Page 65 of Corrupting Lily

“As I said, string her up.” Gabbrio hastily grabs me under my arm, pulling me up as he drags me forward. My eyes dart toward a wall, onewith chains secured into the plaster and blood splatters decorating it. Beside us, against the same filthy wall, is a metal trolley with drawers, like the kind you would see in a garage. Or a horror movie.

“Her back to me,” Rocco orders Gabbrio, who pushes me against the wall before securing one and then the other wrist into the cufflinks hanging at the end of the chains. Being so short, I must stand on my tiptoes to avoid the cufflinks digging into my wrists.

Rocco walks toward me while Holly shouts for him to stop, followed shortly after by her scream. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the other man still there, pushing a long black object through the cage before she screams again. He is shocking her.

“Stop,” I plead, watching as she jerks against the tiny confines of her cage in pain.

“Don’t worry about her. Worry about you.” Rocco's presence beside me should elicit more fear, but the fact that I feel so numb to this situation is scarier than he is.

He opens the first drawer, which holds a variety of whips. Shit. I’ve been hit with a belt before, and that was bad. An object explicitly designed for that purpose will be ten times worse. I school my features as I drag my gaze up, meeting the eyes of the man smirking at me.

“Mmm, so many choices,” he drawls, returning his gaze to the drawer. I must not give him the satisfaction of getting a reaction from me. It’s a prize these kinds of people seek—the reward they try to extract for the punishment they levy.

I drop my gaze back to the drawer as he grips various handles to test their feel in his palm.

“This one.” He pulls his torture device of choice from the drawer, and my heart sinks. This is going to hurt. There are three thin leather strips with large knots at the ends. I suppose it's better than the other one in the drawer. That one has little spiked metal balls braided intothe material.

Rocco approaches me, his body inches from mine, and I feel him tug on the string holding my bikini top in place. He pulls it free and tosses it on the ground.

He closes the distance between us, his free hand cupping one of my breasts and squeezing firmly as he whispers into my ear.

“Don’t pass out,piccola puttana. When we are done here, I’ll treat you to a different kind of beating.” He grinds his crotch into my rear, the hard-on there making me gag.

“You bitch.” He must not like my reaction as he steps back, and the next thing I hear is the whooshing sound of the whip before it makes contact with my back. I bite down hard on my lip, drawing blood as pain shoots from the point of contact and flares out, making my eyes water.

“Stop!” I hear Holly shout again before the buzz of her getting shocked is drowned out by the pain of another lashing.

It stings so much I can barely breathe, and just that movement draws the pain out further. My chest presses against the bloody wall as if my body is trying to escape. But there is no escape. Not until the pain of the sixth one finally brings darkness with it. Darkness filled with the face of my beloved. Dominico.

Chapter 40

Dominico

It has been a week. A goddamn fucking week. Four of those days were spent in the hospital while they flushed the poison from my body that still lingers, making me feel weak and tired. It has been a week since my Lily, along with Holly, was taken from us. Just thinking of what might be happening to them, to her, my little flower, makes my stomach turn. What if they are hurting her? What if they are doing worse?

I had been tearing the city apart. My men had captured and tortured so many of our rival members who we thought might have information that I was losing count. My bloodied and split knuckles bear the proof of my rage. Rage thatmy wifehad been taken right in front of me.

I was supposed to protect her. And I let her get taken.

My fist meets the top of my desk with such force that it sends a crack down the middle. I almost want to smile. At least it signifies that my strength is returning. I was fortunate to be alive. A miracle, the doctors called it. The now-dead man who tampered with the bottleof whiskey miscalculated the dosage required to kill a man of my size and underestimated my will to live. Especially now that I have found someone worth living for. If it weren't for my sheer determination to find her and the person who took her, I would probably be six feet under by now.

It wasn’t hard to guess who was behind it. Rocco and some of his men had disappeared. Massimo Bianchi had wisely distanced himself from his brother's activities by issuing a public banishment notice, exiling Rocco and his associates from thefamigliaand the Three Families. Anyone who helps Rocco now would face the most severe consequence: death.

This meant Rocco had to rely on the other party I suspected was involved in this, Senator Johnathan Williams. Luckily, Lily had left me with some information that would resolve that situation and provide me with the leverage I needed to get her back. The USB stick, which I assumed was still hidden—or else Johnathan would probably not be as eager to get Lily back—was minutes away from being in our possession, thanks to an unlikely ally: Basilio’s sister, Francesca. She was friends with the cleaning crew authorized to clean all the apartments in the building—a building where she stayed, which was how she met Lily.

She offered one of the cleaners she trusted, a woman named Claire, a hundred grand and a job at North Side Gentlemen's Club. The woman urgently needed money as her mother was sick, a situation I would exploit.

“She’s got it. They are on their way over,” Nero says, walking into my office and looking as rough as I do. They had his woman. Though not official, everyone with eyes could tell that Holly was his. Perhaps this incident would prompt both of them to acknowledge their feelings.

“How are the funeral preparations going?” I ask, my mood becoming even more sour at the thought of the men we had lost on the yacht and their families. Ten of my men are dead. No one was spared, not even the captain and his crew. The state of the boat tells a story. Our men did not go down without a fight. Shots were exchanged, and the yacht needs extensive repairs. But that is nothing compared to the loss of life; some of whom had been with me since I was made Don all those years ago. So much to avenge. For now, I would ensure their families are well looked after.

“Everything is ready. The service will take place as scheduled at seven,” Nero answers, sitting opposite me and eyeing the crack in my desk but saying nothing. I heard he had destroyed his whole room yesterday, so there was nothing he could say to me.

Dante walks in, his usually jolly demeanor absent. He shouldered a heavy burden of guilt about what happened, as did the man beside him, Matteo. As Lily’s bodyguard, he had formed an attachment to her, one I allowed since it made his protection of her more personal. The fact that she was taken upset him and left him feeling he had failed, even though it was beyond his control. I had ordered them to remain on the boat, placing us in a vulnerable situation. It was my fault. I underestimated my foes, but it wouldn’t happen again.

Dante advises as he and Matteo sit beside Nero, “I’ve tripled security, and the cops on our payroll will be stationed near the church.”

Dante clears his throat, and I can see that he has something to say, something I won't like. “Spit it out,” I order, throwing back the last of the liquor in my glass; the burn as it travels down my throat is welcome.

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