AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Victor pats me on the head, but he still doesn’t crack a smile.
After however many minutes of me getting more and more desperate, Angelo enters the room. Victor says something to him and Angelo nods, after which Angelo lifts me up. I’m trembling, trying so hard to stay in control of myself, but I just want to cry.
Angelo takes me to the attached en-suite. I’m not in any state to admire— or judge— the decor. I just notice that it’s blinding white, and Angelo puts me into the massive tub. I stare up at him, confused, until he reaches down to push against my stomach.
He pushes right against my bladder, and I shake my head desperately. “No! Please, just undo my legs, I’ll use the toilet, you can tie me up again afterward, I won’t fight you, don’t make me—”
Angelo’s hand presses down even more insistently. The vibrations continue.
This must have been why Victor made me drink so much. I glance at the door, and I see him standing there. I keep shaking my head, sniffling and trying not to cry, but I can already feel the inevitability of it.
Victor then strides over and turns the faucet on. Warm water touches my toes, and my desperate attempts to hold it in crumble. I wet myself like a fucking child, and I break out sobbing. I hate how ashamed I am, I hate how much this is affecting me, but the tears don’t stop.
Victor doesn’t turn the water off until I’m completely empty. The vibrations stop. My body is shaking, a bone-deep cold seeping into me. Angelo grabs a towel and cleans me off, wiping me everywhere, and that just makes me cry harder.
“Sorry,” I say, and I don’t know why. “Sorry.”
After Angelo picks me up, Victor rubs at the tears on my face again—and kisses the top of my head. It does something strange to me, my chest squeezing, and I almost beg him to stay with me. At least I have Angelo’s arms around me.
At least it’s all over.
Angelo carries me back to the other room. I’m so tired that I just want to fall asleep in his embrace, and I close my eyes.
Then I feel Angelo lowering me down again. But it’s not into the bed; it’s back into the box.
“No! Please, please, please! I’m sorry!” I cry, but it’s useless.
My sobbing gets louder as they close the lid on me once more.
21
Victor
Angelo gives me a look. “Are you sure this is a good idea? She seems really messed up.”
We can both hear Lucia sobbing inside the trunk. I can’t deny how her sounds are affecting me. Having her helpless right there, intermittently shouting and crying, had made it near impossible to get any sleep—because of how hard I’d been.
“Do you have a better one?” I ask mildly. “I didn’t think you were as soft as Santino.”
“I’m notsoft,”Angelo argues, but he stops there. When I sit down on the trunk, he makes a frustrated gesture. “Fine, I feel bad for her. Her tears are hot but if she’s a simpering doll when this is all done, it’s not fun anymore. And you know she didn’t sign up for this.”
Lucia hadn’t signed up for anything Angelo did to her either, but I don’t point that out to him. He’s done his fair share of damage to Lucia, both physical and psychological. I might have given directions, but it was Angelo who murdered Bonito, and it was Angelo who smeared blood all over Lucia’s lips.
It was Angelo who had nearly choked her to death.
“We don’t need to keep her. You and Santino were pretty adamant that you didn’t want me to send her back even after this fiasco.”
The suggestion has some appeal. The videos were already dehumanizing, but if I deliver Lucia to her father like this, completely broken and useless, it would send quite the message. On the other hand, I have my doubts that Bellini cares that much, so long as he can still pawn her off on Pavone.
I had Santino look into Lucia’s story about Pavone. It took him a bit of doing, but he uncovered the photo she’d mentioned. It wasn’t pretty, and the threat of it was palpable. I have to admit I’m a little impressed with Pavone’s ruthlessness. If he wasn’t already in bed with Bellini…
“Christ, don’t even joke about it,” Angelo mutters. He sits down in one of the armchairs and stretches out his long legs. “She’s too good for him. And I’m telling you straight up, if you actually hand her back, I’m out of here. I can take care of Bellini and Ricci on my own.”
I’m not surprised. Angelo’s loyalty is tenuous at best, and the closer we get to destroying Bellini, the more I can feel it fraying.
We both sit quietly while Lucia screams for a second, but the noise is short-lived. Her outbursts have gotten less frequent the longer her confinement has gone on. She seems to have learned that she can’t change anything about her situation.
“How are Maria and Lorenzo?” I ask casually.
