My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 3 by Marita A. Hansen

Author:Marita A. Hansen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: agents, fbi, erotica, bondage, sex slaves, kidnapped, capture, non consent, italian mafia

3

Frano

Rita collapsed on me, taking us down. I grunted as we hit the floor, my head banging against the hard wood. My mind went hazy for a moment, the constant hits to my head making it hard to focus. Someone said something, then kicked me in the side, telling me to get up. I turned Rita over, then checked her pulse, relieved to find one. I yelled out as another kick struck me.

“Get up!” Nino snapped.

I pushed shakily to my feet. A smile spread across Nino’s face, the prick finding my pain amusing. And what had happened to Federico ... the way he was taken out—a pawn used to put me down, his life meaning nothing to them. Rage filled me, no, it fucking exploded. Letting out a roar, I rushed Nino, taking him down. I knew there was nothing I could do for Federico, but I was going to make at least one of these bastards pay.

Yelling started up, the don and his own not finding what I was doing so amusing. Lucky shoved his gun into my back, hollering at me to get off his brother, but I continued to punch Nino, not caring, because they were going to kill me anyway.

Lucky hit me over my head with his gun, right where I had been struck before. I fell off Nino, then went to get up, but a foot stomped on my chest. A different face loomed over me. It was Matteo, Rita’s supposed husband, the charlatan who had made a fool out of me, pretending to be someone he wasn’t.

“Really?” Matteo said, staring down with those blue eyes I never realized were Donatelli. “You’re upset over the death of a FBI agent? Are you selling the families out to the FBI? Because you attacked my uncle right after one of them died and the other was struck down. Maybe you’re breaking the code of silence. That in itself is worthy of being crucified.”

“I’m not breaking the Omertà. I was using Federico to pass on false information to the FBI, and her,” I indicated to the unconscious Rita. “I owed her; she stopped the sick priest from raping me.”

“Again, speaking ill of my family. The reasons to crucify you are mounting. Or shall we bring your brother in here and kill him instead?”

“NO!!”

“Don’t worry your pretty head, Frano, I wouldn’t kill Alberto, I love his cock. It’s nice and thick, and probably right now... How do you say? ...fottuto Jagger. Or is it del cazzo? I have no idea; my Italian is fucking bad.” He laughed at his pun.

“It’s not fucking, it’s rape!” I shouted. “You bastards are allowing my brother to live out his sick fantasies.”

“True. But back to the issue at hand: who else can I kill? I would suggest Mario, but unfortunately, even though I don’t know the traitor, he’s still technically my cousin, so he’s off my hit list. Who does that leave? Servants? But they aren’t fun to kill, plus they’re useful, unlike old men in wheelchairs.

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