“That’s not true, Arianna. You know we have something special. You know we can be so fucking good together. You know it felt right.”
“Is that what you think? It felt right? When I was unconscious. While I was incoherent, it felt so good to you. Is that what you want me to believe? That it was a misunderstanding, that we were making love, not that you were raping me? Just so I get the facts right.” I keep my voice hollow, void of emotion, just facts; my monotone voice seeps through the room.
“You know it wasn’t like that, Arianna, you know it. You want me. If we get rid of Vittorio, we can be together. We can take out Bellino too, and take over. We can rebuild, Arianna. We could be good together.”
I lash out. I punch him straight in the dick, and he coughs out and wheezes as I take his breath away. His body tries to curl in on itself, but being hooked from the ceiling, he can’t. He gasps, and I climb from the chair and head over to the small table in the corner. I drag that towards him and leave it just to the side of my chair, far enough away from him that he can’t do anything with it.
Then I make my way to the wall, the wall where Father’s tools are. I take his large hunting knife off the bracket, and I slide my hoodie off, wiping the knife onto it. I take it and lay it down on the table.
“Arianna, please, you know we could make this work. It’s a misunderstanding. You know I would never hurt you. Arianna, I love you.” I walk away, back over to the tools, and I take hold of some tin snips and a screwdriver. I make my way back to the chair. I take my time sitting down. I’m feeling rather dramatic. I take the lighter I have from my pocket. I place the snips down on the table, and I light the lighter, running the screwdriver through the flame. I stare, fixated on the flicker of the oranges and yellows. The blue centre dances as the screwdriver passes through it. I wait until the blade glows red.
Matteo’s body is frozen in place. His gaze wide, fixed like a deer in the headlights, shallow, quick breaths echo around the room, probably feeling that if he doesn’t move, I won’t notice him, his naked frame dangling from the ceiling. He’s staring at the flame and hoping for a better outcome, wishing this were all a dream.
I glance up at him and lurch forward, thrusting the screwdriver straight into his penis. Jabbing him halfway up the shaft, he screams out as he tries to push away, but his toes just skim the floor. I withdraw the screwdriver. The tension leaves his body, and his head drops to his chest, his rough panting and moaned sobs soothe my soul. I heat it up again. I take my time. I concentrate on the flicker of the flame. Tears stream down his face.
“Arianna, please!” he sobs. I don’t even look up. I start to hum as I wait, moving the screwdriver back and forth through the fire. I heat the tip until it’s red hot and glowing. I stab straight into his dick again. Skewering it like a kebab. I hold it there while he screams and thrashes, and when it cools and he collapses against the chains, I pull it out and heat it up all over again, humming the eerie little tune.
When I’ve pierced up his shaft five times, I stare up at him, the piss-soaked floor, the tears streaming down his face,the smell of burnt flesh. I smile up at him. A real, genuine smile. Probably the first since I’ve been back. I start to feel a little more like myself.
“Ahh, Matteo, I’m just getting started.” I heat the shaft of the screwdriver again, and grin up at him as I stand and thrust it into his stomach. The hiss of his flesh as the screwdriver pushes its way inside makes me smile. The tears flow freely now. His head hangs to his chest as he cries out. I sit back down and heat it again. I go hotter, longer this time, building the anticipation. I stand holding the lighter with the tip in it, red and glowing.
I let spittle slide over my bottom lip, allowing it to splash down on the screwdriver. The hiss pierces the room as the steam floats up. I grin at him and lunge, stabbing it straight into his nipple. He screams and shakes, bucking in the hold of the chains, and I laugh out.
“You having fun yet, baby?” I snark at him. “Doesn’t it feel so fucking good?”
“Please, Arianna, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry. Please?”
“If I’d have begged you to stop fucking me, if I’d have been able to say those words, if I could have said stop, would you, would you have stopped?”
“Yes, yes, of course I would. I would have stopped.”
“But you made sure I couldn’t say stop, didn’t you? Maybe that’s where I’m going wrong. Maybe I should make it so you can’t say stop. So the word ‘no’ can’t exit your poisonous lips.” I place the lighter and screwdriver down against the table and pick up the knife. I stab the tip into the flesh of his stomach. His abs tighten as I twist the knife just into the surface. He hisses out.
“Say it, tell me to stop, tell me no.” I smile at him. “Fucking beg.”
“Stop, please stop. No, Arianna. No, please.”
I cackle out a noise, twisted and dark as it echoes around the room. The door clicks open, and Vittorio walks in. He strolls over to me and places a kiss on my cheek, stepping to the back wall, leaning against the workbench.
“Vittorio, please, she’s lost it. She’s having a breakdown. Please stop her.”
I turn to stare at Vittorio, but he winks at me. The small quirk of his lip lets me know I have his support. I move the chair. I step right up to Matteo, the knife in one hand, trailing at my side. I lean up on my tiptoes and start to kiss him.
He gasps, but his head naturally leans down to me, and I slide my tongue against his; he lets me in. I roll my tongue over his, and as he relaxes, he loses himself in the kiss. I bite hard and lean back. Gripping his tongue between my teeth, I pull it as far out of his mouth as I can before bringing the knife between us. He grunts, squeals, and tries to pull back as I slice through his tongue. His scream pierces the air as I take a step back. Blood floods his mouth and pours down his face. His mumbled screams billow out around me.
I reach up and take his tongue out of my mouth. I toss it onto the worktop at the side of Vittorio, and he reaches out, grabbing my wrist and pulling me to him. Slamming our lips together, his tongue forces its way inside my mouth. The metallic edge of blood in the kiss joins in making my toes curl as I melt into his arms. The mumbled noises from Matteo drowned out under the sound of my racing heart. The way Vittorio looks at me, he doesn’t see me as broken; he just sees me.
I wrap my arms around him, and I grind my body against him. It’s been too long since I felt the heat between us. I’ve missed him so much, but he’s been patient. He waited. He held me while I cried. He listened while I screamed. And he left when I could take no more and needed to be alone. Well, he sat outside the door until I calmed down. But he’s been whateverI’ve needed him to be. And in this moment, I need my husband. I need to feel. Vittorio pulls back from me. Grabbing at my hips, he slides the jogging bottoms down over them, and then he turns me around to face Matteo.
Vittorio’s voice comes out dark and gravelly. “I want you to watch how beautiful she is when she comes. I want you to see what you missed out on.” His hands wrap around me, one sliding into my underwear and one into my vest top as he gropes at my breast, pushing his thick finger between my lips. I groan, and he kicks my leg wider apart, rubbing his fingers along my clit. I gasp. He kisses my neck, that spot I love that drives me wild, and I groan and buck into his hand.
“See how fucking beautiful she is, how beautiful she could have been for you, if you were a decent human being instead of the depraved excuse for a man you are.”
He flicks across my clit again as he thrusts a thick finger inside me, pinning me to his chest. He grinds against me. I can feel his solid dick against my back. I flick my hips against him, and he groans. “Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy. Show him how fucking sexy you are.” I tilt my head back, and Vittorio nips and sucks at my neck as I writhe against him. His speed picks up as he fucks into my back, and Matteo closes his eyes.
“Fucking look at her. Either you fucking watch or I’ll remove your fucking eyelids so you can’t look away.” Matteo’s gaze drifts back to ours; blood pours down his chin, his chest covered as it mixes with saliva and streams over his pecs. He tries to swallow, tries to breathe through his nose, panting and grunting as he chokes on the blood flooding his mouth.
“Oh, fuck Vittorio, there, right fucking there.” I gasp out as he catches my clit while thrusting another finger inside. I can feel the knuckles on each finger as he pushes them in and out of me. I wrap my arm around the back of his neck as I grind intohim. He pinches at my nipples, pulling and tugging at them, and my eyes roll.
