Come Back To Me: Mafia Romance (18+ Only)

Chapter 9

Blow jobs or hand jobs?

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I felt like drinking bleach.

My body ached, everything in me was a searing, burning pain that made me want to scream. My body felt like it was on fire. And not the kind of "ohmygodd this guys cock is so thick, my body feels like its on fireeee."

No, it was "HOLY DICKS somebody PLEASE shove a Nerf gun up my ass hole, shoot me in the head and set my corpse on FIRE!"

"Where the fuck..." My voice trailed off as I peeled open my eyes, a dim room greeted me. It was dark, wherever the fuck I was, my body lay on cold concrete.

I groaned, sitting up with exhaustion, my head felt like shattered glass engulfed in my skull. My eyes were barley open, the pain and fatigue made me want to scream.

What the fuck happened?

All I could remember was the feeling of dread as the car flipped, and the sight of shoes approaching before my world went black.

"Oh good, you're awake."

My head flew towards the deep sounding voice hidden in the shadows of the room.

My mouth was dry, my throat stung, "where am I?" my voice quivered, I covered my heavy Russian accent with an American one.

"You're very pretty." The deep voice came again, whoever it was, was male, a strong American accent seeped through his words.

I gripped my head in my hands. This isn't happening.

"We saw you and your friend get off the highway, I'm sorry about the way we retrieved you, but my men can be very violent at times." His voice made me want to set my face on fire, it sounded unsympathetic, he sounded like a complete sociopath.

"I-I'm confused..." I said quietly.

I heard the sound of him getting up, I flinched as I heard his footsteps approaching me. Instead of the feeling of my body being touched, there was a simple click of a light switch, and the room was illuminated in bright florescent light.

I squinted my eyes, the light blinded me from the familiar darkness as I struggled with my vision. I glanced at my kidnapper, and saw a young man in his late twenties, with dark hair and greedy, gray eyes. He wore his smile like a mask, it was the kind of smile your mother would warn you about. He wore the smile, almost as if he was offering you ice cream from a tinted van. His bright white teeth glimmered as he stared directly at me.

"My name, is Thomas. I'm in charge here." He extended a pale greedy hand.

I stared at his wrists, looking for any kind of tattoos. I was expecting french, or Italian markings, because those were the mobs Sinister and I had screwed over many months ago. No, instead, there were the words "Only God of America Can Judge Me" along with other American Mafia insignias.

American organized crime.

I glanced for a moment at my wrists, thankful for the sleeves of my hoodie, and bracelets to cover the Russian Mafia Insignia inked into my skin.

America and Russia have been enemies even before World War II, our countries have never gotten along. But in the world of Organized Crime? It was far worse, our hate for each other ran deeper than blood.

"Well, you see, I don't usually pay mind to people traveling through my towns. But, when there is potential threat, I will be there to ensure reconciliation." He loomed over me like a predator does his prey. I felt like a doe hiding from a bear.

An ugly bear, who looks like he eats 12-year olds.

"I don't understand..." I fazed innocence, backing away from him until my back hit the concrete wall behind me.

He shifted his weight, "You were holding a gun, against that man who was driving, would you mind explaining that to me?"

I bit down on my tongue, "he's my old boyfriend...we were getting into an argument, I don't know, I guess I got trigger happy?"

That is the stupidest thing I have ever said...

And for me, that's pretty fucking stupid. I thought Jujitsu was a place in Egypt.

The man towering about me considered this, his hands resting to the side of his crisp grey suit. He had dirt crusted underneath his fingertips. Ew bitch, wash your hands.

Finally, he nodded, "what is your name? And don't try lying, the man you were with...Sebastian? He already told me, so do not lie."

"Calla..." my voice quivered, my hands shook as I buried them in my lap.

This man...Thomas...he reminded me of a serial killer. Quiet, well-mannered,and reserved but when threatened...violent. I decided not to put my theory to the test.

Thomas nodded again, and gave me a slow, small smile, "Very good, Calla. Come with me."

He turned away from me, knocking a few times before the door to the room creaked open.

I followed Thomas down a pale green hallway, the lights on the ceiling flickered as I trailed cautiously behind.  I felt like I was walking through an abandoned hospital. Ew.

My entire body ached with every step that I look, it felt like my bones were slowly shattering with every step I took, my entire being shook with searing pain.

As we approached the end of the hall, the pain turned to numb, my vision blurred, and all I could think about was Sinister.

I didn't need saving in Miami, but I do now. And all I could think about, was the fact that he was probably better off without me. I would only bring him, and his organization, complete destruction. It might be better that I live the rest of my life a prisoner to another, than to live it a prisoner to myself and to him.

The door creaked open to reveal a room full of women, no, let me reprhase that....a room full of prostitues.

The room was a blur of makeup, lingerie, hairspray, and the stench of severe arousal. Women were lined up, dressed in next-to-nothing, they applied makeup against a line of mirrors pressed against the wall.

I spun around to Thomas, "What the fuck is this?"

The skin around his lips wrinkled as he smirked at me, "your new job, sweetie."

I took a major step back, my body pressed against the door, "Are you fucking crazy? Did you suck too much dick this morning? There's no way I'm becoming a fucking prostitute!!"

My face was completely morphed into utter shock. This man was fucking delusional.

His grip remained steady, "You think you have a choice, whore?"

"Okay... what the fuck makes you think I will ever do this? You might have be 'kidnapped' but that doesn't mean I won't burn this fucking place to the ground the second you blink." My face was red with anger, my breathing was heavy as I struggled to fathom the situation.

His demeanor, however, remained perfectly calm. The slight wrinkles at the side of his mouth pulled up into an indifferent smile. His watery gray eyes made me want to smack him with a brick.

"It's funny that you think you have a choice." His words were a knife in my heart.

I turned my back towards the room of women, and crossed my arms in front of my chest. I blinked back tears and shoved every ounce of bitchiness I had left into my words.

"I will not be your whore. You will not make me do this. So help me god, you will regret what you do. You have no idea who I am. I will come back, and I will fucking kill you. Every hour, every minute, every second I will do everything I can to run your organization to the ground. Don't even think about sleeping at night, don't think about looking away. Because the second you even blink, I will burn this place to the fucking ground."

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Xo -Aleksei