37. Olivia
Chapter thirty-seven
Olivia
I woke up in a clean bed. I am untied and alone. I feel around since my head is pounding, and opening my eyes seems impossible. There is no vomit, no cum, no blood… But there are rose petals? They feel like rose petals. I sit up with a fuzzy brain again and try to look around. I am wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a white shirt. Both are so big that I am swimming in them. Tony must have drugged me after his fun last night.
It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust. When everything finally clears up, I see a vase with at least a dozen red roses on the nightstand to my left. Scattered all over the bed and floor are red rose petals. Is this Tony? Why would he have his way with me last night to try to romance me today? Nothing is adding up.
I get out of bed and notice that I am not chained to anything. I can thank the Lord for that. I walk to the door and try to open it, but as I suspected, it is locked from the outside. I need time to think of a plan, and I do my best planning in the shower.
The water is extremely hot, which I like, and there is even a little bench for me to sit on. I let the water flow down my body, trying to wash away what happened with Tony and the nasty feeling I have from being in this place.
I hear the door open with a loud bang.
“Preciosa! Where are you? The boss wants to see you right now!” I hear Tony yelling, most likely still standing in the doorway. Groaning loudly, I turn off the water and grab my towel off the hook.
“I’ll be out in a second. I am getting dressed,” I yell back at him. You can hear heavy footsteps running, and the bathroom door slams open, shaking the walls. Tony looks me up and down with heat in his eyes, and my stomach turns. This man staring at me is the absolute most disgusting human being ever. His greasy, slicked-back black hair and his yellow-tinted teeth. He has a scar running down his left cheek. The only thing he has going for him is his muscles. The man is ripped. But that doesn’t fix the other problems there.
“Don’t mind me, Preciosa; I will just sit here and watch.” I roll my eyes and go back to the room to dry off. I get back into the sweats and T-shirt I woke up in since Tony sliced through my other clothes. I can feel Tony’s eyes on me the whole time, never leaving my tits or ass. Once I am dressed, I turn to Tony and stare at him. “Are we going or what?”
Tony stands quickly, opens the door, and walks me down a long, bright hallway. At least they don’t have me in the dungeon anymore. Once we reach the end of the hall, I am face to face with two massive, dark-colored oak doors. Tony knocks on the door and then pokes his head in slightly. He says something in Spanish that I didn't catch, opens the door wider and then ushers his hand for me to enter. Walking in, I take in the room. The walls are grey, and there are paintings on the wall; some are landscapes, and others are naked women—a red velvet couch to the right side of a giant oak desk. Lopez García sits in a large black leather chair behind the desk, smoking a cigar, the smell of it floating through the room.
Lopez Garía looks up from what looks like a folder on his desk and smiles at me. “Come in, Olivia. We have much to talk about. My grandson gives his regards.” He motions to the red velvet couch. I sit on the couch and get comfy, crossing my arms around my chest. If I am going to have a shit time here and most likely die, I might as well make myself comfy and give attitude until the bitter end.
“And who would your grandson be?”
I look at him with hatred as he laughs at me. His laugh was deep and loud, echoing off the walls.
“Alejandro Lopez García. But you may know him as Alex García.”
I try to keep my emotions neutral, but fail completely when my heart sinks into my stomach. Alex is his grandson? Does Alex know I'm here? Was he involved in this? This had to be a setup.
My head is swimming with questions.
“He called me this morning, demanding I let you go, that you are his.” He says matter-of-factly.
“So, why am I still here? Why didn’t you release me into his custody?” I say, undoing my arms from my chest and trying to make myself look as relaxed as possible. He doesn’t need to know my thoughts.
“Well, you see, sweet Olivia, I don’t answer to my grandson. I also don’t answer to your dad or brother, either. I have you here with me because you are an asset in helping me achieve what I want. And sweet girl, I always get what I want.” He smiles at me as he finishes his sentence.
“Ok, cool. So you don’t answer to anyone. Awesome. But what does my dad and brother have to do with the cartel? What do you want from them? From our phone call, you mentioned that my dad didn't agree to a deal. What deal?”
“I wanted to get my trade business going in New York. I know your family does business in New York, and your dad refused to work with me to grant access to the ports. They are under the Irish, and I am not trying to start a whole war.”
My head is swimming. I don’t understand. Under the Irish? What does that even mean? My confusion must have been written all over my face because another chuckle comes from Lopez García, and I can also hear Tony chuckling behind me.
“Sweet girl. You didn’t know your dad was in charge of the Irish mafia in New York?”
What on earth is this man talking about?
His laugh booms. “My sweet girl apparently doesn’t know what daddy and brother are doing behind her back.” He walks towards me, runs his knuckles down my face, and grabs my jaw hard to make me look up at him. I try to jerk out of his grip and push him away.
“Oh, come on, dear. You think I would leave you untied if I didn't feel confident handling you?” He grabbed my chin again, but it was harder, turning my head from side to side as if he were examining his product.
A soft hmmm comes from his voice, and then he grabs the collar of my shirt and rips it apart. My jaw dropped, and my face reddened because he made that look easy, and now I am completely exposed again.
He bends down and kisses my neck.
“STOP!” I yell and push him again.
“No.” He says back to me. I try to fight him off, and he snaps his fingers and steps back from me. Then, I am being lifted to stand in front of Tony, who spins me around and cuffs my wrists behind me.
Fucking great.
“Now, sweet girl, are you going to behave for me?” He says sweetly to me while tracing his fingers down my arm.
“Fuck you!” I spit at him.
Tony and Lopez García laugh when he grabs me by my arm and shoves me onto his desk.
“No, sweet Olivia. You see, I will be the one fucking you.” Lopez García whispers in my ear, then licks up my neck.
“Mmmm. Tony was right; you do taste good. Let’s see if you feel as good as he says you do, also.” He brings his hands to my front, one hand grabbing my breast and the other holding my pussy through my clothes. I wrapped my leg around him to get his knee to buckle and allow me to get the upper advantage, but when his knee buckled, he fell on top of me, crushing me into the desk more.
“Impatient, are we?” He growls in my ear. “Don’t worry, sweet girl. I got you. I will take care of all of your needs.”
He starts sliding his hand up my back and wraps his hand around the back of my neck, pushing my head into the desk so I stay in place as he undoes his belt. He rips it through the loops with a whoosh and then places it down on the desk next to my head. He undoes the button and zipper on his pants, lowering them down. Then, reaching for my hips with his free hand, he pulls down my sweatpants.
“Your ass is absolutely stunning.” He smacks my ass and sends a sting running up my spine, causing me to grunt in response.
“Oh, did you like that, sweet girl?” He asks while he rubs the red mark that I know is forming on my ass.
“No. I fucking didn’t. Let me go, you disgusting pervert!” I try to kick back but end up just kicking the air. I get another smack to the ass in the same spot as last time, so the sting is even worse. I can’t help the hiss in response. Before there is any time to think, he shoves into me.
“FUCK!” I scream. The pain erupts everywhere. I am not wet; there is no lube, and it feels like sandpaper scraping the inside of me. He keeps thrusting in and out of me, causing the dry friction to rub more. I think I am getting the equivalent of a rug burn in my pussy!