Subgated by the mafia

6. Rose

I spent a whole day without hearing from my captors.

A day on which a plump, gray-haired lady with a serious countenance brought me several dishes in an attempt to get me to eat, but I didn't want any of them. I despised them all because I simply had no appetite; my stomach had not only shut down, but I had been vomiting in reaction to something.

It was possible that the drug I had been given was being flushed out of my system.

“You must eat, Miss," said the woman in perfect British English. “If he finds out you haven't eaten anything, it will be worse for you. Take my advice.”

“I don't want to eat, and I can't eat," I answered tiredly after taking a bath. “I feel bad; I still feel sick, and food is the last thing I need... And the master should care little or nothing if I eat or not.”

She frowned and pursed her lips in annoyance.

“I'll get you something for your discomfort, so you can eat later," she replied, ignoring my words.

With that, she left the room, then locked the door and left me locked in.

There was no doubt that my buyer had given express orders not to let me leave. That was a problem because I wanted to explore my surroundings in order to study them. However, in my state of complete weakness, walking felt like a laborious task because of how tired I was.

I knew it was morning because of the stunning sunset streaming through the window, but I didn't know the hours and could infer that the mix of Jet Lag with whatever my abductees gave me was taking its toll on my body, enough to just want to sleep.

That's what I tried to do, but I heard keys in the door, and when it opened, in walked a woman who had probably won many beauty pageants. She was Italian beauty incarnate: brown hair, light skin toasted by the sun, a slender figure, and an elegance that she exposed under her black dress. She had a height that differed from mine by a lot, with red heels that made her look much more imposing.

Her brown eyes looked at me like someone looking at an insect, and then she smiled as if she had gotten prey. That gesture made her delicate features stand out that much more.

At that moment, I knew it was going to be a problem.

“You must be Matteo's new pet," she said, looking me up and down without dissimulation, and the name was registered right away. “You're not as pretty as I assumed you would be.”

I could have taken that as an offense, but I didn't care.

I wasn't the most stunning woman around; I knew that and assumed as much. But that didn't mean I was hideous; on the contrary, I possessed the American features that made me stand out as the girl next door.

For that very reason, I ignored her, which annoyed her.

“I know you're American and you understand me, so don't play dumb," she spat angrily.

And that was how she showed her true colors.

It was obvious that she was a regular lover of Matteo's, one who not only felt insecure but was also furious that her "man" had bought a woman who would take up his attention span. Which was absolutely degrading.

“I have a headache, I feel sick, and I don't have time for whatever it is you want," I told her wearily.

That upset her.

She walked over to the bed and grabbed my arm forcefully, pulling me up in a hurry.

"You're not going to treat me like that, your American trash," he said, an inch from my face. “I am Giulia Basile, the daughter of the Consigliere of the Camorra, the future wife of Matteo, and you owe me respect.”

I shook my head in disbelief that a woman like her could reach this level.

Using what little strength, I had left, I shook off her arm and stepped away from her.

“Don't touch me.”

She laughed.

“I have no need to touch you; after Matteo uses you until he squeezes you like an old rag, he'll throw you to the dogs, and he'll send you to one of the organization's bars for all the men who want to test you to do so," she said with a certainty that pierced my bones. He'll make you get back that $50 million he wasted on you.”

“Get out of this room," I asked politely after opening the door. It was my attempt not to lose my cool. “I heard what she had to say, and I got the message.”

She walked as if she owned and ruled the place, ignoring me completely.

“You didn't hear everything, American trash; I haven't even said the best parts yet.”

I hated the fact that she knew that telling me all these things was upsetting me. And while I could be as strong as I needed to be, I was afraid of everything because, unlike me, she knew where she stood.

“Get out," I demanded this time in a serious tone.

“After all the men are bored with you, you will be sold for a pittance to some attempted Russian gulag replica to be fresh meat for the fighters. They'll videotape you being abused until you die and are nothing but waste for the hungry hounds on the street to feed on," he said with a certainty that sent shivers down my spine. “They will make a lot of money from selling your video on the Deep Web, and believe me, by that time, not only will Matteo have forgotten you, but you will be nothing more than inexistent dust that your vulgar and disgusting family could never bury.”

I was a peaceful being until the right button was touched.

The woman had hit on my weakness, one I didn't even know about, but which turned out to be all she needed to turn me into the Hulk. My reaction was to give her a slap that immediately turned into a sequence of slaps that left her stunned, something I took advantage of to throw her to the ground, and blinded by anger, I climbed on top of her to continue hitting her with a force that made it impossible for her to get me up.

I grabbed her by the hair with rage and told her:

“You don't mess with my family!”

She began to scream uncontrollably, which made me scratch her face without further ado.

“Help! She's going to kill me!”

I wasn't aware of the people who came in until someone grabbed me by the waist and carried me to let go, but it didn't stop me from being able to pull a strand of the jerk's hair out.

“What the hell is going on here?”

The lady who had been trying to get me to eat was holding a tray with pills, what looked like tea, and a glass of juice. She was looking at us in confusion, as if she didn't understand what was going on, and so an answer mattered.

Giulia, as she had identified herself, got up from the floor, cursing in Italian as she wiped the blood from her cheek.

“This American scum is going to pay for having touched me," she shouted angrily. "Take her to the dungeon! She'll learn her lesson there; no one dares touch me.”

The man who was holding me dared to charge me, but the woman left the tray on the side table and stepped in.

“No, wait, the gentleman must…”

“Get out of the way, Charlotte!” Giulia spat. “If you don't want to end up the same or worse than her, don't get in my way.”

With that, she pushed her away, and two men carried me away while I kicked hard. No one in the house stood in the way. I was not aware of where they were taking me; I only realized that they took me down the stairs until they threw me on a concrete floor without any care.

The blow I received on my hip made me groan in pain.

“Strip her naked, take off that collar, and bring the hose," Giulia ordered before looking at me. “You'll pay for damaging my face, your filthy scum.”

One of the men approached me and grabbed me by the hands and another by the legs as he stripped me of the pajama robe that covered me. I started screaming and jerking hard, much more so when they tried unsuccessfully to remove my collar.

“Let go of me!”

After undressing me, one of them dared to chain me to the floor, and the man who had left come in with a high-pressure hose. My nerves increased at the prospect ahead.

“Give this w*********h a lesson.”

The man holding the hose opened it, and I felt the water hit hard. It was too painful because not only was the pressure pushing me to the floor, but the coldness of the water made the sensation much, much more intense.

“Enough!”

I couldn't speak; I couldn't move or move away; it was horrible, so much so that the cold made my bones numb in such a way that the shivering only brought me to tears. It was a long time before they turned off the faucet, and hypothermia engulfed me.

“It's so easy to get rid of toys like you," said Giulia with a demonic smile. “I hope you rot in hell.”

She kicked me in the head and made me spit blood.