The other men laugh. “Well, if you insist,” a man with a bald head and a skull tattoo says, shoving me down on my back on the bed.
Mom screams again, and chills crawl all over me despite the stifling heat in the room. I buck and writhe while trying to fight the man crawling over me.
The door slams against the wall, and a dark shadow fills the doorway. “Enough,” a man with a deep masculine voice says, the cadence booming around the small room. Authority is evident in his tone, and the men defer to him as he stalks inside. This man is clearly the one in charge. The man on top of me is lifted off and thrown to the floor. “No one touches the girl.” The newcomer wears army fatigues and a neutral expression as his eyes roam my body. He pulls me to my feet and hauls me around in front of him. “Lift the woman,” he commands, and the bastard hurting my mom pulls out and yanks her to her feet.
Mom stares vacantly at me with tear tracks streaking her pretty face.
I want someone to pinch me and drag me from this nightmare because this cannot be real.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” the boss says to Mom. “We won’t touch your daughter as long as you spread your legs and do as you’re told.”
“Why are you doing this to us?” Mom whispers.
“We have our reasons.”
“Please let us go,” I say. “We won’t tell anyone anything. Just let us go home, and we will forget all about this.”
“That’s not how this works.” His hot breath fans over my ear, and my legs almost buckle in disgust. “The big boss has important plans for you. You cooperate, and we’ll let you live. Refuse, and we’ll keep you alive, but you’ll wish you were dead.”
“What plans?” Mom asks, her voice cracking.
“Do you agree to my deal?” he says, ignoring her question.
Mom’s gaze meets mine, and everything I see reflected in her eyes mirrors how I feel. Steely determination radiates from her face when she returns her gaze to the boss. “You promise she won’t be touched?”
“Yes. I give you my word. We need her unmarked and as pure as a non-virgin can be.”
Mom eyeballs him before calmly agreeing. “Okay.”
“No, Mom!” I cry. “No, please no.” I wriggle against my captor, but his arms lock around my chest, caging me in place. “I won’t do it!” I screech. “Whatever you want, I won’t do it. If you hurt my mom, I refuse to cooperate!” Lifting my legs, I swing back, trying to hit the prick in the balls, but my feet only land midway up his thighs, and they lack a punch.
Shoving me to my knees on the cold stone floor, he bends down and clamps his hand around my throat. Not enough to restrict my breathing, but it’s enough of a threat to control me. “You will obey,” he says in a cold, clinical tone. “My men have needs that must be met. Cooperate, and I’ll restrict it to once a week. Disobey, and your mother will bear your punishment. If you cause continuous problems, you’ll both become cartel sex toys, and you’ll be fucked every hour of every day for the rest of your miserable lives.”
“Cartel?” My voice shakes, and my lip wobbles as he secures a leather collar around my neck, locking it into place.
“You’re the property of the Sinaloa Cartel now,” he says, straightening up and yanking on the chain attached to the collar. My head whips back involuntarily. He stares down at me with emotionless black eyes. “Forget your old lives because they no longer exist. The quicker you accept that truth, the easier it will be for everyone.”
“Fuck. You.” The words slip out before I can trap them.
He folds the chain around his fist, stretching my neck and body back at an awkward angle. “That’s two infractions your mother now has to pay for.”
Icy fingers tiptoe up my spine, and nausea floods my mouth.
He looks across the room. “Continue and fuck all three holes.” He relaxes the chain, and my body falls back into position. Mom cries, and I squeeze my eyes shut. “Watch,” the boss commands. Slapping sounds and grunts mix with Mom’s quiet whimpers and sobs. I don’t want to watch, but I don’t want Mom punished further either, so I compel my eyes to open.
Pain obliterates every part of me as I’m forced to watch my mother being assaulted by multiple men in multiple ways. It seems to last for hours, and my heart is a torn, bloody mess by the end of it.
“Don’t worry,” the boss says as Mom collapses on the floor when the last man pulls out and closes his zipper. “Your turn to sacrifice will come.”
1
CRISTIAN
Scrubbing my hands down my face, I sigh heavily while Isa escorts the last candidate to the door. Swiveling in my chair, I turn to face the large window in my spacious office at DiPietro Freight Management & Logistics. The stunning views of the waterfront from one window and the sprawling uptown from the other are things I love about my office. As I stare at the gently rolling water, my frustration recedes a little. I know Isa is doing her best, but she strayed too far from the brief, and I’m annoyed at the time she’s wasted. She’s finishing up in a month, which means we’re running out of time to find a replacement.
I turn around when I hear footsteps approaching in the hallway outside, my gaze snagging on the framed photo on my desk. Gia took it last year at Chiara’s and Niccolo’s joint second-birthday party. My smile is instant. Elio’s twinkling green eyes and mischievous smile send a flood of warmth through my body. I can’t believe he’s four now. Time is moving way too fast, and I want to slow it down, to imprint every precious moment with my son in my heart so I never forget how special these early years have been.
“I think she’s the winner,” Isa says, reentering my office with a wide smile and a confident swagger.
