Possession Of A Gangster

Chapter 26- Luciano Genovese

A/N- any text in <..> is the English translation.
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Italian. They were speaking Italian. Who? I don't know, I can't see, something covered my eyes from revealing the truth. But I heard it. That thick, rich accent that I all too recognised as Italian. And I understood every word. The language was one of many I was fluent in. Italian, along with French, Spanish and German, was one of the many languages I was forced to learn. At the time I hated it, constantly getting them confused with one-another. But now? I couldn't be more grateful.

"È sveglia?" A deep voice spoke, and I immediately recognised it as the man from the car. God knows how, my head throbbed- I felt half asleep. My hands balled into fists beneath the restraints. "Credo che la tua risposta." A much more dark and threatening voice arose.

<is she awake?>  <I guess that's your answer.>

I lifted my head slightly, attempting to wake up further, desperate to clear the cloud in my mind. Suddenly the bag was ripped from my head. My eyes instantly squinted, the slight light change much more disliked than it should have been. Gripping the edge of the chair arms, my eyes adjusted to the room.

One man at the door. Gun in his hand. One man to the left of me. Gun in his hand. One man in front of me. Nothing.

I analysed my options, how I should respond to these men, maybe how I could go about them, escape, lengthen my life. "Che bellezza, posso capire perché damon ti piace così." I could practically feel his stealth wrap it's way around my neck, restricting my breath. I didn't show my fear, my discomfort to his approaching self. I purely stared at him, disgust in my eyes. Nothing more, nothing less.

<what beauty, I can see why Damon likes you so.>

"La puttana non sembra come te." The man from the door exclaimed. I understood every word they were saying, but I wouldn't show it. I was strong, I had to stay strong. So I continued to glare at the man in front of me, refusing to crack under his now gleaming eyes. He sure was enjoying this. His lips curled up into a sickening grin. "Lei lo farà." He replied.

<The whore doesn't seem to like you.> <She will.>

If this was any other day, and I was any other person but myself, I probably would have been attracted to this man. He was around 28, had that look. That sexy danger look, of course he was no match for Damon, but if he hadn't have kidnapped me, I could have seen myself double-glancing.

However when his hand brushed against my skin, and breath fanned my neck as every muscle in my body tightened , I only wanted to scream. "La tua pelle è come la seta."

<your skin is like silk.>

I broke my rules. "Prendi le tue sporche mani da me." My words, spat like venom through clenched teeth immediately resulted in him moving back, a mix of pure shock and delight on the mans face. Glancing quickly to the other 'men' in the room, I noticed they too had their eyebrows raised.

<Get your filthy hands off of me.>

"You speak Italian?" His phrase was less like a question and more like a fascination. He seemed fascinated in me. I returned my eyesight to that lustful look in his eyes. He soaked me in and as strong as I was trying to be, it made me incredibly uncomfortable. "You speak English?" I replied, no expression in my voice.

He continued to stare at me, a look of glee in his eyes as my hateful glare never faltered. "lasciaci." He ordered, tipping his head to the side in gesture, not removing his eyes from me.