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When my husband, Capo of the Chicago Outfit, finds out I have been taken hostage, he will be furious. Bobby will do whatever it takes to find me. The Russians will pay.
The man who kidnapped me keeps leering at me. He is making me nervous. He takes a cellphone out of the pocket of his black hoodie. The cellphone is my iPhone! He makes a call. He puts my phone on speaker.
Bobby
6:00 a.m.
I get off the Fielding’s private jet at O’Hare airport. The early Chicago morning is overcast. I feel the wind and some droplets of rain on my face. The air smells like Chicago. Like home.
My cellphone rings. I barely hear it over the noise from jets landing and taking off. O’Hare airport is one of busiest airports in the world. Speak of the devil – it is my hot wife. I grin. I expect an earful from her because I didn’t come home last night. I am planning to make it up to her and her beautiful pussy.
“Hey baby.” I answer as I walk with my four bodyguards to the waiting black SUV and black sedan.
“Hey yourself, baby!” A male voice with a Russian accent replies
I freeze right before I open the rear passenger door of my SUV. My bodyguards bump into my back. This is so not good. The hair all over my body stands on end.
“Who the fuck is this?” I demand.
Why does that Russian fucker have her phone? I am pissed. I am worried about Gwen.
“This is Christov Antonovich, asshole. But that is not important Capo Vincenzio. What is important is that we have your beautiful young bride in our possession.”
“Fuck you. I don’t believe you.”
“Hold on.”
I hear struggling, then a frightened little voice.
“Bobby?”
Shit, it’s Gwen. Fuck. Those bastards have her!
“Do you believe me now, Bobby?” Christov laughs.
I try to compose myself.Relax. I lean against the door of the SUV. I press my phone to my ear so hard that it hurts. I feel rain on my face. I need to think fast. I know exactly what the Russians want. Me. Gwen’s phone is still on speaker. Antonovich is making her listen. I loosen my tie. My bodyguards’ sense something is wrong. A jet flies over my head so low I think I can reach out and touch it.
“What do you Russian fuckers want?”
I run my hand over my chin. I need a shave.
“You have 30 minutes to get to the “Velvet Handcuffs” club, I’m sure you know where it is. If you are not here in 30 minutes, your wife will die a horrible death. We want you, capo. We will exchange her for you.”
“Fuck you, asshole! I don’t care what you do with her! Kill the Bitch if you want, you will be doing me a favor. She was given to me to repay a debt her father owed my father.” I laugh, “listen fucker, no matter what happens to my little wifey I still inherit all of her Daddy’s real estate. I get everything no matter what – if she dies, runs aways, or divorces me. I don’t fucking need her anymore. Fuck I don’t even want her anymore. She was a means to an end. Do whatever you want with her. I don’t care. I never wanted her in the first place. Sell her to some middle east billionaire as a sex slave for all I care!” I abruptly end the call.
Gwen
Bobby hangs up on Christov. The office goes quiet. The Russians glare at me.
My heart shatters into tiny sharp pieces. Bobby just threw me away. He does not care about me. Oh my God! This is all a game to him. I am in shock.
Bobby’s cruel words, “she was a means to an end” keeps echoing in my brain. I can’t help it – I start sobbing. He used me. I mean nothing to him. I am heartbroken. Breaking apart. I see pieces of myself on the floor. Bobby broke me. Mucus and tears drip on my chest. I want to go home. I want my father.
“Shlyukha! Printsessa!” The man from behind the desk yells at me.
He is pointing at me and screaming in Russian. He is furious. He grabs the stapler on his desk and throws it at me. The flying stapler grazes my upper arm. He pounds on his desk with his fists.
“Blyad svoloch! Give Vincenzio’s whore to the men then kill her when they are done with her!”
