Breaking Lucia by Raissa Donovan
Angelo
Lucia is pretty, I’ll give her that. More than pretty. The photos didn’t do her justice, even with her dressed-down look. She thought she’d be able to disguise herself with the boyish clothes, but her face stands out. The plush lips, the bright green eyes, the way tendrils of her dark hair fall around her oval face—it’s all gorgeous in a way that can’t be hidden.
I keep my arm around her in the back seat of the car, forcing her to sit pressed against my side. She’s glaring, like I give two shits about how angry she is.
“My father will have you killed,” she threatens, and it’s kind of cute how she thinks that might sway us.
We’re already prepared for that possibility. If we weren’t, we wouldn’t have kidnapped Giorgis Bellini’s oldest daughter, his pride and joy. Or so they say; I’m still not convinced that fucker cares about anything except money and power.
“He’s gonna try,” I answer, and I run the barrel of my gun along her jaw. She tenses deliciously, and there’s actual fear in her eyes. Good. I’m still smarting over her little kick, and I’m going to get my payback ten-fold. “How much do you think he’s going to pay for you? Half a million? A million?”
We don’t actually care about the cash, but she doesn’t need to know that yet.
In the driver’s seat, Saint laughs, and I meet his eyes through the rearview mirror. “Don’t mess her up too much, or she won’t even be worth ten bucks.”
Lucia shudders and curls her shoulders. “You can’t touch me,” she says, and that just makes me laugh.
“Can’t touch you? Princess, you don’t make the rules here.” I take the gun into my other hand, the one around her shoulder, and casually leave it pointing down. The safety’s on, but the threat is still there.
With my other hand now free, I start fondling her. I start with her face, tracing the line of her cheek with the backs of my fingers, then down her neck. I can feel her vibrating with anger—or fear—but she doesn’t pull away. The large sweater she’s wearing gets in the way, but it’s too big for her. I tug down one sleeve to expose her shoulder. She’s only wearing a tank top underneath, the strap so thin I easily rip it.
“Don’t,” she demands, biting her lip as soon as the word is out.
The aborted begging pleases me though. “Go on,” I whisper into her ear. “Tell me again what I can’t do. Tell me to stop.”
She sets her jaw stubbornly and shakes her head. Apparently she’s a feisty one. That’s very, very good. I don’t like them passive, not like Saint does.
I rip the other strap too, then reach under the sweater to pull the tank top down. I take that opportunity to run my hand over her soft stomach and to her breasts. The bra feels lacy, something a woman might wear to show off over preferring comfort.
“Were you running away to meet your boyfriend? Is that why you’ve got the sexy bra?”
Her eyebrows narrow at me. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Of course she doesn’t. I’ve heard of how closely Bellini has her watched. She wouldn’t have an opportunity to meet men. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got a tight, virgin cunt.
My cock throbs at that thought. I can already imagine spreading her legs wide while she begs. She’ll be a nice squeeze either way, her body so much smaller than mine. I’ll enjoy having that defiant glare aimed at me while her pussy tightens around my cock.
Lucia tries to pull away from me, breaking me out of my fantasies. Where she thinks she can go, I have no idea, but it pisses me off and excites me in turn. I pull her in even closer and squeeze one of her breasts with one hand, the other pressing the cool metal of the gun closer to her skin. I can feel the nipple pebbling even through the bra.
“You hear that, Saint? No boyfriend. Are you untouched, Princess? Trying to preserve yourself for your future husband?”
Her reaction is surprisingly strong. “I’m not getting married!”
“Jesus, what are you doing back there?” Saint looks over his shoulder. “Damn, you can’t wait until we’re back?”
“Eyes on the road!” I bark in annoyance. Saint’s got a bad habit of getting distracted when he drives. He hasn’t caused an accident—yet—but it’s been a near thing a few times. Normally I’d drive, but I hadn’t been able to pass up the opportunity to play with Lucia a bit.
She’s got her chin high, and her mouth set in a deep frown, trying desperately hard to pretend my thumb stroking her nipple isn’t bothering her. It’s adorable. I push my fingers past the bra fabric so I can fondle her breast properly.
Her thighs tremble, but she keeps her gaze straight ahead.
“What’s the matter? You don’t like it?” I give that hard little nub a squeeze, and I get a cute little squeak out of her.
“No, I don’t like it,” she says, trying to cling to a haughtiness she can’t possibly be feeling while she’s suffering through my touches. “But you’re going to keep doing it anyway. Well, go ahead. Last guy my Daddy caught trying to size me up got his eye gouged out. Go on, find out what he does to people who touch me.”
“If he’s going to have me killed—” and fuck, the anger comes through in my voice, “then I might as well go all the way.”
“There’s a difference between being killed and being slaughtered,” she retorts. “If you go all the way, he’ll torture you before he kills you.”
I know exactly what Giorgis Bellini is capable of. He’s one of those men who thinks he’s owed the world and will trample over everybody else to get what he wants. Well, I’m not intimidated by that shit. I’ve killed enough men over the past ten years, and I’ve dealt with men more terrifying than him.
Of course, it was never personal before. Bellini ruined my life, and I’ve got no qualms about doing whatever it takes to ruin his.
So having a bit of fun with his daughter before I return her? Ruining her completely, so she can’t ever be the same again? Yeah, I’m down for that. Fuck Giorgis Bellini, and fuck his entire family.
I let go of Lucia’s breast and move my hand down to the buttons on her jeans. She tenses completely under my arm as I slowly unbutton and unzip the pants, revealing a pair of lacy black panties. They match the bra she’s wearing.
“Naughty, naughty.” I stick my fingers in past the panties. Her pubes are definitely trimmed, judging from how little hair I’m feeling. Just a demure little triangle in the middle. “Who are you trying to impress with these panties?”
“Nobody. I buy cute clothes for myself.”
She squeezes her thighs together, as if that’s going to keep my fingers out. It just makes me all the more eager to get in there.
I slide my fingers farther, past her clit—I don’t miss how she shudders—and get between her folds. To my surprise, she’s already wet.
“Aw, Princess, are you desperate? Your pure little cunt is dripping for me.”
“I’m not!”
To prove the point, I pull my fingers out and rub them over her lips and nose, so she can feel and smell just how eager she is for me.
She yelps and averts her face, but all that does is smear her fluids even more.
“That’s all you, Princess. You want to tell me again that you’re not eager for my cock?”
I suddenly hope Bellini doesn’t take our deal. I hope he treats his daughter like he does every other person, so that I can show her just how much her pussy craves me. It would be fun to have a plaything around.
Unfortunately, we do have a plan, and for now I can’t do more than this. Toying with Lucia is one thing, but my real goal is Giorgis Bellini’s utter destruction. His daughter is just a tool for us.
“You’re a pig,” Lucia snaps.
I laugh at her and pointedly rub my sticky fingers over her lips. But before I can react, she bites my finger hard.
“Fuck!” I yell, and I slap her. Her head snaps to the other side, and there’s a large red imprint on her face. To her credit, she doesn’t cry out. Her eyes are damp, but no tears fall.
“Hey! Don’t damage her!” Saint admonishes. He’s looking over his shoulder again.
“Keep your eyes on the fucking road!”
I’m beyond pissed now. Forget treating Lucia nicely. I’m going to fuck her virgin cunt bloody just as soon as our plan is over. Maybe I’ll do more than that; it’s been a while since I’ve used my knife on anybody, since I’ve created art through patterns on the skin. I can already picture it, the way her eyes will widen in terror when she sees the wickedly sharp blade I like to use. Maybe when I slice into her flesh, she’ll actually cry.
I want to see her sob, and it goes beyond even my grudge against her father at this point. I want to get back at the little bitch who thought she could get away with kicking me and biting me, something I won’t give her a chance to do again.
I’ll be the one doing the biting, leaving perfect teeth marks in her flesh.
The car pulls into the long driveway. The manor looks like any McMansion in the area, ostentatious and more about showing off wealth than actual class. It’s ugly as sin, but at least it’s got a nice big yard with plenty of trees to provide privacy. We’ve held a few nude pool parties here with the neighbors none the wiser.
A lot of things happen here that they know nothing about.
This isn’t our first unwilling visitor, and it won’t be the last. But with the way we have security set up, they’ll never find out a single thing is wrong at the place we call home.
The garage holds five cars, and Saint parks in the spot closest to the door. The other spots have the nicer cars, but for this job, we’d taken a nice, nondescript one. We’ll have somebody switch out the license plates later, too.
Lucia’s haughty attitude is beginning to fade as the garage door closes behind us and everything gets darker, but I can still see her calculating eyes. She thinks she can still escape us. Too bad for her, but all that security we’ve got? It doesn’t just keep people out.
It keeps people in, too.
I drag her out of the car, squeezing her ass in the process, and push her in the direction of the house.
Saint gives me an exasperated look. “Be gentle, man.”
“She fucking bit me. You be gentle under those circumstances.”
“I’d do it again, too. Keep your hands to yourself.” Lucia tries to pull away from me, even though I’ve still got the gun aimed at her and my grip is strong. Maybe she’s suicidal. Or she thinks I’m not a threat.
Fuck all of this. I don’t need to put up with her shit.
I pull her close and lift her up, over my shoulder. She squeaks loudly. Both Saint and I laugh.
“Put me down!” she yells, kicking at me. It barely even tickles. For all her fire, Lucia’s as weak as a kitten.
“No can do. You refused to cooperate,” I tell her. I run the gun along her ass and between her legs, and that shuts her right up. I can feel every muscle in her body trembling with fear. That’s better. That’s much, much better.
Saint gives me an exasperated look, but he’s smiling too. Clearly he’s not as put out as he’s pretending to be, but the pretense is sexy as hell. He may not be into the same things I am, but he never lifts a finger when I’m playing my games—and his cock is always hard by the time I’m done, even if he hates admitting it.
He unlocks the door, and the two of us head down the hall towards the office. This time of night, there’s nobody else around. The guards are out patrolling the grounds, and the service staff have gone back to their residences in the separate building on a different part of the compound.
Saint knocks on the office door. “Hey, we’re back. We got the girl.”
Naturally we’re made to wait a few seconds before we get a response. “Come in. It’s unlocked.”
The massive doors open slowly, and with a very loud creak. I keep saying we should get it fixed, but apparently the sound is a great alert system. Besides, there are other ways in and out of the office. Secret ways.
The large office is decorated in that faux antique way. Big, massive bookcases behind a massive wooden desk, with a dark red rug and two leather couches in front of it. The coffee table was custom made last year, but it looks like it could have been from a hundred years ago. I’m not really into the old-timey look, but I’m not the one in charge of decorating.
Sitting on the plush leather couch is Victor Corvi.
He’s the head of our organization, or what’s left of it. We used to be the largest Mafia family in the city, but Giorgis fucking Bellini waltzed into the area and took over more and more of our territory. We’ve lost countless men to that fucker, and I’m ready for payback.
Victor understands how personal it is to me. He promised he’d help me get revenge, that I’ll get to be the one to put a bullet through Bellini’s head. It’s because of that promise that I’m willing to help him. I don’t care who runs the dark side of Benton City anymore, just as long as that fucker dies by my hand.
“Took you a while,” Victor says mildly. There’s a glass of scotch in his hand, which he sips slowly. “I started to wonder if you two couldn’t handle her.”
“Fuck off,” I answer. “She was on the move, so we had to change our plans.”
Lucia’s been awfully quiet. She’s even stopped pounding on my back. I could set her down gently, but I don't want her to get the wrong impression. I’m not gentle.
I dump her on the floor, and that short moment where she’s falling, she shrieks. Her body makes a loud thud as it lands.
“Screw you!” She struggles to get onto her knees. She probably wants to stand, but I place my gun against her temple.
“Show some respect, Princess. Do you know who you’re talking to?”
“No one important. Just another two-bit low-life criminal, who thinks he’s the hottest shit in town. You’ll get kicked out of this town real fast.” She smirks at him, like she’s forgotten she’s on her knees with her hands cuffed behind her and my gun against her head.
Victor doesn’t react to her taunt. He calmly takes another sip of his scotch before looking at Saint. “Gag her, would you?”
“Sure thing!” Saint pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket. He just carries those around. Says you never know when they’ll come in handy, and I guess that’s true. We’ve had to impromptu gag a few people over the past few years.
What’s weird is that Saint doesn’t tie the cloth across Lucia’s mouth. He covers her nose and lips, and although she struggles for a few moments, she soon slumps forward into Saint’s arms.
“The fuck?” I lower my gun and glare at him. “Was that necessary?”
Saint shrugs, still smiling. “At least I didn’t ask if it smells of chloroform before I knocked her out. That would’ve been the tacky part.” He lifts Lucia up in a bridal carry, her head lolling against his shoulder. “This way just seemed faster. Where do you want her, boss?”
Victor finishes his scotch calmly and sets the glass down on the coffee table. On a coaster, of course, because Victor can’t abide by water stains on the furniture. Sometimes I put my drinks right next to the coasters just to piss him off.
“Take her to the basement. I have a camera set up there. We’re going to show Bellini exactly what will happen to his daughter if he doesn’t give in to our demands.”
I feel arousal pool in my belly. My cock throbs with anticipation.
The basement is where we take care of the dirtiest business. Lucia’s going to have a very, very bad day.
But us? We’re going to have a lot of fun.