Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi
Chapter 155 -

Chad.

Paul's dad's yacht was the best place we'd ever partied. Partly because it was large and luxurious with all the amenities we could think of. But mostly because Paul's dad kept it stocked with high-end liquor, and Paul kept it stocked with babes and roofies. And cocaine.

I did a snort off some blonde who was nearly bouncing out of her bikini bra. That and the Macallan scotch had me high and happy.

When Paul's brother, Ted, came up from the lower decks with a revolver, most of us were too drunk to even register there was a gun on deck.

The blonde I was snorting coke off of just giggled and pointed. "He's got a big gun."

"Not as big as mine, babe," I snickered, pulling her into my lap.

"Let's play Russian roulette," Ted slurred, setting the revolver down on a table.

"F*ck, I'm in," Paul said, shoving a redhead off his lap and taking a seat at the table. "What about you, Chad?"

I shrugged. "Sounds like fun." I smacked the blonde's ass to get her moving, then sat down at the table as well.

Ted dumped all but one bullet out of the gun, then spun the cylinder. "One wink for bullet in the chamber. Two winks for empty. Only pull the trigger if the chamber's empty."

"Sounds like a plan," Paul said. He looked at the cylinder as Ted pointed the revolver at him and winked twice.

Ted grinned and pulled the trigger. There was an empty "click."

Paul spun the gun then, and the barrel pointed at Ted. He picked it up and pointed it at his brother.

Ted gave two winks, and Paul pulled the trigger.

"Click" came the sound again.

The gun was spun again, and this time the barrel landed on me. I grinned as Ted picked up the gun and pointed it at me. "Come on, wink, motherf*cker," Ted prompted.

I laughed and looked down the barrel of the gun, then gave two winks.

The "click" made me jump. I liked the thrill of this game. It was making my d*ck hard. "Hey, babe, get over here and suck me." Bouncy blonde boobs eagerly came over and got under the table. I was rock hard in her mouth as the gun spun again.

A brunette came over, and I did a tequila shot out of her cleavage.

"Dude, it's your turn to shoot," Ted said exasperatedly.

The gun was pointing at Ted. I waved the brunette away and picked up the gun, pointing it at Ted.

Ted gave one wink, and I put the gun down without pulling the trigger.

"Whew! Almost got shot!" Ted laughed, motioning for a redhead to come suck his d*ck.

Paul picked up the revolver and spun the cylinder again. "Now that we found it, we gotta spin it around again," he explained.

"Yeah," Ted agreed. He downed a tumbler of scotch.

I was grunting and groaning as the blonde blew me better than I'd ever been blown in my life. I held out my own tumbler for a refill of the Macallan scotch, and the brunette from before filled it up.

Paul tapped a line of coke onto the table and took a long sniff. "D*mn, Rat always gets us the best stuff," he said, wiping his nose clean and wiping any coke particles off to rub on his gums.

"Oh yeah." Ted shoved the redhead's face down onto his c*ck so he was choking her, all the way down her throat.

I didn't have to take such extreme measures with my blonde. She was a certified S-L-U-T, and could have gobbled a cucumber if the need arose.

The gun was spun again, and this time landed on Paul. I picked it up and aimed it at him.

Paul winked twice, and I pulled the trigger with another "click."

We all laughed, enjoying the f*ck out of this game. Paul spun the gun. It landed on himself. "So, what, he picks?" I asked Ted.

"Nah, he puts it to his head and pulls the trigger. After looking inside, of course," Ted replied.

Paul blinked a few times, examining the gun. He closed one eye, then the other, trying to dispel the fog that was coming over him from the drugs and the booze. Finally, he just shrugged and put the gun to his temple, pulling the trigger.

"Click."

We laughed again as Paul put the gun back down. "Couldn't even tell if it was in there or not, could you?" Ted crowed, sloshing his drink as he gestured at the revolver. "Eh, I had a five in six chance," Paul said. He spun the gun.

It landed on me. I downed the rest of my scotch and prepared myself, groaning as I came down the blonde's throat.

Paul aimed the gun at me and waited for my winks.

The world was a bit tippy around me, and I honestly couldn't tell if there was a bullet in the chamber or not. But hey, five out of six odds, right?

I winked twice, grinning at Paul.

Paul pulled the trigger.

"BANG!!!"

My chair pitched backwards as the bullet ripped through my neck. The blonde screamed.

The last thing I remembered was that I couldn't feel my d*ck.

***

Neal.

The house was half rubble, a testament to the Michaelsons' long-standing rage at our family for what we'd done to Patrick and their father. It was our house, the hellhole where we'd grown up, and I for one would not have been disappointed if the Michaelson brothers had razed it to the ground.

Unfortunately, there was still enough of it left for Allegra to be kept prisoner in it. I stared down the scope of my sniper rifle, taking in how many guards there were. I'd spotted Xavier bumming a smoke off of one of the guards and considered shooting the little b*stard in the head, but I was afraid they'd retaliate in kind before I even knew where they were keeping Allegra.

"That's Xavier Michaelson," I said to one of Greg's men who was lying beside me in the dirt. "But I still haven't seen Andre."

"Our men are in position," Greg's man, Mattia, said to me. "Even if there is trouble, we outnumber them two to one."

"We think," I sighed. I kept my scope set on the house.

"We have used thermal imaging," Mattia added. "We know we outnumber them."

"Has your thermal imaging indicated where my sister might be?" I asked.

Mattia shook his head. "Only heat signatures. There are many people in the house, from top to basement. It would be difficult to say where they are holding Allegra."

I swore under my breath. "We storm the place, and she's going to be the first victim."

"Then might I make a suggestion?" Mattia inquired.

I turned to look at him. "I'm all ears."

"If you were to go down and turn yourself in, we would be able to track your heat signature with our equipment. I'm sure they will take you where they are holding Allegra," Mattia said.

That was the riskiest, worst possible idea I ever heard of. And it was the best we had. "Alright," I replied, setting my rifle down next to me. "But just remember, Greg doesn't get the other half unless Allegra and I come out alive." Mattia nodded. "So Greg has impressed upon us many times."

I stood slowly and picked my way through the woods, getting close to the Michaelson brothers' perimeter. The crunch of snow behind me stopped me, and I held up my hands. "Nikolai," a man with a heavy Russian accent said.

I turned very carefully and came face to barrel with a very large automatic weapon. "That's me. I'm here for my sister."

"You are not very smart," the Russian chuckled. "But you have come. This is something." The Russian got on his walkie-talkie and explained, in Russian, that he had found me.

Andre, for it could only be Andre, responded in the same language, telling the Russian to bring me in.

The Russian whistled, and three of his companions jogged over. They patted me down, confiscating a knife, a phone, and my backup revolver at my ankle. Then they marched me ahead of them towards the ruins of my former home. Xavier met us not far from the front door, grinning from ear to ear. "This is great," he said. "I can't believe you were so stupid as to come here alone, 'Neal.""

"Yeah, well, you said you'd kill my sister if I didn't, so I figured I'd better not bring anyone with me," I grumbled back.

Xavier chuckled. "Well, if Andre's in a good mood, maybe we'll let your sister go. Or maybe we'll kill you both. We'll see. I heard your friend James Valentino wouldn't send you any support. That's gotta sting." "Not as much as this." I headbutted Xavier in the face and broke his nose.

That earned me the butt of a rifle to the back of the head.

Xavier held his nose, blood dripping between his fingers. "You're going to regret that," he coughed. "Bring it on," I responded.

***

Chad.

"... What do you mean, impotent?" I could hear my father saying in between the beeps of machines around me. There was something down my throat, and I began choking.

Suddenly, there was a fleet of medical staff around me, pulling the tube out of my throat, checking my vitals.

I tried shoving them away, but for some reason, my arms wouldn't move. H*ll, I couldn't even feel them.

"It's okay, son. Try to relax," a doctor said, leaning over me as he shone a light in my eyes.

"I can't feel my arms," I told him, panic settling into my chest even though the doctor had told me to relax.

"No, no, I'm sure you can't," the doctor replied sadly. "We'll just... have a talk about that, okay?"

I turned my head. "Mom? Dad?"

My dad just shook his head and stormed out of the room. My mom was holding a lacy handkerchief to her lips, tears streaming out of her eyes. "Chad... may I call you Chad?" the doctor asked, drawing my attention back to him. "I'm afraid you were shot. The bullet damaged your spinal cord." "Damaged my... no." I began to panic again. "No. NO!"

"Yes, I'm afraid so," the doctor said. "For now, you're a quadriplegic. However, there are many therapies and treatments that will allow you to..." "Sh*t. F*ck. GODD*MN!!!" I howled, shaking my head vigorously.

"Why were you playing that game, Chad?" my mother whispered, coming beside me. I saw her put a hand on my wrist, but I couldn't feel it. "What were you thinking?"

Tears streamed down my cheeks. "I-I don't know. I..."

"Because he's a stupid f*cker," my father said, coming back into the room. "And now, we have a problem. We don't have an heir. And we won't have an heir."

"Why...?" I felt the blood drain from my face. "I can't-?"

The doctor winced. "I'm afraid not, Chad."

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the pillows. It was a lot to take in, and I just couldn't process it. One minute I'd been snorting coke out of a big-boobed blonde's belly button, the next... "There... is an option," my mother said softly, trying to mollify my father.

"What option?" my father grunted.

My mother took a deep, steadying breath.

"Alessandro."