The Power of a Woman: A Mafia Erotic Romance (8 page)

He whipped me the following day until I bled. And the only food I’d been given was scraps from his plate as he fed me like a fucking stray dog. He fucked me every hour on the hour like clockwork, as if he’d scheduled his day around it. And he wouldn’t stop until I came. I didn’t want to, and fought it early in the day, but once I realized the sooner I came, the sooner it’d end, I stopped holding it back. I knew why he did it…I wasn’t stupid. Getting off while he fucked me was humiliating, but at some point, you just have to stop caring. It comes down to survival, and doing what you have to in order to make it out alive. Once he’d get me off, he’d relieve himself on whatever body part he wanted, and then he’d wash his rancid dick in my mouth.

But that wasn’t even the worst of it.

I would’ve rather taken the degrading fucking over the games he played. That night, he sat on the couch with a crossword puzzle while I remained leashed on the floor at his feet—only this time, he hadn’t used the leather collar like before. Instead, it was the kind you’d use when training a dog, the kind that zaps them when they misbehave. I made a promise to myself that if I ever owned a dog, I’d never use one of those on it. They should’ve been illegal. He asked me for the answers, and every time I got one wrong, he pressed the button on his remote that sent a jolt of electricity through me. That thing stung like hell and singed every nerve in my body. By the end, I hated puzzles of any kind. My body became numb and tingly, and not in the good way.

As I sat alone that night in the dark closet, trying to fall asleep, I plotted. Oh, how I plotted. He took this barter much further than I’d imagined. Which could only mean one thing—at the end of the week, he’d dispose of me. No fucking way would this guy let Matty off the hook. He’d kill me. I was sure of it. So, despite the sick, twisted things he did to me, I’d maintain my composure and study my surroundings, plotting my survival. Because I
would
survive. There was no way in hell I’d let this sadist take me out.

On Wednesday, he allowed me to bathe. And by bathe, I mean he put me in the shower and used the jet stream on the handheld sprayer and hosed me off like he was giving a dog a bath. Any excuse to treat me like a mangy pet, he’d take. The scorching spray stung my lacerations and burned my abrasions. But I couldn’t complain, considering it was either that or go on with his dried cum on my skin.

After my shower, he took a wet towel and flicked his arm, snapping it against my body a dozen or so times. He laughed each time I recoiled in agony. Just another glorious afternoon with Scarface the sadist.

He took it easy on me Thursday. And by easy, I mean he hadn’t tortured me as much as before. Instead, he spent the time fucking me twice as often—this time, not stopping once I came. He fucked me so much I was raw and sore, believing I wouldn’t be able to handle one more time.

Friday, while I knelt between his legs with his fat cock in my mouth, the intercom buzzed. Scarface ignored it and continued to fuck my mouth while stepping on my fingers with his steel-toed boots. It buzzed again—and again, he ignored it. That’s when his phone began to ring in his pocket. The fucker answered it without stopping his hateful fucking of my mouth, pulling me closer and shoving his cock to the back of my throat. I couldn’t hear anything he’d said over the rush of blood in my ears as I tried not to choke.

He threw the phone down and lifted my head by my hair. “Gotta go, little one, but I’ll be back. Duty calls.” And then he dragged me back to the spot in the corner of the living room where he enjoyed having me on display. It was the place he had kept me when he had to leave the condo for any period of time, using the excuse that he couldn’t trust me alone. Chains hung from the ceiling with cuffs at the end—two for my wrists and two for me feet. The ones for my arms hung down, allowing me to kneel on the floor, but still short enough to keep my torso upright. Once he had me locked in, he left, leaving me spread out, naked and bloodied, beaten and battered, with my arms above my head and my chafed knees spread wide beneath me on the floor. I couldn’t even close them. My head hung, not out of defeat, but out of exhaustion. He would never defeat me.

Never
.

I must’ve passed out, because when my eyes slowly opened as best as the swelling would allow, I saw Stefan, breathing heavily, sweating, hunched over, and holding his hair in his fists. He mumbled, “What the fuck? What the fuck? Oh,
shit
…what the fuck?”

He lifted his head and his eyes met mine from across the small space. In a quick second, he moved to his knees in front of me. His eyes were full of anguish, fear, pain, and a rage I had never seen before.

I opened my mouth, struggling to get the words out. “I’m sorry, Stefan. I’m so sorry.” Tears immediately ran from my eyes in streams down my face before falling from my chin. I had no idea what I apologized for, but I felt some deep need to say it. Maybe for the lies, the deceit…for going behind his back and allowing another man to touch me after telling him I was his. Whatever the reason, the agonizing remorse struck me hard and settled into my chest in the form of a broken heart.

Even though I was sure nothing coherent had come out, he shook his head, locking his despondent eyes with mine. “Don’t you dare fucking apologize to me. You hear me?”

The hot tears burned the lacerations as they soaked my face, but I couldn’t stop them. My mouth opened once more, but Stefan placed a tentative finger over my split lip, silencing my apologies on my tongue.

“
Tesoro
, what the hell happened?” he asked with strained words, his voice full of pain. Hearing my nickname cut me deep, and only forced my tears out faster.

“Barter,” I whispered as my vision blurred.

“Barter?” His voiced raised to a near roar. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Matty’s debt.”

“For your life? How did this happen? How did he get to you? I thought you were hiding out?” His frantic questions shot out without so much as a breath between them. I assumed he’d misunderstood what he’d walked in on, but I couldn’t find the words to correct him.

I shook my head and desperately tried to hold in the sobs that racked my beaten body. His arms went around my waist and he pulled me into him. That’s when I realized I had no longer been chained. I didn’t know when he released me, but at some point, Stefan had freed my arms and legs from the cuffs. Every part of my body tingled, burned, ached. There wasn’t a pain I hadn’t felt.

“I came here,” I finally managed to get out.

He pulled away and gawked at me with furious eyes. “By choice? You willingly came here? For what? Why?” Understanding crossed his face as he stared at me. “To be his whore?” Stefan stood up and began to pace in front of my crumpled body, pulling his hair taut with his fists. “I told you I’d protect you. I told you I would take care of everything. Why wouldn’t you let me? Why wouldn’t you let me keep you safe? Why didn’t you trust me enough to do that?”

My heart broke into a million pieces. Completely, utterly shattered. He thought I hadn’t trusted him. And with the secrets he’d kept from me, secrets about my brother’s debt, I
had
doubted him. But that didn’t mean I didn’t trust him. However, this had nothing to do with trust. This was survival. This was for my brother. Nothing about it had anything to do with Stefan or trust.

“How did you find me?” I asked in a weak voice.

“Zeke went MIA. My father is in Italy, taking care of business, and in his absence, the underboss is supposed to be in charge. When no one has been able to get ahold of him, I came to make sure nothing had happened. But now…now…I’ll make sure something
does
happen to him.”

“What do you mean?” My deprived brain couldn’t make sense of what he’d said.

Stefan turned to me, shoulders squared, feet apart beneath him. “He won’t live to tell of his mistakes. He won’t have the chance to beg for his life. I’ll make sure of it. No way in hell will I allow this bastard…this fucker to live another day.”

My strength decided to return, as best as it could. I managed to pull myself to my knees, causing Stefan to rush to me. He held my hand until I could stand on my own two feet, the aches of my injuries barely registering over the pain in my chest at seeing Stefan so distraught. I couldn’t imagine what he saw in front of him. I knew my body had been used, beaten, broken, and bloodied—the fucker used an air-pellet gun on my backside the day before. But I wasn’t about to hide from Stefan. These were my battle wounds. A battle I had not lost. A battle I would not back down from.

“No,” I said defiantly.

“No? You don’t have a choice in this, Jordana. This is
my
family.”

“And this is
my
fight!” I roared back hoarsely, finding more of my voice and strength.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Tesoro.” His words were soft and filled with agony.

“No. That’s where
you’re
wrong,
Stefan
.” I made sure to spew his name from my lips. Not out of hatred or even anger, but out of my own strong will. This was me, standing on my own two feet, doing what was needed of me to save my brother. Regardless of who my fight was against. “Your family knows we can’t come up with half a million plus the vig in a week. It was nothing more than a setup. Leaving my brother at the bottom of a river. If this is what I had to endure—if death is the price I’d have to pay—then it was all worth it to save Matty.”

“I told you I would protect you, regardless of what happened with the debt.”

“And what kind of person do you think I’ll be if I have to live without Matteo? Without my brother? Knowing
your
family is the cause of the missing piece in my life?”

“And what kind of life do you think you’ll lead after letting this sadist touch you? What kind of life do you think
we’ll
have after he’s tainted you with his sick need? I know you like to push me, to make me rough with you…but he goes beyond rough. His kind of pain isn’t for your pleasure—it’s only for his sick, twisted, sadistic gratification. What do you think that would do to us? Huh?” He lost his temper, yelling at me with fury lacing every deeply spoken word.

“Go to hell!” I didn’t need to depend on him. I was a strong, capable woman, able to stand on my own two feet and deal with matters myself. But the moment those three words came out, I realized how wrong I’d been. I’d allowed my stubbornness and arrogance to blind me against the reality of my situation. It didn’t matter how smart I was, or how conniving I could be, I didn’t stand a chance against a man like Zeke. I may not have needed Stefan to be strong, but having him beside me definitely fueled my fire. He gave me strength and power, more than I had on my own. Unfortunately, I hadn’t realized that soon enough.

He turned his body to fully face me. His face was red, eyes narrowed, and teeth bared, yet his voice was low, filled with pain and despair. “If by hell, you mean a place where I’m betrayed by the one that means more to me than life itself…a place where I can’t protect the one person I can’t live without… If by hell, you mean walking into this room and finding the one I’m meant to protect, bloody and chained from the ceiling, helpless and lifeless…then, I’m already there. Satan himself couldn’t cause me more pain than what I’m feeling right now.”

I’ve fought my entire life to not be an emotional female. To think with my brain, rationale, and strength…but in this moment, my heart led the way. With his words, he managed to spur life inside of me, healing me, despite the torments my body had suffered over the last few days. My brain might’ve registered the pain, but my heart came to life by the love expressed in his words, by the broken man in front of me. He did care—about
me
. Even though he’d never uttered those three little words, I didn’t need them. Because the truth—the brutal, raw, and unspoken truth—was evident in his eyes, in his unyielding stance. Stefan more than cared for me…

And that’s when it all became so clear to me. Stefan is powerful, dominant, strong beyond normal strength, yet I am his weakness. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I didn’t need to be strong where Stefan was concerned. I could be weak with love, without it making me pathetic. I could conquer the world, take on any enemy, bleed, and feel pain…but that didn’t mean I had to sacrifice the weak-in-the-knees emotions that Stefan delivered with one look, one touch, one word. We could be each other’s weaknesses, while still keeping each other strong.

“I want to do it,” I whispered, though it was loud enough for Stefan to hear.

His eyebrows narrowed and his fists clenched at his sides. “Do what?”

On sore, unsteady legs, I moved closer to him. Each step brought me more and more strength. More and more power. And more and more purpose. I stopped once we were mere inches apart, and touched his worried face, cradling his cheeks in my hands. “You want him gone. You want this bastard to pay the penance. Well, so do I. Let’s do this together. Let’s take him down, show him what it feels like to be on the other end of a burning match. Together. But I want to be the one to still his beating heart. He did this to me…
my
body. Let me have that peace.”