Chapter Thirty-Two
Olivia
M y heart rate spikes while the ropes on my arms pull my wrist. Someone just dumped a bucket of water on me, soaking me from head to toe.
“Wake up, Princess.” My father’s voice rings through my ears as I try to adjust my sleepy eyes.
“You bastard,” I yell.
“Ah, someone learned some colorful language while she was gone.”
I roll my eyes, “Is this where I say, ‘I am so sorry daddy. I will never say it again?’”
He chuckles, “She got a smart-ass mouth now too.”
He is not even worth a reply.
Stepping into me, he grabs my chin and forces me to look at him, “You listen to me, Olivia. I will make you regret ever leaving this place and living with him.” He jerks my chin, letting go of me and steps back. “You will marry Dante after Saturday’s auction. He will pay the money that night and you will be his. I expect you to be on your best behavior.”
I snarl.
“You will also tell me everything Ricci has planned for that night. I am not stupid, Olivia. I know he will show up. And we will take him and his men down.”
I stare into this demon of a man but keep my mouth shut.
He kneels in front of me, an evil smile on his face. “You will obey me, or I will have you tortured until you do. The choice is yours, Princess.”
I don’t utter a single word. My face, though, says everything I am thinking.
He stands and turns to his men, giving them a nod. “Fine. Be a bitch. I still get my payout either way.”
Right before he walks out the door he turns back and says, “Oh, Olivia. Your children will bring me even more money than you. So, I have told Dante to get you pregnant as soon as the auction is over Saturday night.”
The door shuts behind him and I try my best to fight back tears.
This man does not have a soul.
The two men who came in with my father both move toward me, and I tense up, “Where is Maxwell?”
Timothy, the one who Maxwell threatened yesterday, says, “Your father has him on an errand right now. So, we better make this quick.”
I swallow the puke that just invaded my mouth, “What are you going to do?”
Timothy and the other guy both smile at one another, “Whatever we want to.”
***
T HEY HAVE STRIPPED me naked, confiscated my gun, and soaked me from head to toe in water again.
One of them brought the water hose in the basement and has interrogated me. Every time I did not comply with an answer, he turns the water hose on full blast at my face, making it exceedingly hard to breathe.
Tears roll down my face, pleading for them to stop.
Thankfully, they have not tried to touch me. I have a feeling my father has left that to Dante.
It seems like hours have gone by now. My skin looks like a raisin, and I am shivering cold.
“Please stop.” I beg.
“Give us something to tell Ashton and we will.”
“I don’t know anything.”
The water hose runs full blast at my face again. Water burns my nose, my throat, and my lungs.
They turn the water off when Timothy’s phone rings. With intrigued looks from both, they step outside to answer it, thankfully, giving me time to recollect myself and my sanity.
Coming back in a moment later, holding a long metal stick and a metal box on the end, Timothy smirks at me, but his eyes dance with something evil. Something I want no part in participating with.
“What is that?” I ask hoarsely.
“Water is not working. Ashton says to try a harder approach.”
My eyes widen when they turn the metal box on.
It is a brander.
Stepping towards me, I tense up and try to get away, but the ropes around my wrists keeping me tied to the rafters above have me fully at these guys’ mercy.
“This will hurt. A lot,” the other guy chuckles.
“Please don’t,” my sobs are whimpers at this point.
“Tell us what Ricci has planned for Saturday, and we won't use it.”
I whisper, “I’ve done told you I don’t kno-. AHHHHHHH,” I scream out as the end of the brander touches my hip bone.
He pulls it off and I look down, noticing the red on my skin. It feels like fire is melting my skin away.
“We know you know something, Olivia. Just be a good girl and tell us.”
“NO!” I yell.
Timothy takes the brander out of the guy’s hand and holds it to my collar bone, pressing it to my skin harshly.
I shriek out in pain. He moves the branding stick to my breast, right above my nipple, and it feels like someone just lit a match to me.
“Man, this is turning me on,” Timothy states. He unbuttons his pants and has his length out in his hands, pumping it. Giving the brander back to the guy, he says, “Put one right around her pubic hair, I’ll see if I can hit it.”
My eyes widen, “AHHHHHH!!!” Tears roll down my cheeks while the brander makes contact with my pubic hair. It even burns the hair off.
Timothy stands in front of me, jacking himself off and it does not take more than a few seconds after the brander moves from me that his sperm hits my stomach above the spot the brand was.
“Shit. Better try again,” he cusses.
“Okay. Stop. I’ll tell you!” I cry out in tears.
“Ah, man. We were just getting started,” the other guy says.
Smiling at one another, they sit down the brander, and Timothy zips his pants back up. Grabbing his phone, I realize he has called my father when he says, “Sir. She is willing to talk.”