31. Dante #3
“No, sir,” I lied. “Jace has hated me since high school. He assumed I’d taken his sister’s virginity, and I encouraged the misunderstanding to break him. His hatred made him believe anything I said.”
Salvatore’s free hand moved lightning-fast, striking me across the face with enough force to split my lip.
“If I discover you’ve lied to me about this, I’ll have Raphael chained in Santino’s playroom by midnight.
And you know what Santino does to the pretty young ones.
How long do you think your brother would last before he begged for death? ”
The threat sliced through me with such brutality I nearly vomited.
I dropped to my knees before him, the ultimate gesture of submission.
If I had to give him a blow job to get out of the mess I had created, so be it.
It wouldn’t be the first time. “The Gennaro name commands respect because of your ruthlessness. I exist only to honor that legacy.”
“Your cleverness is both your greatest asset and your greatest liability,” he said. “Don’t let it make you careless. Remember what happened to the last employee who thought himself too smart for his own good.”
I suppressed a shudder, remembering the screams that had echoed through the basement for three days before merciful silence finally fell. “I won’t forget my place, Father.”
He forced me to stand. “See that you don’t. Between that little stunt with the boy and Shaw, you have a lot you need to make up for.” His thumb traced my split lip, smearing blood across my mouth in a gesture of ownership. “Luckily for you, Shaw seems to be far brighter than his so-called friend.”
The mention of Shaw’s name in Salvatore’s mouth was like hearing a death sentence. Questions burned on my tongue, but asking would only confirm what he suspected. Interest was vulnerability, and vulnerability was death in his world.
“I would be more upset if it weren’t for the fact I can understand your infatuation with the boy,” he continued.
“Oh?” I asked in a neutral tone. Remaining silent would also be to my detriment.
“Don’t misunderstand me.” His fingers slid down my throat, tracing a path to my hip where Shaw’s mark had been. “If you ever do something like that outside of these walls again, I won’t be so lenient with my punishment.”
He dug into the spot where I had claimed Shaw. “You’ll suffer far worse than the indignation of that pathetic excuse for an existence who was hauled out of here.”
I forced myself to remain still, fighting the instinct to flinch away from his touch. “And if I said it was my punishment to him for leaving in such a disgraceful manner yesterday and an incentive for him to return tonight?”
“Never again.” His hand slid up my torso with possessive familiarity before wrapping around my throat. He applied no pressure, but the weight alone conveyed that my next breath existed only at his pleasure. “Or do you need another reminder about what happens when you disobey your master?”
The memory of my last “reminder” flashed through my mind.
He’d subjected me to five days locked in total darkness, with only enough water to keep me alive in between beatings, while Raphael had no idea where I had disappeared to.
Salvatore would play me the security footage of my younger brother crying alone in his bedroom to drive the knife deeper into my wound.
“No, Father,” I demurred in genuine submission.
“Good boy.” He released my throat to pat my cheek with mock affection. “Oh, and Shaw has been warned as well.”
The casual delivery of those words made my heart seize. “I’m sure it will be sufficient,” I stated blandly. I needed to see Shaw, to verify he remained unchanged after whatever Salvatore had inflicted.
“Perhaps. But I will enjoy his punishment a great deal if he dares to disobey me.”
The threat hung in the air between us. Salvatore enjoyed his punishments. The more intimate and brutal, the better. I’d seen him break men with nothing but words and a knife that never touched skin. The thought of him turning those skills on Shaw made me sick.
My silence had stretched too long. I lowered my head. “As you say, Father.”
“You would do well to remember what happens when you displease me, boy. I have ways of hurting you that you can’t fathom.
And speaking of hurting you.” Salvatore’s gaze traveled down my naked body, stopping at the crescent of teeth marks on my inner thigh.
His touch was light at first, almost curious, before his nail dug into the tender flesh.
“Your Italian seems to think he has special privileges.”
I locked my knees to keep from flinching as he picked at one of the small scabs, fresh pain blooming.
“The client requested it to sell the possessive encounter.” It was foolish of me to assume Salvatore hadn’t noticed the bite mark on my skin after days without him bringing it up.
He always waited until the right moment.
“Bullshit.” He pressed harder, breaking open another scab to draw blood. “Lorenzo knows better. Tell me why I shouldn’t pull every one of his teeth from his pretty mouth in retribution.”
Terror hollowed out my chest, but I stayed steady. I appealed to Salvatore’s inner businessman. “He brings in substantial revenue. The client satisfaction surveys rate him second only to me. When he’s hired for his good looks, damaging him would hurt the quarterly profits.”
“Always thinking of the business. But what about the principle?” His fingers moved higher, trailing up my thigh with invasive familiarity. “He took a bite of what belongs to me.”
He shifted his weight, forcing my legs wider as he pressed harder into the mark. The pain blurred with my body’s trained physical reaction to touch, regardless of consent. Shame burned through me as Salvatore noticed my involuntary hardening.
“At least your flesh remembers its true owner,” he murmured, his hand continuing its violation. “Despite Lorenzo’s attempts to stake his claim.”
It was clear he was setting a trap. Any defense of Renato would reveal too much, so I opted for what he wanted to hear. “He was careless. It holds no significance beyond that.”
“I should punish him for his transgression.” His fingers returned to the bruised skin, pressing until I couldn’t hide my wince. “Maybe I’ll take you in front of him, so he understands who owns you. Would you enjoy that? Having your Italian watch while I fuck the loyalty back into you?”
Bile rose in my throat. The word “no” wasn’t allowed to be part of my vocabulary when speaking to him, so I had to open myself up to the revolting possibility of enduring another “training” session with him. “Whatever you think is best, Father. My loyalty is to you alone. He means nothing.”
“If I ever suspect he means anything to you beyond a business asset, I’ll make you watch while I flay the skin from his body. One inch at a time. I’ll wreck that beautiful face of his, regardless of how it affects our revenue.”
When I said nothing, Salvatore brought his bloodied fingers to his mouth from where he had picked my scabs.
He maintained eye contact as he sucked them clean, one by one.
“You taste like fear,” he murmured in a tone that made my skin crawl.
“It’s intoxicating. Almost as enjoyable as watching you pretend not to care. ”
His hand cupped my face in a grotesque parody of parental affection. “Clean yourself up. Your next client arrives soon, and I want you pristine.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Afterward, warn Lorenzo about how I’ll break him if he disobeys again and marks what’s mine. Make him understand the consequences.”
“I will ensure he understands, Father. It won’t happen again.”
“That’s my boy.” With a condescending pat on the cheek, he left me alone with blood on my thigh and the ghost of his touch on my skin.
I exhaled slowly, my face a mask that betrayed no relief at his departure.
The security cameras captured everything, and he’d undoubtedly reviewed the footage with predatory attention.
Despite his parting shot, the lack of severe punishment troubled me.
I had disobeyed his direct orders, assaulted a paying customer, risked him discovering I broke the rules by fucking outside of the brothel, and allowed Renato to mark what was Salvatore’s exclusive property.
But there was no physical or psychological torture, not to mention his standard threats to revoke my visits with my younger brother.
In my private bathroom, I removed the remaining accessories of my drag persona. Under the scalding spray of the shower, I scrubbed my skin, trying to erase Jace’s touch and Salvatore’s lingering possessiveness.
The water hit the bite mark on my inner thigh, stinging where Salvatore had picked away the scabs.
The pain sent an unexpected pulse of pleasure through me at the reminder of Renato.
I pressed against the spot under the guise of cleaning it, savoring the sensation despite the fear and revulsion that still clung to me from Salvatore’s warning and touch.
I knew I should stop whatever was happening with Renato. Cut him off completely. Keep him at the same professional distance I maintained with everyone else. It was the only way to protect him.
But I refused to surrender him to Salvatore’s wrath. My determination to protect him matched my resolve to shield Shaw from harm.
The realization was terrifying. I owned nothing, not even my own body. Everything I had belonged to Salvatore, to be used or destroyed at his whim. My greed for the two men, my desperate need to claim something as mine, was more dangerous than anything I’d done before.
I hoped my next client was in the mood for a rough fuck. The rage, humiliation, and fear building inside me demanded release. An outlet awaited through hurting someone who paid for the privilege, allowing me to feel in control when Salvatore had reminded me how powerless I was.