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I wish I was worthless.
But I’m not going to let them break me down. I’ve been through enough to where this is child’s play. These attempts at humiliation and degradation are fumbling compared to Victor’s particular cruelties.
“Yeah?” Pavone eyes me. “He got a big cock, babe?”
I really do not want to be talking about cocks in front of my father, but they cornered me and put me into this position. “No,” I say. And compared to Angelo, he doesn’t. “He’s just overcompensating everywhere else.”
Pavone laughs. “I knew it.”
I’m wondering what videos they sent now. How much did they see? Did they see me being face-fucked, or eaten out? Did they just see me being groped? I don’t know, and it’s frustrating—but it’s not like I can ask. It stands to reason they wouldn’t have sent anything that would’ve let them be identified, though, and I can’t remember them ever wearing masks.
For some reason, that’s a massive relief of a realization. It takes out a lot of what they did to me, because the cameras hadn’t been wielded by an expert crew. Even with Saint’s skills, there still would’ve been too much visible.
Then again, nothing had stopped them from making more content while I’d been unconscious.
Damn it.
I’m back to square one. I don’t know what they’ve seen or what they know, and I have to err on the side of caution without seeming like I’m lying. It’s like navigating a labyrinth and all its traps, and I don’t know my way through.
I startle when Pavone grabs my wrist and places my hand against his crotch. “I’m much more of a man than Corvi, babe. The wedding night will be… bloody.”
I keep my hand perfectly still, not wanting to stimulate him in any way. But what I do feel of his cock, it certainly doesn’t compare to Angelo. It will never compare to Angelo and Saint taking me at the same time.
I whimper, though, to give the impression of being intimidated. “I… I…”
He likes my fear, if his expression is anything to go by. Likes it too much, because he puts his hands on my shoulders and starts pushing me down. “Bend over, babe. I gotta see how wrecked your cunt is. Gotta make sure this deal is still worth it.”
I can handle this. I can handle him looking. I’ve dealt with worse.
I let him push me down onto the edge of the bed, and he slaps the inside of my thigh.
“Spread open wide. I’m sure you know how to do that by now.”
Fuck you.
I spread my legs, wishing I wasn’t trembling. I’m not breaking down, but maybe I should. Maybe that would get Pavone off faster and he’d just leave me alone.
His finger jabs into my cunt, and I do yelp then, startled. I’m not wet, and it’s dry and painful as he probes into me.
“Hmm… Not bad… Still clinging to my finger. I guess she’s not so ruined after all, Giorgis,” Pavone tells my father.
My cheeks are burning, mortification running through me at the idea that all of this is happening with my father only a few feet away. I keep my eyes closed though, not wanting to see it.
“Might want to start practicing with some toys, babe. My cock’s a lot bigger than a few fingers.” Pavone starts thrusting his finger in and out crudely. As much as I hate this sensation, the way it burns, I’m also really grateful he isn’t bothering to touch my clit.
I bet he doesn’t even know where it is, I think viciously.
Finally, he pulls his finger out entirely and slaps my ass. “All right, enough games. Now that we’ve got Lucia back, we can plan a proper attack on Corvi. No more fucking excuses, Giorgis.”
I quickly get up and shuffle back toward the dresser, well away from Pavone’s wandering hands. I grab my dress and pull it over my head before Pavone can argue, tugging down hard at the bottom hem to cover as much of myself as possible.
My father is keeping his eyes fixed on Pavone. “We can send people to his place without worrying about collateral damage. Get payback for Nico.”
“Nico?” I repeat, confused. I hear the name in Angelo’s voice, mourning his brother, but of course they aren’t talking about Nico Guerra.Nicois a common name.
“Nico Duilio. He was one of the capos—” my father starts, but Pavone cuts him off.
“What’s the point in explaining this to a woman?” Pavone asks. “There are better uses for her mouth than asking questions anyway.”
