Page 112 of The Mafia Heir's Obsession

Paddy O’Sullivan,or Piotyr as he calls himself, waits for me to pick myself up from the ground in the basement of the dive shop he dragged me into.

Blinking hard, I try not to cry, but he hit me so hard that my neck snapped back and I hit the cement floor of the basement.

Vision blurred from the impact, I stare at the inventory in the boxes—knives, wet suits, flippers, oxygen tanks.

Something makes me think other things might be hidden in the bottom of the boxes.

Not that I care. I just need… I need… I need a minute to gather myself, to figure a way out of the mess I got myself into when I walked out of the house.

I should have said no to Dad. Should have waited until Callahan got back. I should have called the number on the door for the outside guard to stand with me.

I’d like to think Dad would be worried, but I have to wonder if he’ll just be more annoyed that I didn’t get his package.

And Callahan…

Callahan probably isn’t even home yet.

I let out a shaky breath.

“Y’know, when I heard Murphy married a hot slut, I thought she’d be hotter. Then again…” He walks up to me and yanks my hair, snapping my neck back again, and his hot, sour breath dampens my skin. “Maybe you give good head. Or maybe you have a nice cunt. Which is it?”

He shoves his hand up the skirt of the baby doll and tries to jam fingers into me.

I scream and clamp my thighs shut, thanking God that I put underwear on, just an old pair of boy shorts, mainly to spite Callahan.

“Or maybe he just fucks other chicks. He does that. They follow him around. They pant and beg him to fuck them. Your daddy must have offered him something good to marry you.”

He digs his fingers into my thigh and pinches. I headbutt him, not caring that he rips hair from my scalp as I do so.

“Cunt!”

He punches me again, then shoves me across the room.

“I’m going to have fun fucking you and then fucking you up. I’ll ruin your mouth and cunt and ass, and you’ll beg for death.”

I grab a box as I struggle to sit up. “Is this what you do? Hurt women and kids? Cal told me you tried to kill his little brother. Not very manly,” I rasp, deliberately looking at his crotch, and through the pain that throbs in my face and the wet, warm blood trickling from my nose, I somehow manage to wrinkle it. “Then again, guys with tiny dicks tend to do shit like that. Gotta make up for it somehow.”

“That’s some mouth, bitch. It’s a wonder Murphy hasn’t already beaten you into submission. He likes his orders being followed.”

I don’t know where I am, other than on a street full of stores with no real traffic. I could be anywhere.

This asshole put a bag over my head after shoving me in the car.

Did Dad’s driver show up after I was taken?

“Did you take Nadia?”

He frowns. “Who?”

“The girl in Queens. There was a bomb…”

He grins and it’s ugly. “Oh, I had my men follow that idiot Murphy. Somehow, he didn’t get blown up. But I guess there’s something to be fucking said for the luck of the Irish.”

“Aren’t you Irish?”

He storms toward me and I shrink back, which pleases him. He leans down and pulls the top of my baby doll down to expose my breasts. “Those are pretty.”

He twists a nipple.

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