16. Dante
16
DANTE
Regret and guilt wash over me. I should’ve done something sooner.
I should’ve murdered Angelo Lombardi while I had the chance, should have stopped shielding Victoria from the kind of man I am. From knowing the truth about me.
Because this is worse than anything I’ve ever done to my targets.
This is, by far, worse than death.
I’m tied to a wooden chair, having been restrained after fighting free from Angelo’s men and taking two of the goons out in the effort. I didn’t plan on sitting through this. There’s no way I was going to just accept someone else leaving with my wife tonight, no matter what price they paid Angelo for the pleasure.
The bullet wound in my calf stings like a bitch, but I don’t let myself focus on the pain. I focus on the memory of each blow I landed before I was overpowered and restrained.
Before I was forced to become a member of the audience for this sick show.
Angelo will try and kill me after the auction—that’s a given. However, if I can create an opportunity for Victoria to make a run for the door, if I can give her a head start, she might stand a chance of escaping.
It’s the only play I have left.
Angelo’s men patted me down and took my gun away before we even got in his car. I’m unarmed and I’m furious at myself for not doing things differently. I never should have gotten in the fucking car, never should have let them take us to their turf.
I’ve failed Victoria. I don’t deserve her. Things never should have gotten to this point. She counted on me to protect her, not take advantage of her and allow myself to get caught up in a sexual fantasy—a romantic daydream—that I had no right to imagine.
Angelo and one of his men force Victoria on to the table and my skin crawls with revulsion as the men all but start to drool.
Some bald-headed motherfucker paws at her, pulling her to her knees before sliding his hands up her cropped shirt. He palms her breasts greedily, exposing her bra, and I barely resist the urge to scream and yell.
I could make all the noise I want, but Angelo would shut me up with a bullet before Victoria got the chance to run.
I try to breathe through my nose, my mouth, my fucking ears, but nothing settles me. My wife is being groped and fondled like a cheap doll. Baldy rubs a thumb over one of her nipples and starts to pull at the lace cup, working to free her tit.
That’s when my wife really loses her shit.
She rears back, kicking one leg out at the dude’s chest, nearly sending him and his chair toppling over. Victoria shoves herself backward to gain more space, but she’s only brought herself closer to the man seated behind her. He takes advantage, grabbing her by her biceps and yanking her into his chest.
The man she just ninja-kicked rises from his chair as the men laugh, murmuring about how feisty Victoria is, how fun it would be to break her.
Angelo stands to the side, not saying a word as he circles the table and studies the men and my wife. He knows he’s going to get big money for her. These men are fucking dogs, and they all have a fetish for unwilling women. Hell if I know what any of them do with their women when they’re done. Their victims probably end up in a ditch or at the bottom of the ocean. Victoria will become one more broken, used-up doll that they cast aside.
And who’s will even look for her besides her best friend?
I’ll be dead.
And so will she.
All of this shit—thanks to my brother—will be for nothing. He sealed more fates than his own with his idiocy. He’s already taken his only son down with him.
Now I’m next.
But I’ll be damned if I don’t make sure Victoria is taken care of first. I only have minutes until Angelo gets tired of this shit and starts the bidding.
“Spread her legs,” one of the fat fucks orders from his seat next to the bald asshole. “I want to see that pussy.”
Baldy and another idiot with a death wish do what he asks while Victoria flails on the table, fighting tooth and nail against her captors.
She’s trying.
My wife is trying so fucking hard not to become a victim. But Liam made her one the moment he announced their engagement. She became an irresistible target when I exchanged vows with her at the altar.
And I can’t do shit about it now.
The man that just ordered my wife’s cunt on a platter steps between the two men and reaches for her pants. He can’t get them all the way off, not with her legs spread and her body writhing in protest, but he’s determined to reveal everything he can.
With his knee, he lifts himself up against the edge of the table and that’s when I start jerking at the zip ties holding me to the chair. There’s nothing quite as motivating as the sickening feeling that I’m worthless as a man, that I have failed her completely, and that as punishment I’ll be forced to watch her be violated. Repeatedly.
Smirks and taunting smiles from the men seated at the table confirm what I already know.
They’re going to use and molest her and there’s fuck-all I can do about it.
The man climbing onto the table and fighting to strip my wife actually bends forward, putting his face near her pussy. A blood-curdling scream rips from Victoria’s chest. Her shriek sets every hair on my body on end.
With my feet, I press myself up just enough to slam the chair back into the hardwood floors. I have to break it. It’s the only option.
One of Angelo’s men shoves at my shoulder, trying to make me stop, but it’s halfhearted. He and his partner are both distracted, dialed in to what’s happening on the table. I keep slamming the chair down, over and over again, until I hear the unmistakable sound of wood splintering beneath me.
“Stop it, asshole,” the guard says, smacking my skull with the butt of his gun.
“ Stop! ” Victoria screeches.
I need to save her.
I need to get their filthy hands off her body.
You did this, Dante. You shouldn’t have listened to anything she said. You should’ve finished this already.
“I want to fuck her,” a male voice chimes, rising above the chaos of bodies in front of me. “See what I’d be paying for.”
“Gentlemen,” Angelo crows. “Release the girl. The bidding will now begin.”
“Not until we’ve been able to break a piece off,” another man states from deep within the throng. “Prove she’s worth it, Lombardi.”
“If you don’t think she’s worth your money, Miller, you are more than welcome to leave,” Angelo says, venom dripping from his voice.
“Feel free,” echoes a lanky man smoking a cigar. “One less man to bid against.”
No one leaves the table and Victoria is released while the men all settle in their seats. Every single pair of eyes are on her as she pulls her pants up from her knees and slides off the table to stand. I try to ignore the unmistakable tremor in her legs.
“The bidding starts at one million.”
What the fuck?
“Lombardi!” I bellow out, seething with unadulterated rage. “Don’t make me kill your friends now.”
A thick silence fills the room as the boss rounds the table, eyes pinned on me. The stupid fucker doesn’t heed my warning.
Of course he doesn’t. He wouldn’t.
Angelo always thinks he has the upper hand. He wants his money, wants every bit of value out of her he can get, and I wouldn’t put it past him to have some back-alley way to get control of her trust fund.
“Ah, yes, I can see that’s a low point to start. How about one-point-five?” His venomous hiss echoes through the room.
“One and half million,” someone calls out.
The bidding has started, and so has the countdown for my wife.
Victoria’s blue eyes land on me, full of worry and disgust. I try my best to keep my emotions in check, but this is serious. If she falls into the wrong hands… fuck knows what will happen to her.
I’ll be dead before the night is over if Angelo has any brains in his skull. And then there will be no one left with the capacity or desire to rescue Victoria.
“One point six,” another man counters.
“Two million.”
It keeps going. A slew of voices and numbers. I can’t distinguish them from each other as they all fade to the background while I stare at my wife, memorizing every little detail.
Her dark curls are a messy cloud around her face. That sassy button nose is flaring as she works to manage her breathing. Her eyes are the deep blue of a stormy ocean.
Victoria is doing her best to keep a straight face, a feat I’m failing to imitate. I’d count myself a lucky son of a bitch if Angelo killed me at this very moment, with her face being the last thing I see.
It would be more than I deserve.
I try to squeeze one hand through my zip ties, but the plastic digs into my flesh. These assholes cinched them as tight as they could and I’m losing feeling in my fingers.
“Three million.”
I swallow back the acid flooding my mouth and focus on freeing myself. The two men at my side don’t even bother to look at me, confident there’s nothing I can do.
Maybe that’s the real torture Angelo has planned for me—letting me try to escape while knowing I’ll never succeed.
Victoria slinks back from the table as the men call out their bids, shouting over each other. She makes her way towards me and my captors, but no one stops her approach.
Angelo can’t see anything but dollar signs as he tries to drive the price as high as he can. And his lackeys won’t dare to touch her without their boss’s permission.
Victoria stops directly in front of me and drops into a low squat, resting her hands on my knees to hold her balance. “I’ll be fine.”
No, princess. This isn’t a game.
I can’t say the words. I can’t risk making her doubt herself. If Victoria thinks she can pull a plan together, then I have to trust she’s capable of making it reality.
For Christ’s sake, she fucking shot Liam, someone she knew and trusted once upon a time.
Lord knows what she’ll do to someone she doesn’t have history with.
“First opportunity,” I mutter. “You remember?”
She bobs her head, not saying anything. Victoria just blinks back at me, her blue eyes softening to a lighter crystal shade. Seeing the effect I have on her, watching her draw comfort from me even when I’m bound and all but helpless, makes me want to tell her everything.
How much I care.
How much she means to me.
That I am in love with her.
But everything I want to say sounds like a goodbye, and I’m not at all ready to bid her farewell.
You might not get another chance.
“Three point one million.”
I grind my teeth and Victoria notices, smoothing her hands up and down my thighs. “Don’t,” she orders softly. “We’ve got this.”
We don’t.
We are so, so far from having this.
“Princess,” I choke out. “Promise me you’ll fight. Don’t waste any opportunity you get, not for me.”
“I can’t make that promise.”
I glower at her. “Don’t be reckless, Victoria. I won’t be around to save you.”
“You have to promise you will be.”
I’m not sure how I can possibly do that. Angelo is never going to let me live. It’s mob-shit 101. Eliminate any threat. I’m definitely a threat to Angelo. Negotiations are closed.
“Princess, listen,” I practically beg. “Don’t think about me. I need you to focus on your surroundings. Pay attention. Find a weapon and wait for the perfect opening. If you have to block shit out…”
If you’re getting raped and you need to shut down…
“I know how to play nice,” she whispers. “I did it with Liam.”
Yeah, but he was a weak little boy. These are grown men who’ve lived far different lives than the pampered one my nephew had. Who knows what twisted shit they’re into?
“Your only mission is to get out. Use the number…”
I’ve spent the last three days drilling Enzo’s number into her memory. She has strict instructions to call him if everything goes to shit so he can get her out of the country. He’s ready. Enzo knows he’s my Plan B.
“Yes,” she vows simply.
“Good girl.”
“ Sold! For three point two million.”
My eyes flick over Victoria’s head and Angelo begins clapping his hands, all of his attention centered on my wife.
“Here, girl,” he commands with an evil snarl. “I want you to meet your new daddy. ”
I drag my focus back to Victoria. I’m a fucking wreck, but she seems almost zen.
“Find a way,” she tells me, rising to her feet. Suddenly she’s leaning forward, slamming her lips to mine in a heartbreaking kiss.
My fingers clench, fighting the restraints. I can’t touch her. I can’t hold her. I can’t tell her everything will be okay because I don’t know how it possibly could be.
All I can do is savor this kiss.
Too soon, it’s over as she’s ripped away from me and she lets out a small gasp of shocked pain.
“ You stupid bitch ,” Angelo snarls in her face, knuckles whitening around her bicep. “You really want to disrespect me in my house?”
“Go fuck yourself,” I snarl back, pleased when he turns his scowl from Victoria to me. He may think it’s a killing look, but it isn’t.
It’s weak.
His eyes promise violence, retribution for my insolence, but Angelo Lombardi doesn’t scare me for my sake. No, what terrifies me is knowing what he plans to do with my wife.
“Get on with it,” Victoria chides, offering herself up as a distraction. “I just want to get away from you .”
“Don’t get too excited, bella ,” he cautions, lifting an eyebrow as he lets his gaze skim down her body. “You’re not going to your new owner just yet.” Before he can boast more about what he intends to do, our little huddle is interrupted.
“How much for the man?”
I can’t tell which asshole is asking, not with Angelo and Victoria blocking my view of the table.
Not that it matters.
“He’s not for sale,” Angelo answers stiffly.
“He’s the one you’ve been talking about?” the man presses on. “The one that belonged to the Portofino Giordanos?”
Angelo snaps his neck toward the table. “What do you want with him?”
“I have a few people I’d like handled. I could use?—”
“He’s not for sale.” Angelo yanks Victoria with him as he stalks back to his guests. “I have my own plans for the prick.”
“I have two million saying you don’t.”
Angelo freezes and a sliver of hope glimmers on the horizon. If Victoria and I are sold together, at least I’ll know where she is. I’ll have a chance at getting us both to safety.
“Perhaps another time,” Angelo allows, sounding calmer than he did a second ago. “I’m not done with him yet.”
Whatever the fuck that means.
All I know for sure is that my woman is about to be taken somewhere else—without me.