A Night With The Ruthless Mafia Billionaire

Chapter Five

“Dane.” I heard a voice whisper, its authority unmistakable even in its distorted state.

“Yes, boss.” Came the submissive reply, the voices drifting in from outside the window, down the street.

I was sleeping in an uncomfortable position. Something was biting away at my wrists but I couldn’t open my eyes and investigate. The bliss of uninterrupted sleep beckoned, a rare luxury without Katie’s pil—candies.

Just as I began to slip back into unconsciousness, a deluge of icy water cascaded over my head. I jolted upright, gasping for air. For a moment, I believed I was drowning, submerged in a body of water. In my panic, I tried to leap from the bed, only to find my legs and hands bound by chains, rendering me immobile.

Confusion clouded my mind as I struggled to comprehend the situation. What was happening?

My disorientation persisted, but then like a crashing wave, my memories came flooding back. I had been abducted. That was the last thing I remembered. Casting my gaze around I realized that I hadn’t been sleeping in the comfort of my bed as I had initially believed. Instead, I found myself sprawled on the dirty, blood-stained ground.

I found myself bound up by thick chains, their unyielding grip preventing any hope of escape. Standing a few feet away was a tall burly man, clutching a metal bucket in his hands—the very vessel responsible for drenching me with cold water.

And there, directly before me stood David Marchetti himself. His piercing gaze bore into me, sending an icy shiver down my spine that surpassed even the chilling sensation of water that still clung to my skin.

It was not surprised that he was the one who had abducted me. The same thing had happened two years ago, and after our unfortunate encounter earlier that day, I had a sinking feeling that this moment was inevitable.

"Seems like you were expecting to see me here." David remarked, his voice dripping with a toxic blend of arrogance and menace.

“Indeed I was, after all, kidnapping women is your forte, isn’t it?” I retorted, unable to hold back the bitterness in my tone. If this was to be my final moment alive, I refused to go down without a fight.

His jaw clenched in irritation, and he shot a commanding glance at the burly man standing by his side. "Leave!" he barked, his voice filled with authority. Without hesitation, the man disappeared into the shadows, leaving us alone in the dimly lit room.

"What do you plan to do with me?" I asked, my voice devoid of my true emotion—fear. "Are you going to kill me, just like you did to my parents, you filthy bastard?!"

There was no point in holding back anymore. I was defenseless, trapped with no means of escape. I had decided to voice the words I had been too scared to say earlier that day. If this was going to be my end, I would be damned before making it easier for him by keeping my mouth shut.

In an instant, he stood before me, his grip on my face so tight that my cheeks throbbed with pain.

"That damn mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble if you don't learn to keep your mouth shut." He threatened, his intense gaze sending shivers down my spine. I met his stare with a mix of anger and hatred, refusing to back down.

"The worst you can do is kill me. Well, guess what? I've got nothing left to lose. You took everything from me. So you might as well do your worst now!" I seethed, fury burning in my eyes.

"You're wrong. The worst I can do," he interrupted, his hand leaving my face to wrap around my throat, forcefully pulling me closer until our faces were mere inches apart. "Is not to kill you. I'm damn good at making people suffer, to the point where they'll beg for death."

"And that's what fulfills you, huh? Boasting about torture," I scoffed, laughing in his face, mocking him. "Must be a disappointment to your mother, knowing what you've become after carrying you for nine months—" Before I could finish my sentence, he shoved me backward, slamming me into the wall with such force that I feared for a moment my skull had split in two.

"Don't you dare speak of my mother!" he growled through clenched teeth, his strong hands now wrapped tightly around my neck, squeezing with a bone-crushing grip.

I found myself completely defenseless, unable to break free from his vice-like grip. No matter how hard I struggled, it was clear that David possessed far greater strength than me. But at that moment, a spark of defiance ignited within me, and I knew I had to fight back.

I resorted to a desperate act. With all my might, I spat in his face, watching as my thick saliva trickled down his cheek. Enraged, he slammed me against the wall once again, his anger heightening. Gasping for breath, I crumpled to the floor, my body feeling lifeless and weak.

"Dane," he roared, his voice filled with fury, as he reached for a napkin to wipe his face clean. The mere mention of Dane's name sent shivers down my spine, knowing that he was about to carry out David's silent orders. Three other men, built like Dane with their towering frames and intimidating presence, walked into the room, their eyes filled with a chilling determination.

Before I could fully comprehend what was happening, I was lifted off the ground by two of the men, their grip unyielding and unbreakable. Panic surged through me as I screamed, desperately trying to wriggle free from their hold, but it was a futile struggle.

Dane pushed forward a large, round wooden board, its surface stained with dried blood and marked with countless knife scars. It was only then that the purpose of the board became horrifyingly clear.

"What are you doing? Let me go!" I cried out, my voice filled with fear and desperation, as they began to chain me against the board. I fought with every ounce of strength I had left, but the chains held me firmly in place, rendering me completely immobilized.

David calmly settled into a chair just a few feet away, crossing his left leg over his right, a sinister smile playing on his lips. The anticipation in the room was tangible, and I could feel the weight of impending doom hanging over me.

"What is this? What evil game are you planning to play?" I gasped, my breath heavy from screaming and exertion.

David cast a cold glance at Dane, who instantly understood his silent command. With a flick of a switch, the board slowly began to rotate, my body pressed against it. Panic surged through me as the rotation gradually picked up speed, and I let out a piercing scream.

“We’re playing a game called darts.” He said just as the first knife came flying at me.