THE MAFIA KING'S LITTLE PET

Chapter 5

The tears streaming down her face turned hot with fury as her emotions shifted from despair to rage. Her trembling hands clenched into fists as she glared at him, her voice coming out hoarse but filled with venom.

“I hate you,” Esmeralda seethed, her voice laced with a cold fury she had never felt before. “I swear, Diego, I will make you pay for this. You won’t get away with what you’ve done to me.”

Diego paused in the middle of adjusting his cufflinks, his dark eyes flicking up to meet hers, amusement dancing in them. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as if he found her anger laughable. “Really, Esme? You’re going to make me pay? How exactly do you plan on doing that? You can’t even stand up without my permission.”

He gestured to the ropes binding her to the chair, his smirk deepening. “Look at you. Pathetic. Tied up, helpless, and at my mercy. You don’t have the power to make me pay for anything.”

Esmeralda strained against the ropes, her wrists burning from the effort as she tried to pull herself free. But the binds were too tight. Panic surged through her as she struggled, her breaths coming faster and more ragged. She refused to let him see the fear creeping into her heart, though. She glared at him, her hatred burning hotter with each passing second.

Diego stepped toward her, towering over her as he continued to button his shirt and pull on his jacket. His movements were slow and deliberate, the cruel enjoyment never leaving his face. “I’ll tell you what, Esme. I have an important meeting to attend, but don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.”

He reached for his tie, pulling it over his neck and adjusting it with precision. “When I come back, we can start over again. Now that you know the truth, there’s no more need for lies. We can build something new. Despite how boring you are… I’m still willing to keep you as my wife. Isn’t that nice of me?”

Esmeralda's stomach churned, her revulsion mixing with the rage boiling inside her. His arrogance was insufferable, but more than that, his ability to dehumanize her, to reduce her to nothing but a tool, an object, sickened her to her core.

She pulled harder against the ropes, gritting her teeth as she felt her wrists rub raw. “I’d rather die than stay with you.”

Diego’s laugh filled the room, cruel and mocking. “We’ll see about that,” he said smoothly. “I think you’ll come around. After all, you’ve got nowhere else to go.”

As he finished adjusting his suit, the bathroom door behind him swung open, and Esmeralda’s gaze shifted in shock. She hadn’t even realized Bianca had left the room, let alone returned. The woman stepped out, fully dressed, her expression unreadable as she adjusted her dress. Her presence was a slap in the face Esmeralda hadn’t anticipated. She had been so absorbed in her horror with Diego that she hadn’t even registered Bianca’s involvement, but now it became all too clear.

Bianca, who had always been in the background, was now standing beside Diego like a silent accomplice. She must have known all along. Esmeralda’s blood ran cold as realization washed over her. They were in this together.

“You…” Esmeralda’s voice trembled with disbelief as she locked eyes with Bianca. “You were a part of this? You helped him?”

Bianca didn’t respond, her face remaining expressionless as she glanced at Diego not wanting to speak.

Diego’s smirk widened as he watched Esmeralda’s realization sink in. “Oh, come on. She was an important part of all of these, a secretary who not only knows how to write up fake contracts but also f**k like a bitch.”

Esmeralda’s heart shattered again at his words.

Diego turned toward the door, motioning for Bianca to follow him. “Now, we’ve got business to attend to, but like I said, I’ll be back soon. Don't go anywhere darling?" He chuckled staring at the ropes binding her to the chair. "We have a lot to talk about when I return.”

As he opened the door, Esmeralda screamed, her voice raw with desperation and rage. “You bastard! I’ll make you regret this, Diego! Do you hear me? You’ll pay for this!”

Diego paused for a moment, glancing over his shoulder with an amused smile. “You’re welcome to try, Esme.”

And with that, he and Bianca left the room, the door slamming shut behind them, leaving Esmeralda bound to the chair, trembling with fury and helplessness. Her wrists throbbed, her mind racing with a thousand questions.

Tears welled in her eyes again, but this time they were tears of rage, not despair.

_ _ _

Meanwhile, in another part of town. The night was thick with rain, the downpour relentless as it beat against the windshield of the black sedan making its way up the winding road.

The heavy rumble of the engine barely cut through the sound of the storm, and the world outside the car seemed blurred by the rain. Inside the car, Santiago Torres sat in the backseat, his silhouette framed by the faint glow of his cigarette as he took a slow drag.

Santiago, one of the most feared mafia bosses on the East Coast, was a man known for his precision, his ruthlessness, and his ability to maintain control in every situation.

The driver turned the car into the long driveway that led to the Torres estate. As the headlights cut through the night, something caught the driver's eye, something lying on the ground near the gate.

“Boss,” the driver called out, his voice tense as he slowed the car to a stop. “There’s something... someone lying by the gate.”

Santiago's brows furrowed as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, his sharp eyes narrowing as he leaned forward. “What do you mean, someone?” he asked, his voice low and commanding.

The driver pointed toward the figure barely illuminated by the headlights. “It’s a woman. She looks hurt.”

Santiago’s hand instinctively reached for the gun in his coat pocket as he extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray. “Pull up closer,” he ordered, his voice calm but with an underlying edge of tension. He wasn’t a man who took chances, not in his line of work.

As the car rolled forward, the woman’s figure became clearer. She was lying face down, rain pouring over her prone body, her clothes soaked through, and one of her hands clutching something tightly to her chest. Santiago’s instincts screamed danger, but something about the scene seemed wrong, this wasn’t the work of a professional hit, nor did it seem like a random accident.

The driver stopped the car just feet away from the woman and immediately jumped out, umbrella in hand. He quickly moved to Santiago’s side of the car, holding the umbrella over him as the boss stepped out, his eyes locked on the unmoving figure ahead. Santiago’s polished shoes splashed in the shallow puddles as he approached cautiously, his hand never leaving the grip of his gun.

“Check her face. I can’t see anything through all this damn rain,” Santiago ordered, his voice cool but laced with authority.

The driver bent down, gently brushing aside the wet strands of hair covering the woman’s face. His breath hitched as he recognized her features, but he quickly looked back up at Santiago, his voice wavering slightly. “Boss… it’s Mr. Saviano's daughter.”

"Esme?" Santiago froze as he muttered her name.