Luciano: Lovers-to-Enemies-to-Lovers Mafia Romance (Belles & Mobsters)
Luciano: Chapter 26

My head throbbed with pain, but I ignored it. I couldn’t afford to show any weakness. These people would exploit it.

Ella and I kept close to each other, her hand in mine. I refused to have us separated. No matter what. After we were adequately prepared for the auction, like we were some kind of animals, five guards surrounded us and ushered us back into the hallway. My heart thundered, recognizing every inch of it. But with five of them surrounding us, there was no room for escape. Even so, I refused to give up.

The hallway here was dark. Ella’s and my heels clicked against the stone floor. My heartbeat was frantic, and I didn’t have to ask my best friend to know hers was too. I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

Think about Matteo. Focus on opportunities to escape. Think about Matteo.

The hallway ended and large stairs led to the floor below.

“No matter what,” I uttered in a hushed voice, “don’t let go of my hand.”

With a jerky nod, we slowly descended the stairs, our fingers intertwined. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.

Our heels echoed through my grandpa Astor’s beach mansion. And that’s when I saw them. Waiting for us like some sacrificial lambs.

Benito King. Marco King.

Both men made of the same cloth. Cruelty was their middle name. They relished in it. The word was that both father and son had a thing for redheads. I should have left my hair brown.

Then a loud whistle travelled through the large foyer, and I realized there were about fifteen men there waiting for us.

How did Grandpa’s estate become this?

My eyes locked on the most dangerous man in the room, I ignored the rest of the crowd. I clenched my jaw tight, hearing some cruel words thrown our way.

The runaway bellas.

Whore bellas.

Vitale’s whore wife.

Ella’s whimpering registered through the ringing in my ears.

“Be strong,” I whispered, barely moving my lips. “Stay with me.”

All the while, my eyes remained on the two cruelest King members. The gleam in Benito King’s eyes didn’t bode well for me. The closer we got, the rowdier the crowd.

“Damn, for that piece of ass, I’m willing to forget she’s Vitale’s bitch.”

But I’m not. I’ll always be his.

The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them back. I had to keep a lid on my temper. Observe and wait. That was the only plan I had. If all failed, I’d run from them in plain sight. Let them shoot me. It was better to die than be subjected to their abuse.

Once at the bottom stair, the guards barked the order for us to stop.

Benito King strode over, his steps leisured. Like Ella and I were here of our own free will.

“Miss Romano,” he greeted me, ignoring Ella completely. His choice of greeting didn’t escape me. He still wanted goods, damaged or not. Fuck!

The urge to close my eyes was strong, but I fought it.

Show no weakness. Show no fear.

But the fact of the matter, I was scared shitless. It took all I got not to start shaking and whimpering like Ella. That’s when I saw him. Roberto standing behind Marco King. That fucking bastard!

Ella saw him at the same time because a shocked gasp escaped her. When we ran, I told her I thought it was him, but I had no proof and I hadn’t seen him since we got back. Apparently, he was still around.

I’ll add him to my ‘to kill’ list, I thought wryly.

Benito noticed my glare at Roberto and chuckled. “I see you met your cousin,” he gleamed. My eyes snapped to the old devil in confusion. His laughter filled the room. “Roberto Romano is your cousin.” My jaw dropped onto the ground. That one I would have never guessed. “He’s Alphonso’s son.”

Ella and I shared a desperate look. Roberto Romano would continue the Romano legacy. We didn’t kill them all. Would he go after Matteo?

Benito’s eyes returned to me and roamed over my body with appreciation and cruelty.

“You clean up nice, Miss Romano. You will indeed make a lovely bride. A queen fit for the king.” My eyes darted to his son who was right behind him. These two were crazy. Marco was no king, and I would never be his queen. “What do you think, son?”

“Redhead beauty and enormous fortune. What is there to say no to?” Marco chuckled like he just said the funniest joke. Except nobody but him was laughing.

Fucking idiot, if he thought he’d ever get his dirty fingers on my fortune. It was long gone. He must have thought me an airhead, stupid little girl. Let them think that though. And when they least expect it, I would strike.

Benito King wrapped his disgusting hand around my waist and turned around to stare at the crowd. Thank God he was on my right side, so I still kept Ella on my left.

“It is unfortunate that Alphonso Romano lost his life. As you all know, the beginning price for Miss Romano was set at a million dollars.”

I gasped at the stupid amount of money. These men were idiots.

Please don’t bid.

Maybe if nobody bid on us, we could escape the clutches of these two lunatics. My heart immediately sank as a hand went up. Then another. And another.

Two million. Three million. Four million

Benito King chuckled. “I knew you’d be the hit.”

“Ten million,” someone shouted.

Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen.

Then it finally stopped.

“You have superseded the price of the last four auctions combined,” Marco bragged. “You were worth the wait.”

Ella and I shared a glance. I could sense desperation rising in her, just as I could feel my own.

“Fifteen million,” Benito announced. “I have decided to make Miss Romano my bride.”

“What?” Marco hissed low, so nobody else could hear him. It didn’t matter though, because his fury was written all over his face.

“I thought you were married already,” the words escaped me.

“I have a mistress, but she won’t interfere.” He chuckled like he just said the most entertaining joke. “Your husband and son, on the other hand. We will have to take care of that.” Then he chuckled, displaying his yellow teeth. “Roberto will take care of that, won’t you?”

I kept my face stoic. I couldn’t show any emotions to these people. I knew men like Benito. They relished in destroying what people loved. Just like my grandmother. Just like my uncle.

I have to kill Roberto. It finally made sense why I saw Roberto in my mom’s dressing room backstage alongside my uncle.

My lips pressed tightly together, I held his gaze. He wanted to see me react. Well, he had another thing coming. I wished he’d hold his breath waiting for my reaction. My back stiff, I refused to even blink.

He finally looked away, bored expression on his face as his eyes shifted to Ella.

“Now what to do with your friend,” he pondered although the damn bastard already knew. He kept waiting, hoping I’d say something. I squeezed Ella’s hand, biting my tongue.

Do. Not. Show. Any. Emotion.

Just like my grandmother, he would destroy what I loved and cared about.

“She can be mine and my son’s courtesan.” The greedy bastard thought he won. “What do you say, Marco?”

“What the fuck ever,” he muttered. “How about Grace Romano to be my courtesan? She was supposed to be my bride.”

But Daddy got greedy. The pathetic loser should learn to go get himself a girlfriend the old fashioned way. And his father should be executed. On second thought, every single man in this room should be executed.

Theatrically, Benito King addressed the crowd bowing down. “And this concludes Belles for the evening.” Disappointing grunts echoed through my grandfather’s home.

“This is bullshit, Benito!” One of the mobsters complained. “You had us come in the dead of the night just to witness you getting the Romano bride.”

“You bid thirteen million, right?” Marco interjected.

“I did.” The man puffed his chest when in fact he should probably hide somewhere for being so stupid to offer such a ridicules amount of money for a woman.

These men were pathetic, every single one of them.

“Well, considering my father’s short attention span,” Marco continued, “you can have her next. For half that price.”

The room broke out into laughter at my expense.

“How about a quarter of that price?” he negotiated. “After Benito is done with her, she’ll be broken. I just want to dip into Romano pussy before my life is over. Obviously, there won’t be another one in my lifetime.”

Another rowdy laughter.

The blind rage shot through me, and before I knew what I was doing, I found myself next to the man and slapped him hard across the face. The smack vibrated through the room and not a single peep sounded. Or maybe I couldn’t hear it because blood pumped through my veins like a damn rafting river.

The mobster’s hand snaked around my neck, clutching, blocking my airway while I struggled for oxygen. My hands clawed at his hand but he was too strong.

“Enough!” Benito’s voice vibrated through the room like a cannon. “Do not damage my property.”

The mobster’s hands instantly let go and I gasped for air. Kill them. It was the only thought that echoed. Kill them all.

“Guard, escort the two women back to their room,” Benito’s voice penetrated my brain. “The other is damaged goods. She can be part of one of my brothels.”

Over my dead body, Benito King. The fury was an ugly beast inside me, but I let it ignite, let it spread.

With Ella’s hand clenched in mine, we climbed the stairs, one heavy step after another. The beautiful gowns we wore hid the ugliness of the situation. It fit the mobster world though. They hid their ugliness with flash and glamor but underneath it all, these men were rotten.

I glanced behind me and noted only one guard accompanied us. My neck hurt from the earlier encounter, but I ignored it. It wasn’t time to be feeling pain. This could be our chance at escape. We had to take it. It might be our only chance.

I glanced at Ella and mouthed silently. “Follow my lead.”

We kept walking, a few more steps and we’d be at the top. I knew our room, our cell, was on the left, but I feigned confusion and took a right. The guard’s hand wrapped around my wrist.

“This way.”

And I let my body instinctively apply the years of self-defense classes. I twisted my body inward and gripped my hands on his forearms with all the strength I could muster.

To stay alive. To see my son. To see my husband.

The sound of the bone snapping rose bile in my throat, but I ignored it. His wail sounded off, and I knew there were more guards after us. I kicked him in the balls and shoved him down the marble steps, sending him off tumbling.

I didn’t stay to watch him fall. I grabbed Ella’s hand and headed for the secret passage.

“Run, run,” I muttered to myself.

“Where?” I ignored her question as we came to the end of the hallway, faced by the stone wall. “It is a dead end.”

My hands frantically palmed the rough surface of the old tower, looking for the ledge.

“C’mon,” I muttered. “Please, c’mon.”

The rough stone cut into my soft palm, but I ignored it. That pain was nothing compared to what Benito King would have in store for us. We had to run.

“Here it is,” I whispered victoriously. I pulled the ledge and the wall shifted.

“What the-”

I quickly pulled her inside the wooden landing, and pressed the ledge on the inside and watched the wall shift back to its place.

“How did you know about this?” Ella questioned in a hushed tone.

“This was my Grandfather Astor’s place,” I whispered my response. “Be careful down the stairs.”

I kicked off my heels, and Ella did the same. In silence, we took the ladder, spiral staircase, lowering ourselves one at a time. The second we were both on the ground floor, I took her hand, and we squeezed through the small wooden door which led us onto the sandy path.

The cool, ocean air hit my face, the smell of the salt tingling my nostrils.

Freedom. It had never tasted so good. And Ella and I had been caged birds quite a few times. Sharing a glance, we both lifted our long gowns and started running.

The cool air burned my lungs, the sensation welcomed. The moon was full, lighting out way down the beach. With heavy footsteps, we kicked the sand with each stride.

Run. Don’t stop. Run.

Our breathing quickly got labored, our heartbeat raced in fear and exercise. The crashing of the waves mixed with distant voices. But it was hard to tell… were they just innocent passersby or enemies hunting us.

I risked a glance over my shoulders.

“Fuck,” I muttered. Roberto was on our tail, along with the guard that gawked at us in the room while we were getting changed. More men ran behind them, the whole mobster squad eager to get their hands on their prize.

Ella glanced behind too and her step tripped over the gowns, having her falling down onto her knees, sand burrowing her kneecaps.

I quickly pulled her up, both of us losing precious time.

“Run, Ella.”

My gown was too heavy. I should have kicked it off me before we stepped onto the sand. It was too late. We just had to keep our pace for another two miles.

We can do this.

My breathing labored, but the adrenaline kept me going. Ella wheezed, struggling to catch her breath. I kept pulling her along.

“We are almost there,” I breathed hard. “Keep running.”

She wasn’t accustomed to running. I didn’t particularly enjoy it either, but I had never been so glad that I made myself jog for the past twelve months.

Sweat trickled down my back, and no amount of cool breeze from the ocean could soothe this heat. My grip loosened and my long gown dragged on the sand. Before I could fist it and raise it above my ankles, I stepped on the hem of the dress and in slow motion watched as the world tumbled in front of my eyes.

“Don’t stop, Ella,” I yelled. “Run.”

“No.”

“Run,” I screamed. “Go get help.” I scrambled to get on my feet, painfully aware of Roberto gaining the distance. “Run, Ella.”

A sob escaped her. “I’ll get help, I promise.”

She kicked her feet into a fast pace and resumed running.

“This dress,” I muttered, struggling with its weight, lifting it up and starting running. Roberto was almost at my back, the awareness tingling on my neck. And not the good kind.

Please, God. Don’t let them get me.

No sooner had the thought left me, I felt man’s hand grab my dress and pull me back. The sudden motion had me losing my balance and falling flat onto my back. The impact took my breath away, causing stars to swirl in my vision.

“Fucking bitch,” he muttered breathlessly, his knee pressing on my chest.

I couldn’t breathe, the heavy weight of him pressing down onto my chest.

“Let go of me,” I screamed, thrashing under his weight. His fist connected with my face, causing stars and pain to burst behind my eyelids.

“Such a little princess,” he growled, his knees forcing my legs apart. “You think you are so much better.”

His hand grabbed my pussy through my dress and sheer terror shot through me. “What are you doing? You are my cousin.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed on a growl, his face twisted with rage.

“Don’t touch me,” I yelped, my voice rasped from shrieks, burning my throat. “Stop!”

I screamed and cried, shaking my head. He leaned over, his strong frame keeping me in place, as his knees nudged my legs further apart, shoving his hand up my dress.

“I’m going to have so much fun fucking you,” he said, licking my ear.

“We are related by blood,” I cried. What was wrong with this guy? “Others are coming.”

I attempted to use any excuse to get him to stop.

His evil, ugly laugh echoed through my ears. “I sent them all in the opposite direction. I’ll fuck every hole, just like the puttana that you are.”

I spit into his face. He slapped my other cheek, ringing in my ears, making it hard to focus. His big hand grabbed my pussy, yanking on my panties.

Roberto Romano is crazy. A sick psychopath. How could he even contemplate this? It was a whole different type of twisted, it made bile rise in my throat.

Tears burned in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not for this miserable loser. Disgust was thick in my stomach and despite pain throbbing through every single inch of my body, I kept fighting him.

Warm sticky liquid trickled down my nose. Blood, I realized. The sound of my shredding panties cut through the night, and I cried out. Then I shrieked at the top of my lungs as tears poured down my face. I lost the battle.

While holding me in place, my back down against the sand, he used his other hand to unbuckle himself and freed his cock.

“Nooooo,” I screamed. “Noooo!”

“Stay still, bitch,” he growled, “Or I’ll fuck your ass raw.”

I kept kicking, hard and relentless. I didn’t care if I came out of it black and blue. I scratched and bit, screamed and thrashed.

Just as I thought I had lost, his whole body lifted off me. I blinked my eyes, watching him dangle up in the air in confusion.

“You are dead!” My husband’s voice was a dark promise, a menacing growl.