The Mafia’s Pet

Chapter 4

(Song: “Sweet Dreams” by Michele Morrone)

Vanessa

"I'm not wearing this," I say defiantly. Unable to hide my grimace, I toss the dress back to him. He chuckles as though I'm merely a tantrum-throwing child.

I'm already wearing his stupid collar, now he wants me to put on a stupid dress that is way too short. Dad taught us that only girls asking for trouble wear skirts and dresses. Just imagine if he had seen this one!

Diego c***s a dark eyebrow. "Have you never worn a dress before, Mama?"

"N-No. And I don't need to wear one. I'm not the w***e you're trying to turn me in to!" I assert, feeling my cheeks flush.

A shadow crosses over his face. "And who called you a w***e?"

I ignore the question.

"You said you weren't going to pimp us out. So, why are you making me dress like a w***e?" I ask, my voice rising in fear and anger.

"I already told you that you're all mine, Mascota. My club is upscale, so dressing casually will make you stand out." He rises from the bed and adjusts his black suit jacket. "Why don't you go try it on in the bathroom and see how you feel?" he suggests, handing the dress back to me.

I roll my eyes but go into the bathroom, shut the door so the psycho doesn't see me naked, and slip on the golden sequin dress. It clings to my body like a second skin, showing off my figure. It's a really cute dress, but I can't help but feel a twinge of shame as I look at myself in the mirror.

I just can't wear it.

"Uhh, how do you already have clothes that fit me?" I call out from behind the bathroom door.

"I've had enough women in my bed to know what a medium looks like," he shouts back.

I roll my eyes. "Ooh, look who's bragging about all the women he's forced to have s*x with him."

He bursts the door open, storming towards me with a furious expression. I press myself against the wall, desperately hoping he won't come any closer.

But of course, he does because the asshole doesn't understand what boundaries are.

He cages me between his arms, his masculine scent consuming my senses. "Forced?" he asks, arching an arrogant eyebrow. "Oh no, Mama, they begged me to f**k them. Just like you will eventually."

I ignore the flutter in my v****a. "Whatever."

Again, he brags about how many women he has f****d, but if he can have anyone he wants, why does he want me?

He allows me to duck underneath his arm and escape back into the room. I can feel his heated gaze on my ass as he follows behind me. "How do you feel about the dress now?"

"I don't...hate it, but we're going to a club. I don't want to be...," I swallow hard. "I don't want to get into trouble with any of the guys there."

His fingers graze my collar, his icy eyes filled with determination. "My club is a safe space for consensual s*x. And as long as you have this on, no one will dare touch what's mine."

——————————————————-

"Could we swing by McDonald's?" Alicia asks, positioned on my other side as I'm seated way too close to Diego.

"There's food at the club," Diego mutters, still engrossed in his phone like he has been the entire ride. I crave a diversion from his powerful scent and warmth, but I know he wouldn't trust us with a phone.

"What kind of food? I'm kinda in the mood for a burger and some fries."

"Shut up, Alicia," I mutter under my breath.

I get it, though. We barely had any food for seven years, so she's savoring every bite of freedom. Maybe getting kidnapped by the mafia was a blessing in disguise for her, but I'll never find any gratitude in it.

"I wish you would stop acting so bitchy, Nessa. Just two days ago we were in a worse situation than we are now," she points out, adjusting the skimpy "uniform" Diego gave her. "We can have food. d**k. Access to other human beings. s**t, I'll even f**k Diego if you won't do it."

"Not interested," he grumbles beside me.

She ignores him and continues, "I mean look at us actually wearing clothing that exposes our skin. Dad never would've let us wear these without pretty much saying we deserve to be raped for not dressing like boys." I pinch her, and she yelps, "Ow! What the hell was that for?"

But it's already too late.

Diego's full attention is on us as he slips his phone into his pocket, his eyes cold and calculating. "Antonio said that, huh?"

"Yeah. I'm glad that you killed him, and as f****d up as it sounds, I mean that," Alicia says nonchalantly.

Ugh, why is she still talking?

He strokes his chin thoughtfully. "Vanessa, let's make a truce. If you're honest with me, I'll be honest with you. I think this will ensure that our arrangement goes smoothly."

Honesty? What the hell does he know about honesty?

And I wish he would stop referring to my kidnapping as an "arrangement".

I roll my eyes and mockingly retort, "Aww, did you realize acting like an asshole isn't getting me to open my legs for you, and you're going to pretend to be a good guy who doesn't kidnap and kill people?"

I know I'm poking the bear, but I don't give a f**k. Sitting in this car with both him and my sister is really starting to piss me off.

His icy glare cuts through me. "I never claimed to be a good man, but I am fair. My club is legal, I treat my employees well, and I only kill when it's necessary. Your father's death was necessary, don't you agree?" he asks calmly.

He watches me, patiently awaiting my reply. His stoic expression only fuels my rage and makes me hate him more. I don't care how he views himself, he'll always be a monster to me!

"Oh, so if you would've killed us the other night, that would've been justified?" I bite out.

He nods. "Sí. When you join the mafia, your family becomes mine. When your father betrayed me, he knew what was at stake. He obviously didn't think he'd be caught, or he just didn't give a f**k about his own daughters."

My heart pangs. He wasn't the best father, but Mom's death changed him. Maybe he just didn't love us nearly as much as he loved her.

"You're right, he didn't," Alicia replies sourly, "he kept us locked in a house for seven years with security alarms on every door and window. He limited our internet access, and he starved-"

"Alicia, please shut the f**k up! Why are you telling him that? Our home life is none of his concern," I hiss, my frustration boiling over.

She shrugs. "I don't know, there's just something about him that makes me want to tell him my whole life."

Yeah, it's called being the Devil.

My arms are tightly folded against my chest as I turn my attention back to the window.

"Vanessa."

My head snaps back in his direction. "What?" I growl, annoyed at myself for even acknowledging him.

His gaze becomes gentle, like a calm ocean. "I'll make sure you're safe and well taken care of while you're with me."

His words ignite a flicker of emotion in me, but I push it away. I don't need anyone to save me, especially not someone like him!

"Take care of me? Please!" I scoff. "You're just another power-hungry control freak. I can't wait for these six months to be over."

He lets out a loud sigh, his eyes boring into mine. "Once I can trust you, you'll have more freedom. But for now, you're a risk," he says firmly.

"But you're taking me to your club?"

I'll find a way to escape, and once I do, he won't be able to track me down. I'll change my identity and start fresh in a new country. Anything to never have to see his face again.

As if he can read my mind, he grins. "There is security everywhere. You'll only waste your time trying to escape," he says matter-of-factly.

I want to knock that stupid, cocky smirk off his face.

I won't know if it's a waste of time until I try. He's trying to get into my head, make me complacent, but I'll never give up. I'll stick with my plan and maybe I can get just one person to help and call the police.

"We're here," he accounces.

I look out the window to see an obsidian building emerging into the sky against the vibrant Nevada skyline. Bold, crimson accents trace the edges of the building, and the sign "Dark Desires", radiates a crimson glow. It's like the building itself is whispering to me, tempting me to step inside and uncover its hidden secrets. I can't resist the curiosity that wells up inside me.

His driver stops in front of the building and Danny and Luis are there to get us out and lead us inside. Danny grips the s**t out of my arm, and I don't know if it's because he doesn't like me, or he thinks I will bolt.

As we step inside, my jaw drops. It's a massive club with two floors, an elevator, and a balcony on the top floor. The first floor contains a bar and right across from it, strippers dance on poles, surrounded by cozy booths. The lighting is low and sultry, creating a seductive atmosphere.

"Oh, so this is just a strip club?" I mumble, mostly to myself.

He chuckles. "Not quite. The brothel and private rooms are upstairs."

"B-Brothel?"

His fingers graze my cheek, but I recoil, causing a mischievous smile to play on his lips. "You're so innocent, Mama. I'm going to enjoy corrupting you," he purrs.

If my plan works, he won't have a chance to do that from prison.

"Luis, show Alicia what she will be doing. Mama, follow me. I'll give you a tour of the building."

She looks at me, her eyes brimming with fear, but follows Luis with her head held high. Diego grabs my arm and leads me in the opposite direction.

We ride up in the elevator in silence until the sound of s*x surrounds us. My core begins to ache, and I'm tempted to cover my ears as shame washes over me.

There's definitely something wrong with me, and despite my better judgment, I can't help but want to know what's happening up here.

As we step onto the floor, I instinctively move closer to him. We make our way down a long hallway lined with numerous doors. Suddenly, a man emerges from one of the rooms, his black suit and hair slightly disheveled. He gives Diego a nod as he passes us.

"This side is where the girls work and stay. The other side is where the private rooms are," Diego explains softly.

"What are the rooms for?" I inquire.

"b**m, group s*x, public s*x. If you just want to rent a room for a quickie."

I swallow hard and nod. "What about the girls? Are they like...being forced?"

"No, as I've told you before, my business is legit. They're private contractors. They choose their price and what s****l favors they offer," he answers, watching my reaction intently.

I don't know how I feel about that, but I guess I feel better knowing they're not being forced to f**k men for money, and he's not some kind of pimp.

Danny suddenly emerges from the elevator and approaches us. "Jefe, you're needed."

Diego sighs, legit disappointment etched across his features. "Mama, I'll have to cut our tour short. I have business to take care of, but Danny will keep you company." He brushes his finger across my collar. "Behave and don't give him a hard time."

Before I can even respond, he disappears down the hallway. Danny silently escorts me back downstairs to the bar and orders himself a shot of tequila.

My heart sighs with relief as I catch sight of Alicia serving drinks to men at the booths. Thank f**k Diego kept his word, and she's not dancing or selling her body.

Time drags on, and I find myself increasingly bored out of my mind. The music is so loud and catchy, I can't help but bob along as I sit on the stool. Danny is on his second shot, his subtle gaze fixed on me, though he tries to hide it.

"Sooo, it must be hot wearing that suit all the time, huh?" I ask, attempting to spark some conversation with my babysitter.

He rolls his eyes, his irritation palpable. "I need to take a leak. Can you behave, or do I need to take you to the bathroom with me and hold your hand like a toddler?" he retorts gruffly.

Yep, he definitely doesn't like me.

"I'll sit here," I reply through gritted teeth, shooting him a defiant glare as he heads off to the bathroom.

Diego wasn't kidding about this place being fancy. Everyone here is all dressed up, and my outfit fits right in. I notice guys checking me out as they walk past the bar, but when they notice my collar, they quickly look away.

This is a lot to take in. Like this is a real s*x club where people are just f*****g all the time.

And my captor is running it.

Nope. I need to get the hell out of here. And this will probably be my only chance.

The bartender stops in front of me, a sturdy dude with cornrows and a scar over his right eye. He leans in and asks, "Wanna drink?"

I shake my head. "No. I'm not old enough to drink."

"You know, this is a twenty-one or older club."

I manage a strained smile, hoping my eyes convey the distress I can't voice. "I'm sure it is, but unfortunately, I don't have a choice but to be here."

His eyebrows knit together until he notices the collar around my neck. "Oh."

I'm being held against my will, and all he can say is "oh"?

Help me, asshole!

He turns to walk away, but I grab his wrist, making him look back at me. "Please help me! I'm being held here against my will. Do you think you can contact the police for me?" I whisper, even though no one else is around. Who knows if there are listening devices or cameras here.

He gives me a long, intense stare before silently acknowledging my request and disappearing into the back room. Alone at the counter, I nervously drum my fingers, imagining the chaos that will unfold when the police arrive. Diego hasn't sexually assaulted me or anything yet, but kidnapping and arson have to earn him some years in prison, right? And if I can somehow gather some evidence to prove he murdered my father, he'll be locked away for good, never to see the light of day again!

The back door swings open and the bartender emerges, followed by the devil himself. His calm and impassive demeanor masks the raging inferno in his eyes as they lock onto me.

Fuck, I'm in trouble!