a chair in the front row, with his cell phone pointed at me.
“Take off your bra,” Dante ordered.
I reached up to slide my fingers under the straps, turning my head to the side, my hands shaking. No one had ever seen me naked but Angelo. And maybe Sonny. There was a few times when Sonny had walked in on me having sex with Angelo, though I wasn’t sure how much of me he’d seen.
Men who held numbered cards on sticks in their hands surrounded me. They were there to bid on me. I was no man’s property, not even Angelo’s, and yet the boss of Atlantic City somehow owned me. Or, at least, he thought he could own me. No matter what I had to do to survive, I would make it out of there—dead or alive.
I didn’t care one way or the other, as long as I was able to keep my sanity intact. But I had to do this one thing. There was no getting out of stripping for these men. Biting my bottom lip, I kept my eyes on no one in particular and pushed my bra straps down my shoulders. Degrading didn’t even begin to cover it. More like mortified, scarred for life.
Dante moved his hand to his thigh, his focus fixed on me. “Take it off. Now!”
He was losing his patience with me. I reached a hand behind me to unhook the clasp, the silky fabric falling to the floor at my feet. Eye contact proved to be too much for me. With all the whistles and howls, I couldn’t face the men who were yelling for me to keep going.
“Dance for us, Raven,” Dante said, tapping his fingers on his thigh.
Music was already on in the background, though the buzzing in my head and the sounds of men screaming my new name dulled it out. A new song blared through the overhead speakers, piercing my eardrums. I was too tired, hungry, and scared to process the name of the song. It sounded familiar, a rock beat I’d heard before, but I couldn’t place it.
I moved my hips back and forth, biting back the tears that welled in my bottom lids. Much like the rest of my body, my nipples had been sore for days, and with my breasts jiggling for these men, the pain only intensified.
“Look at me,” Dante said, and I did as he asked, continuing to slowly move to the beat. “Smile for the camera, Raven.” Again, I followed his command, and he rewarded me with another shit-eating smirk. “The skirt,” he said, pointing at me. “Take it off.”
I sucked in a deep breath, telling myself I could do this. It was just clothes, just skin. They could have my body, but they would never have my heart or my mind. No one could take the place of Angelo. No man would ever hold my heart in his hand and have the power to crush it. Each thump in my chest was for the only man I’d ever loved.
I pushed the skirt over my hips, allowing it to drop to the floor around my ankles. Then, I lifted my feet to kick it to the side. Bared to these men, with nothing left but the black G-string covering my pussy, I waited for my next instruction. I only ha
