33. Nyah
NYAH
Dear Diary,
Tonight, I learned some families sign their names in ways that don’t involve ink.
Men filed out of the gym, and I fell in beside Dax. “I need to talk to you.”
He shot me a glance and shook his head ever so slightly.
I pressed my lips together and widened my eyes, trying to silently convey that no wasn’t an acceptable answer.
Virginia’s warnings had scared me. I didn’t want to be the reason Dax was hurt. Or worse, killed. I’d done all of this to keep him safe, and now he was walking right into the lion’s den willingly.
I didn’t know whether to be mad at him or kiss him.
We had just reached the door when Carlos’s hand wrapped around my wrist. “Not you, my future wife. You remain behind and say goodbye to all our guests. Don’t be rude.”
I blinked at him and ducked my head subserviently, knowing that was what was expected of me. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Guerra. Of course.”
I stared at Dax’s back as he walked out the doors, willing him not to turn back around, for him to let Carlos treat me like his property, even though his fingers flexed and curled into fists.
I breathed a sigh of relief when he disappeared down the hallway without looking my way.
Mr. MacGregor’s gaze was not as subtle as Dax’s though. MacGregor stopped in front of Carlos, but his attention was all for me. “I hope you and your fiancé will come stay with us in Scotland, Mrs. Guerra. I’d like to show you my home.”
I nodded and forced a smile for the big man whose words were all politeness and charm, but whose eyes held the promise of something darker.
I’d never seen anyone so openly unconcerned by Carlos.
Everyone in my father’s circles spoke of the Mafia king in hushed tones, like saying his name too loud might summon a demon.
We had existed only because Carlos allowed it, and I knew how much me marrying into the Guerras secured my family’s future.
Too bad they’d had to sacrifice me to do it.
But MacGregor had no respect for what was Carlos’s. That much was clear.
And Carlos knew it. I could feel it in the way he stiffened beside me. Hear it in the way Enzo spoke into his older brother’s ear, the words unclear but the tone telling me everything I needed to know about the two of them.
MacGregor had disrespected the Guerra throne. And I knew deep in my gut that Carlos would make him pay for it. Maybe not now. Or even next week.
But at some point, MacGregor would learn who to bow to.
Just like the rest of us had.
When everyone had left the room, I waited, eyes downcast, for Carlos to dismiss me.
He didn’t. He stared at me for the longest time. I knew it even though I didn’t lift my gaze from the polished tips of his shoes. The tension in the air radiated between us, and the silence drew out until he eventually murmured something to his brother, and Enzo left the two of us alone.
“Do you know what’s on the floor beneath these rooms, Nyah?” Carlos asked.
I paused for a second, wondering if it was a trick question. “No, sir. I don’t. I thought this was the lowest level of the house.”
“Then you don’t even know the house you live in. Come.”
He walked out of the room and through the laundry, down a hallway and to another set of stairs I had no idea existed because I had no reason to be down here, what with Virginia taking care of all my clothes.
The room was dark when we got to the bottom of the steps, and colder, the air changing noticeably, reminding me we were most definitely underground.
My heartrate picked up, and my footsteps got slower. The darkness crept in, reminding me of another time I’d been inside a fancy house with a room beneath the floors. My breath quickened, and I stopped dead, panic creeping up my throat.
Carlos flicked the light on, and for a second, pure relief rushed in, sweet and warm. Only to be replaced by a sinking feeling of dread. “What is this?”
Carlos leaned back on the wall. “The staff likes to call it my dungeon. All good castles should have one, don’t you think?”
The walls were lined with cages. Some small. Some big, like the one Dax had fought in at the warehouse the other night.
I stared at my future husband. “Why do you have a room full of cages?”
He wasn’t bothered by the question. “We hold women down here, if we aren’t ready to pass them on or auction them off.
” He shrugged. “And I’ve been known to keep a few of my enemies down here too.
” He pointed at a cage on the left. “This one is a favorite of mine. It’s the cage I held my third wife’s lover in. ”
He ran his fingers over the bars in an almost loving way.
It was utterly terrifying.
I’d seen psychotic men. My father was one, and my friend Violet’s men were all at least slightly unhinged.
But I’d never seen any of them look like Carlos did in that moment, talking about holding women in cages and torturing his wife’s lover like both were normal, everyday events that would take place before he had his morning coffee and carried on with his day.
I could practically feel the suffering in the room, despite it being empty. It hung in the dampness of the air, the screams silent now but somehow so loud at the same time.
His gaze ran over my body. “Take your clothes off, Nyah.”
I stared at him.
The look in his eyes said I could try to refuse but it would do me no good. That I could bend to his will and do as I was instructed.
Or that I would be forced to.
Slowly, with every muscle fiber in my body screaming that this was a bad idea, I removed garments until I was standing in nothing but my bra and panties.
I prayed he wouldn’t notice the slight swell of my belly that was so noticeable to me now, who knew every lump and bump and curve, but hoped like hell it wasn’t to anyone who didn’t.
He crossed the room slowly and fit his fingers into the elastic at the side of my hip. He pulled a knife from his pocket and flicked the blade open.
It sliced through the material like it was butter.
The shredded panties fell to my feet.
He dragged the backside of the knife across my hip and up my stomach, the point stopping at the middle part of my bra that separated my breasts.
Carlos’s knife made short work of that too. My breasts fell free, and he pushed the straps off my arms, leaving me completely naked and vulnerable.
All I could do was stand there.
There was no one to hear me scream, even if I’d tried. Lynx might have tried to help me, if he’d been here, but he wasn’t on duty until the late afternoon. Dax would have for sure, but he had no idea what was going on. If Luca had been here, he probably would have been on his father’s side.
Carlos leaned in, inhaling the scent of my hair and circling around me slowly.
“You smell so good, Nyah Matish.” His fingers trailed across my skin, along my lower back, then across the swell of my breasts as he made his way back to my front.
“I can’t wait to watch these tits bounce while you’re on my cock. ”
My skin crawled, and I fought the urge to run. I already knew I wouldn’t get far, so there was no point.
If Carlos wanted to degrade me like this, then he could.
He leaned in and licked my neck, until his mouth reached my ear. He paused there, breathing heavily, warm air misting over my lobe. “Do you think I enjoy watching you flirt with other men, Nyah?”
“I wasn’t—”
He pressed a finger to my lips, but it wasn’t a cute gesture. It was rough, his other fingers grasping my chin and digging in, his finger on my mouth bruising. “Shut up. I didn’t ask you to speak. You do enough of that.”
My chest rose and fell too fast, fear in my heart.
He knew about what had happened between me and Dax the night of the party.
Or the night at the warehouse. Or hell, maybe he’d just seen the way my entire body gravitated toward his every time we were in the same room, in a way that I couldn’t control.
That force had always been there between us, too strong to fight.
I’d known it from the first night I’d met Dax.
And I’d feel it ’til the day I died.
Which was starting to feel like it might be today. If it was, I couldn’t even bring myself to regret any of it. Because I’d had a man who loved me. Who’d worshipped my body and whose company I sought in every room.
Whose baby I carried now.
If I died here tonight, that would be my only regret. Taking this part of him to the grave with me.
Carlos stared down at me with more hate than lust in his eyes. “I have a question for you. Would you rather be my princess or MacGregor’s slut?”
A full-body tremble started in my knees and worked its way through my whole body.
I hoped he thought it was fear.
But it was actually relief. This was about MacGregor? Carlos had his jealous knickers in a knot over a man who I’d barely spoken with?
This likely had nothing to do with my polite responses to the Scottish man, and everything to do with the fact that Carlos felt disrespected by him.
It wasn’t me who needed punishing. It was MacGregor. But Carlos couldn’t do anything about that, at least not immediately, and so he was punishing me instead.
“Your princess,” I whispered, covering my breasts with my arms and giving him the only answer he wanted to hear.
He pushed my arms away, not letting me have any privacy. “That’s right. You’re mine, Nyah. But clearly others don’t respect that.”
I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. That I was sorry MacGregor hadn’t fallen to his knees and kissed his feet like he’d wanted him to?
“Get in the cage, Nyah.”
I looked at him sharply. “What? What for?”
His eyes darkened. “Because I told you to.”
I stared at him for the longest moment. I wanted to give him a mouthful of attitude. To ask if he was fucking serious or to tell him he could go to hell.
But the silent screams in the room got louder, until they were a cacophony of noise that warned of the danger I’d face if I didn’t do what Carlos said.
I got in a cage, barely tall enough for me to stand straight, barely long enough for me to take a couple of steps.
Carlos locked the cage behind me, the deadbolt sliding into place with what would have been a satisfying clunk if I hadn’t been on the wrong side of the metal bars.
I clutched them and pleaded with my eyes and with words. “Please, Mr. Guerra. I’m sorry for speaking to MacGregor. I was out of line. I know that now. Next time I will be completely silent.”
“Good. You’re learning already. Your mouth is only good wrapped around my cock. Do you understand me? You only speak if I say you can. And you never speak to one of my enemies.”
I nodded obediently, knowing full well that any other reaction would only result in this punishment taking longer. Even though I wanted to say what the fuck? How was I supposed to know he was psychotic enough to invite an enemy into his home? I’d assumed they were friends.
Apparently, I’d been wrong. Business contacts perhaps. But clearly not friends.
“Put your hands through the bars, Nyah.”
I did, just wanting whatever this was to be over. I let the tremble in my bones be visible and hoped it satisfied him that I now knew his rules. “Yes, sir.”
He grunted his approval and pulled off his tie, wrapping it around my wrists. “Silk,” he murmured, binding my arms in the soft material. Then he whispered, “Still bites when tightened.”
He pulled both ends of the tie, tightening the knot he’d made so viciously it cut into my skin.
I cried out, pain radiating up my arms, but he only smiled.
The door to the room opened, and Enzo walked in, an object in his hand my terrified mind didn’t want to comprehend.
But it did. It did so instantly I didn’t even care that I was standing in front of two men I didn’t know in nothing but my birthday suit.
I didn’t even wonder if the tattoo Dax had put on my pussy was visible, even though I’d let hair grow over it since Luca had seen me naked in his bed and pointed it out.
Enzo held a branding iron and a blowtorch.
He handed the iron to his brother, and Carlos looked at me.
I shook my head desperately. “No. Please.”
Carlos smiled at my fear. “You know what this is then? I’m surprised, a city girl like you.
We use these to mark what’s ours. What belongs to the Guerras.
” He held the branding iron up so I could see the end of it.
It was the Guerra name, written in a font that curled the ends of each letter just enough to make them fancy.
I didn’t want this but I couldn’t go anywhere, my bound hands and the cage preventing me from running.
Behind his brother’s back, Enzo’s gaze rolled over my body, sick and slow.
He wasn’t as handsome as his older brother.
Everything about Enzo was snakelike, from the slicked-back hair to the way his narrow shoulders didn’t quite fill out his suit jacket.
Carlos was tall and broad-shouldered, just like his son, and classically handsome, in a way nobody would be able to deny.
He’d clearly been the genetically blessed of the two of them.
Enzo fired up the blowtorch, and Carlos held the iron out to him to heat.
Meanwhile, Carlos turned his head to speak to me. “You don’t need to worry. We all have this mark. Anyone who’s ours does.
“Carlos, please,” I begged. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
Enzo hissed at me. “If you mean no disrespect, you’ll take this without making a sound, other than to thank us at the end. As of right now, you’re nothing but the slut daughter of Jeremiah Matish. After you take this mark, you’ll be a Guerra.”
I wanted to scream at them that I would never be a Guerra. That if I was anyone’s, I was Dax’s. But that first and foremost, I belonged to no one but myself.
They wanted to take that away.
I couldn’t let them.
I threw my head back and screamed.
Pulled at the binds that held my wrists.
Thrashed and fought and screamed until I was hoarse.
Neither of them cared.
Carlos tweaked my nipple with his free hand, squeezing it and proving to me once again that he could do what he liked, and that even when I screamed and railed against him, that there was no use.
“Don’t worry. This will heal fast. The scab will drop off before you walk down the aisle, wearing my brand on your chest proudly.”
“No!” I screamed, wrenching at my wrists again, though the pain in them begged me to stop. “I don’t want this! Please!”
“Hold still, Nyah,” Carlos said darkly. “Or this will hurt so much more than it has to.”
I knew he was right. That if I didn’t stand still it would be worse.
The fear in me disappeared. And all that was left was anger.
I let him see every ounce of it in my eyes as I stood there and glared at him.
The iron came down on the swell of my breast, the fiery heat blazing through my skin, burning my flesh, the smell hitting my nose sharp and tangy.
The pain was like nothing I’d ever felt before. An agony I wouldn’t have wished on my worst enemy.
When my vision flickered and I crashed into the bars, all I could think was the darkness was finally welcome.