Page 89 of Wretched Choices

These men are professional. They didn’t say a word. Probably so I couldn’t recognize them. I try to find something to help me, but I come up empty. I need to save my energy. If I focus on the journey, it will help me know where they’re taking me.

We drive maybe ten minutes before they turn right and then left. Another long drive. It could be an hour, two, or even minutes before they stop and park the van.

I can hear faint voices, but I can understand nothing. The language is not one I’m familiar with.

I try to move my hands from behind me to free myself, but I can’t. My hands are too tightly bound and the plastic around them is digging into my skin.

The voices are getting closer, and the door is opened. Hands grab me and drag me with cruelty out of the van.

My heels are scraping as I’m dragged into the unknown. I don’t fight. It’s useless, but if I keep their attention away from my feet, I can keep the heels and use them later as a weapon.

I try to stay aware of my surroundings, like the concrete under my feet, the smell of mud, and the stench of urine. Cold wind, and a sound like a train come from somewhere. The men still speak a language I don’t understand.

Before I can react, I’m being pushed, and I fall to my knees on the floor. I wince but stop when a man laughs.

“Your package,” a man with a heavy accent says. “Now you’re part of a deal.”

“I can see that. Well done.” My blood runs cold. That voice. I know that man. I hear the keyboard clicking. “Done. Itransferred half of it. You will get the other half when the rest of the job is done.”

“What about her?” the man with the accent asks.

The deep laugh comes from the bastard I know. “Oh, don’t worry about her. I will take care of her.”

I try to speak, but the gag in my mouth is preventing me, and all that comes out are my muffled screams.

A hand grabs me by my hair and I’m being dragged all over the floor. I can’t even fight. All I can do is close my eyes and pray. Pray that he doesn’t hurt me.

I can feel the bumps and holes on the floor as I’m being dragged. I can feel the tension behind my eyes, the prickling feeling behind them, and the need to cry. But I will not let him see that. I will stay strong. I will not let him get the satisfaction of my pain.

I breathe through my nose and try to calm myself until I’m being tossed onto a smelly mattress on the floor. I try to curl into myself. I need to protect my belly, but it’s no use because he takes the cover from my head and my eyes clash with those of the bastard. I come face to face with the man I tried to avoid for years.

Federico Sabatini.

There is too much hatred in his eyes, and I’m the one who is going to pay for it.

He hasn’t changed much. He’s older than when I last saw him, but there is no fire in his eyes like there was when we got engaged. That fire was mostly because he thought he would get my father’s fortune. But he lost that, and all he had planned disappeared into thin air.

“Surprise, princess. I guess you didn’t think you would ever see me again.” I glare at him because, being gagged, I can’t answer him.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. Someone needs to pay for ruining my plans. And I think the person is you.” He lowers himself to my eye level. “See, if I hurt you, two people will get hurt, or at least seen as weak because they couldn’t protect you. Two big mafia bosses couldn’t protect one woman.” He traces a rough finger on my lips. “But it’s your fault. You are the reason they have an alliance. So, I think it is fair for you to be their payment.”

I try to say something; I try to argue, but I can’t.

“Sorry, princess. You don’t deserve time to talk. This is my time.” With one hard push from him, I’m on my back. He grabs my calves and drags me forward. He leans toward me, and my eyes widen when he pushes my skirt a little up my thighs and tries to open my legs. With all the strength I have, I keep them together.

“I see you’re still a prude, but this time, there is no place you can run to.” Last time was before I ran away, after my father killed my mother and I was left alone. He came to see my father, who wasn’t home. He thought he could take advantage of me, but I ran away. It gave me the push I needed to escape.

“It’s only fair I get a taste of you, isn’t it?” I try to fight with my legs, but he is stronger and I’m bound. He opens my legs as much as he can. My skirt protects me a little. Still, I wish I wore pants this morning.

As Federico’s hands are bruising my skin and leaving marks, I try to think about how I can stop him. The only thing I think of is wetting myself. That will either disgust him or attract him.

I’m still thinking when I hear my skirt being ripped from me. I can see glee in his eyes. When his hand cups my sex, I make a decision and let go.

“What the fuck?” He jumps up. “You disgusting bitch. You did this on purpose.” The relief in me takes over the victory of notbeing raped, but that doesn’t last long as he stands and towers over me.

“You need to be taught a lesson.” He grabs my upper arms, raising me from the floor. I stumble before the first slap lands on my face. I wince at the pain. The second blow is right into my stomach, and it’s then that the horror takes over.

I try to breathe, but there is no air entering my lungs as he throws me on the floor and the kicks start.

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