Breaking Lucia by Raissa Donovan

4

Lucia

Iwake slowly, feeling like I’m fighting quicksand to regain consciousness. It’s not like waking up normally, that’s for sure, but I can’t tell exactly why. I try to open my eyes, but it’s as though they’re glued shut.

It’s enough to make the panic set in—which is thankfully enough to boost my adrenaline. My eyes fly open, but it takes a moment for me to even realize what I’m seeing, which is…

Nothing.

It’s a whole lot of absolute nothing. It’s brightly lit, and I almost wish for darkness.

The only thing in the room is the crappy wannabe mattress I’m lying down on, which is possibly the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. I’m alone, and that’s the only blessing because I need time to recover and regroup before one of those men comes barging in here.

I close my eyes again and try to focus, breathing in deep.

Then my eyes fly open because there’s a certain unforgettable smell I can’t seem to get away from. I try to sit up, only to stay lying down, dizzy from the effort, but I can reach up and touch my face.

I recognize it, then.

There’s dried cum on my face.

It flakes and itches, and I try to wipe it away. But it’s solid, which means it’s been there a while.

One of those fuckers came on my face.

There aren’t words to describe how fucking furious I am. I don’t care how dizzy or sick I feel right now; if one of those men walks through the door, I am going to take them out or die trying.

Probably the latter, but I’m not just going to simper and whine about them assaulting me while I was passed out.

What’s worse is that the more I come back to awareness, the more I realize.

Like the fact that I’m not wearing anything under my oversized sweater, like the fact that my panties feel stiff somehow.

Like the fact I can feel dried cum on my stomach, too.

I try to scratch it away, but it’s just… there.

That’s when I realize my pants are unbuttoned, too. Those sick fucks. I fumble with the zipper and the button, getting myself back in order so I can at least try to gather myself.

Flat on my back, I stare at the ceiling, though my eyes are drawn to a steadily blinking red light in one of the corners. Those goddamn motherfuckers. Of course they’re monitoring me. They’re probably watching this and laughing. My hands curl into fists at my sides, and I struggle for a moment before finally forcing myself to sit up.

The entire room spins, and I feel like there’s a ball of cotton in my mouth. Couldn’t they at least have left me some water?

Never mind that I’d probably use it to clean their filthy cum off of me instead of drinking it.

It’s not like I’ve ever shied away from sex before when I can get away with it away from Daddy’s all-seeing eyes, but those have all been willing encounters. The man he wants to marry me to is a rapist and an abuser, which doesn’t seem to click in Daddy’s head. He’s too stubborn to realize that trading me to that man is the worst thing he can do to me.

And it’s all over territory.

Fucker.

All men care about is money and property, and these three men are no exception.

I’m suddenly angry at everything, and I wish I had something to throw. Anything.

I stagger to my feet, barely staying upright, but I look directly at the camera. “I’m awake, you motherfuckers. Come here and try to get your dicks near me when I’m conscious. I dare you.”

They leave me waiting for at least fifteen minutes. It’s on purpose, I know it is, because Daddy pulls this same shit all the time. He asks somebody to visit but makes them wait just to show exactly who’s boss.

When the door finally opens, Victor steps through. He looks as immaculate as he did last time I saw him with his tailored suit and expensive tie. Even the shoes look like he spent a thousand dollars on them. I don’t know who he’s trying to impress. I’m not exactly a stranger to wealth.

“So? Did Daddy cave to your demands?” I ask snidely. I’m still standing, and I’m slightly less shaky, but I would kill for a bottle of water.

Victor keeps his expression blank, so I can’t tell what he’s thinking. Out of all three of them, he’s probably the most dangerous. The guy who fondled me in the car, he played his hand early, with how he went on about my purity and virginity. His friend… the blond is the one who drugged me, I think, but he seemed subservient to both of these two. Victor is the top dog though.

Victor Corvi. I’ve heard of him. It was hard not to when my dad was working his way up the ladder, so to speak. He’d cussed about Victor a lot, even over the dinner table when he ostensibly wasn’t working. Us women weren’t really meant to be privy to all the violent business talk, but Daddy wasn’t really that good about keeping a work-life balance. What I didn’t hear from him, I got to hear as pillow talk. Men have no real confidantes, and it’s no stereotype that they’re always happy to spill when they’re all relaxed from sex.

The rumors about Victor aren’t exactly promising. I know he isn’t married, and that he had a hand in the fire at one of our warehouses. One rumor says he personally murdered a man who stole ten bucks from him, but that’s the kind of exaggerated talk the mafia likes to spread around. If you take them by their word, everybody’s murdered their grandmother at ten and become a made man at fifteen.

Victor used to be a bigger deal in town until Daddy waltzed in and pushed the previous gang lords out. That doesn’t exactly breed good-will between people.

I don’t really want to be caught in the middle of a gang war. If these macho men want to murder each other, they can do it without me.

“Ms. Bellini,” Victor says. His nose wrinkles, probably thanks to the stale-cum smell. Serves him right.

I wonder if any of it is his.

Whether it is or not, I don’t particularly care. I stalk over to him as well as I can on wobbly legs and stand close to him. I shove at his chest, letting him see just how pissed off I am. “Well? When is he getting me out of this hellhole? And don’t think I won’t tell him what you and your men did to me.”

Despite the businessman look, Victor doesn’t even stumble at my shove. Apparently he’s very solid underneath that suit. “So far, he hasn’t done anything. It makes me wonder if he even values you at all,” he says.

While I’m processing this, he takes a step forward. I’m forced to back up too, or have our chests pressed together. His expression doesn’t change at all. I’m having a hard time getting a read on him. Does he want my father to give in or not?

Do I want my father to give in or not? But at least with Daddy, I know what’s going on. Right?

“Daddy needs me,” I say with more confidence than I feel.

But he does need me. He needs me for that fucking alliance with that despicable man.

“Does he? He has another daughter. Maybe he decided you’re expendable.”

I glare at him and press my palms flat against his muscled chest, pushing again. “Get away from me,” I warn him. “You’re only making things worse for yourself.”

“How so?” He takes one of my hands and twines his fingers through mine. His grip is tight, threatening. It isn’t a romantic gesture, and I don’t take it as one.

I jerk back, glowering at him as I try to yank free of his grasp. Maybe I’m the one who got close first, but that was under my terms. I’m not going to have him invade my space, to touch me any more than he potentially already has. The only thing that keeps me from completely losing it is that I don’t think they actually fucked me. My mouth, maybe, which makes me want to vomit, but the cotton feel makes it impossible. And they definitely came on my chest. But despite the way my panties feel, I don’t think they violated me that much while I was unconscious.

Fuck!

“What did you do to me?” I demand in lieu of actually answering his question.

Victor finally lets go of me, allowing me to stumble back a few feet. “Nothing much. They barely touched you, since you’ll be of higher value in one piece… or so I was assuming. Judging by your father’s lack of response, maybe I should simply allow my associates to have their fun with you. They deserve a bit of a reward for all their hard work.”

I recoil from his words. I would love to say that I’m not someone to be used and traded around, but the reality is that I’m a chess piece and little more. Whether it’s here or with my father, it doesn’t matter what I want. Men rule this world, but I’ll be damned if I just lie here meekly and let them take what they want without taking my own pound of flesh.

“And in the process, you’d damage his property,” I say, unable to keep the venom from my voice. “I’m already promised to someone else. You don’t want to lower my value.”

I see the first hint of interest in his face. He doesn’t know about the engagement—and why would he? It hasn’t been announced yet. I was supposed to meet with Emilio next week, to get to know my future husband and show off just how beautiful and obedient I was.

“Now who would he promise you to?” Victor taps his chin in a thoughtful gesture. “Your father is very traditional, and you don’t sound too happy about this arrangement. A business partner of his? One of the Marconi brothers, or perhaps Alastro.”

It’s not any of those men. They’re all terrible too, in their own ways, but they don’t hold a candle to Emilio. Finally, I can see my way through Victor. He doesn’t care about me, but he cares about Daddy’s business.

“Why would you care?” I ask, tossing my head. “Why would it matter to you? All you need to know is that I won’t be worth as much if you let your… associates keep pawing all over me.”

I’m having to think fast. Of course Victor’s interested in this deal. If he’s trying to make a play for power, he needs to know who this alliance will be with. Not that I have any intention of following through, not if I can help it, but Victor doesn’t need to know that either.

I’ll run again the second I have a chance, and this time? I won’t be caught. Not by my father’s men, not by his rivals, not by anyone. I’ll run, and I’ll keep running until no one can ever find me again.

Victor’s calculating eyes run over me. I stand tall, not allowing him to intimidate me. I have something he wants, and he has to cooperate with me to get it.

“How about this? Tell me who it is, and I’ll upgrade your accommodations here. A shower, clean clothes, and I’ll even tell my men to keep their hands and dicks to themselves.”

I want that, but it isn’t enough. I can’t risk them returning me to Daddy.

Once he gets me back, he’s going to have me guarded around the clock, and now that I’ve run once, he knows I’ll do it again in a heartbeat. I don’t know what the security situation is like here, but I know I have a better chance of escaping. They don’t know me. They don’t know what I’m capable of.

They think I’m some innocent, but I’m far from it.

“That’s a generous offer, but I think you can sweeten the deal a little more,” I say. There’s no harm in trying.

He cracks the smallest of smiles. He almost looks handsome now, for a cold bastard. “What is it you want, Ms. Bellini?”

I want to be free of all these assholes, but that’s not on the table. I have to buy time, lure them into complacency until I can make my move. So I take a gamble, rolling the dice and hoping like mad this doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass. “I want to stay here,” I say, steel and conviction in my voice. “In upgraded accommodations worthy of me, of course, without your men trying to take advantage of me.”

I’ve surprised him, I can tell. For a few moments he stays silent, staring at me. It starts to unnerve me, but I’m sure that’s on purpose too. I don’t care how long he wants to play this game, though, as long as he believes me.

“Why would you want to stay here?” he finally asks.

“Do you really think I want to be married off to the highest bidder?” I counter. “And do you really want to hand him even more power and money by returning me? As long as I’m here, he can’t move forward with the deal. Think about it.”

He inclines his head at me in acknowledgement. “Fair enough. But can’t your father simply use your sister instead?”

“If he wants to look weak, sure,” I tell him, shrugging. I have his attention, and I need to keep it. I need to make sure he thinks this through, and I can string him along while I work on an escape plan. “His oldest daughter is kidnapped, and he can’t get her back, so he has to try again with her younger sister?” I scoff. “He’d be a laughingstock.”

There’s a spark of something in his eyes now. Oh, he definitely hates my father as much as I do. “I like how you think, Ms. Bellini. All right. I’ll play along. Now tell me: who is your betrothed?”

This is it. This is the real gamble. He can take the information and use it with me or against me. I brace myself then tell him, “Emilio Pavone.”