Chapter 39
Lily
I have no concept of time, with my bouts of unconsciousness stealing large chunks of it.
When I am awake, my whole body aches as if I have been hit by a truck.
I imagine that the way in which I am transported is the cause.
Sometimes, I am thrown carelessly over a shoulder, and the resulting rib bruising never subsides.
When I am placed back on the floor, in a truck, or on whatever dirty surface they put me on, it is with little regard for how hard my body hits it.
But the movement stopped a while ago, so I think I must finally be wherever we are supposed to be.
“Lily.” The sound of my name being whispered nearby finally forces my eyes open.
For a moment, I am disoriented, my heart rate escalating as I think I might be blind, only to realize it is a blindfold stealing my sight.
I try to move my arms, but they have fallen asleep due to my position.
Slowly, I roll over onto my back, wincing as my body communicates how abused it has been.
Just that small movement is exhausting, and I lie still for a moment, trying to regain my composure.
“Are you okay?” I try to answer the familiar voice, but all that escapes is a raspy noise. My throat is so dry that it feels like sandpaper.
I work on getting the blood flowing. My time in a cage when I was younger is coming in useful; this scenario is not as unusual as it should be.
I work the muscles in my arms until, slowly, the tingling in them intensifies.
Minutes pass until finally, I can move my hands and arms. Pulling the blindfold off takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness.
I push myself up, my back pressing against the cold metal poles, confirming that I am indeed in a cage, as I suspected.
Again, as if my life has not been filled with enough of this scenario.
A hand grabs my shoulder, and if my voice were not incapacitated due to lack of lubrication, I would have screamed.
“Shhh, calm down, it's me, Holly.” My heart expands with relief, realizing I am not alone. However, that feeling is short-lived. She is in as much danger as I am.
“Here, it’s the last bit.” She passes me a crumpled-up bottle, its weight telling me its contents are meagre. “The girl next to me, Violet, gave it to me before she passed out.”
I unscrew the lid and take the last sip of water, my mouth singing with joy. I'm immediately transported back to my final moments before I was taken. The island. The lagoon. The champagne. Dominico. My Dominico. Did they hurt him after they took me? Did they kill him?
“W-where a-are we?” I manage to croak, my throat screaming from this little bit of use.
“I don’t know. Violet is new too, so she doesn’t know anything.”
“Dominico,” I whisper, tears streaming down my face willy-nilly as if I can afford to lose the moisture.
“Shh, I’m sure he and the others are looking for us.” Holly's voice pitches at the end, indicating she is as worried as I am. She is usually so strong. If she is scared, then this is really bad.
“How long has it been? How are you here? You were on the yacht.” I have so many questions, but nothing makes sense.
“It's been a few days, but I’m not sure. I was knocked out and taken from the boat when Nero and Dante left after getting word that these fuckers were on the island. They left me with some of our guys, but whoever took us came with more firepower than we expected. We were caught off guard, Lily.”
Shit. This was planned. Someone knew where we were and was brazen enough to take advantage of our limited security on the island. It must have been an inside job then, as only the famiglia would know.
As my eyes adjust to the dark, I see we are in a large square room.
I shift and struggle onto my haunches, the cage not tall enough for standing.
A noise at the far side draws our attention as a door opens, light from the other side filtering in before a switch is flipped.
I fight to keep my eyes open as they get used to the blinding light.
Three men approach us, one of whom I recognize.
“Rocco?!” Holly gasps, but after Dominico told me and considering my recent thoughts about it being an inside job, I can't say I am all too surprised.
“What have you done?” I ask as he nears our cages.
His arrogant laugh echoes throughout the room as the two men beside him join in the laughter. One kneels down to look at the woman in the last cage.
“Who is this one, boss?” The man licks his lips lecherously as he palms his crotch. Disgusting.
“Stop looking at her like that.” My words earn me a sneer from the man, while Rocco quirks his brow and shakes his head slightly.
“Dominico has not trained you well. I will have to show you what talking back earns you.” He dips his head at the guy beside me, who approaches my cage and opens it. I don’t bother cowering. I have been in this situation before. It doesn’t help.
“You are a fearless little thing. Or is it stupidity? Perhaps you think, as Dominico’s wife, that you are invincible. Shall we put it to the test, piccola puttana ?”
Rocco grabs me by the arm, pulling me forward forcibly as my arm scrapes the cage frame, drawing blood that runs down to drip onto the floor. I am still in my bikini, leaving me feeling exposed as his eyes roam my body.
“Dominico is going to kill you.” Holly's threat elicits another chuckle from Rocco.
“If he survives. I hear the Don’s position is looking precarious.
” My heart constricts at this news. They knew he would drink the whiskey.
They must have ramped up the dose. At least he is alive, but for how long?
I can’t believe that after finally finding love, it will be ripped away from me like this. How can my life be so unfair?
“Let's string her up. I think it's time she was taught a lesson. Although by the looks of her,” he says, hunching down to touch some of the scars on my back, “someone has tried teaching her a lesson before. Perhaps this time it will take.”
“Boss, remember what he said. We are not to touch her.” The man beside Rocco barely finishes his sentence before Rocco is on him, gun to his head.
“Who do you work for, Gabbrio? Him or me?” he growls, his voice lethal.
“Y-you, boss. You.” Rocco nods, staring into Gabbrio’s eyes for a long time before pushing him away.
“As I said, string her up.” Gabbrio hastily grabs me under my arm, pulling me up as he drags me forward.
My eyes dart toward a wall, one with chains secured into the plaster and blood splatters decorating it.
Beside us, against the same filthy wall, is a metal trolley with drawers, like the kind you would see in a garage. Or a horror movie.
“Her back to me,” Rocco orders Gabbrio, who pushes me against the wall before securing one and then the other wrist into the cufflinks hanging at the end of the chains. Being so short, I must stand on my tiptoes to avoid the cufflinks digging into my wrists.
Rocco walks toward me while Holly shouts for him to stop, followed shortly after by her scream. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the other man still there, pushing a long black object through the cage before she screams again. He is shocking her.
“Stop,” I plead, watching as she jerks against the tiny confines of her cage in pain.
“Don’t worry about her. Worry about you.” Rocco's presence beside me should elicit more fear, but the fact that I feel so numb to this situation is scarier than he is.
He opens the first drawer, which holds a variety of whips. Shit. I’ve been hit with a belt before, and that was bad. An object explicitly designed for that purpose will be ten times worse. I school my features as I drag my gaze up, meeting the eyes of the man smirking at me.
“Mmm, so many choices,” he drawls, returning his gaze to the drawer. I must not give him the satisfaction of getting a reaction from me. It’s a prize these kinds of people seek—the reward they try to extract for the punishment they levy.
I drop my gaze back to the drawer as he grips various handles to test their feel in his palm.
“This one.” He pulls his torture device of choice from the drawer, and my heart sinks. This is going to hurt. There are three thin leather strips with large knots at the ends. I suppose it's better than the other one in the drawer. That one has little spiked metal balls braided into the material.
Rocco approaches me, his body inches from mine, and I feel him tug on the string holding my bikini top in place. He pulls it free and tosses it on the ground.
He closes the distance between us, his free hand cupping one of my breasts and squeezing firmly as he whispers into my ear.
“Don’t pass out, piccola puttana . When we are done here, I’ll treat you to a different kind of beating.” He grinds his crotch into my rear, the hard-on there making me gag.
“You bitch.” He must not like my reaction as he steps back, and the next thing I hear is the whooshing sound of the whip before it makes contact with my back. I bite down hard on my lip, drawing blood as pain shoots from the point of contact and flares out, making my eyes water.
“Stop!” I hear Holly shout again before the buzz of her getting shocked is drowned out by the pain of another lashing.
It stings so much I can barely breathe, and just that movement draws the pain out further.
My chest presses against the bloody wall as if my body is trying to escape.
But there is no escape. Not until the pain of the sixth one finally brings darkness with it.
Darkness filled with the face of my beloved. Dominico.