Grabbing my hand, he pulls it across the table. He ducks his head a little, angling his body so he’s not seen from outside as he glares at me. “Don’t play dumb. We had to detour crossing the bridge so they wouldn’t make us, and then we lost you. Where did you go?”
“I don’t know. He made me wear the blindfold again.”
Diego threads his fingers through mine and digs his nails into my palm. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not.” I yank my hand back. “My bodyguard is watching, and you’re going to ruin everything. I’m with Cristian now. The plan is working.”
“It doesn’t sound like he trusts you much if he’s blindfolding you everywhere you go.”
“And what, you wouldn’t do the same with newcomers? Come on. You know who he is. He’s not just going to trust me until I’ve earned it. Which means I can’t meet you again like this. It’ll make him suspicious. I told him I was coming here to break things off with you.”
Diego drums his fingers on the table. “Is that so?”
“I told him previously we were casually dating. Figured I’d need a cover story in case anyone saw you.”
“Maybe I should call the boss and tell him to slit your whore mother’s throat right now.”
I lean forward, pinning him with wide, panicked eyes. “No. Please no. Diego. I swear I’m telling the truth.” I gulp nervously. “I’ll have intel for Pablo in two weeks. I swear. Please don’t hurt my mother.”
His stabbing stare feels like tiny pinpricks slashing me everywhere. “Fine.”
I almost slump over the table in relief.
“Here’s how this is going down.” He grabs my head, pressing my brow to his. His rancid breath turns my stomach, and I hate him being all up in my face. “You’re going to get up, go outside, and pull your bodyguard away from the door. Act visibly upset.”
His grip tightens on the back of my head, but I barely feel the pinch. I’m stunned he agreed. At least it’s bought me a reprieve.
“Say you need to go to the bathroom. I’ll slip out while you occupy him. Alvaro is waiting for you with your new phone and a little gift.”
All the blood leaches from my face at his smirking tone, and nausea swims up my throat. My entire body starts trembling again. “I can’t go back to Cristian upset. He’ll be suspicious. Please tell Alvaro not to hurt me,” I plead.
“You know the rules, slut. You disobey, you and your precious mama get punished.” Those were not the initial rules, but they seem to twist them whenever it suits them, and I can’t do a damn fucking thing about it. His smirk kicks up a notch. “Tell that Italian prick I was cruel and my words upset you. He’ll buy that.” Releasing my face, he nudges my foot under the table. “Go. Pablo doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
I walk outside on autopilot, and I don’t even have to act upset when I pull John Angelo away from the door and play my part. I’m so tempted to tell him the truth, to beg him to shoot Diego in the back as he slinks away into the night, and to rescue me from the ordeal waiting in the bathroom. But I can’t.I can’t.Mom needs me. She didn’t mean what she said. She wants me to save her, and it’s my duty to do it.
So, I go to the bathroom, listen to Pablo reciting all manner of threats as Alvaro strips me to the waist and paws at me while assaulting my mouth with his vile cock. Pablo watches, and I’m grateful there’s no sign of my mother, if it means I’m taking the punishment this time for both of us. The assholes laugh as I vomit the second Alvaro is finished, throwing up his cum all over the floor. Alvaro crawls out the window, leaving me holding myself and rocking on the dirty bathroom floor.
It’s a miracle I can pull myself together after being violated, but I manage to do it before my bodyguard comes looking. Hiding the new phone inside my coat, I fix my clothes and gargle with tap water. I stare at my reflection in the mirror in a kind of numb, shocked state. I look as dead as I feel on the inside. My legs feel heavy as I force them to move, exiting the bathroom and heading outside.
John Angelo sends repeated concerned looks my way as we walk back to the penthouse. I know I should do better, but I don’t have it in me to pretend right now. Feeling eyes glued to me the whole way home, I try my best to hold it all in. I won’t give those sick fucks the satisfaction of knowing how much they’ve broken me this time.
Cristian is waiting in the hallway when I enter the penthouse, and it’s clear John Angelo messaged him. His troubled eyes drift over my pale face. “What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say in a voice that sounds dead to my own ears.
“Did he hurt you?” His voice is lethally quiet. “I want his name.”
“He was cruel with his words, and he upset me, but it’s done. I won’t be seeing him again, and I just want to put it behind me.”
“I don’t like the sound of this guy. Let me handle him.”
Oh, how I wish he could. I stare straight ahead, not looking at him, as I speak. “No. He’s in the past, where I want him to stay. Please drop it. I don’t want to talk about him ever again.”
Cristian moves to hug me, but I shake my head, hold up my palms, and take a step back. “Don’t. I got sick. I think I might be coming down with a stomach bug. I felt ill last night at the wedding too.” It’s a pathetic excuse, but it’s all I’ve got.
There’s an awkward pregnant pause for a few beats. “Go to bed. I’ll make you some peppermint tea. It should settle your stomach.”
I don’t have the energy to argue, so I merely nod and shuffle off. I’m shaking all over as I strip out of my clothes, shoving them in the laundry basket. Turning the shower on to the highest setting, I get in and try to wash the memory of unwanted touches from my body. But no matter how hard I scrub at my skin, I still feel dirty, broken, and damaged on the inside.
