Forty Eight

An hour or two ago, I was threatened to sit in the back of Jacobs black Mercedes-Benz. After he had forced me into the back seat of his sedan, he forced me to conceal my eyes behind a black silk scarf.

Plummeting me into a world of darkness.

Imprisoning me in my state of fear without a sense of where he is taking me.

[It's a shame you've become a traitor to our family, Mila.]

"È un peccato che tu sia diventata un traditore della nostra famiglia, Mila." He said as he took my chin in his hand as his grip tightened he snarled. "Such a waste of a beautiful woman." He clicked his tongue.

I swallowed thickly, "The men in my family would have never raped me." I said with bitterness. "Or stood by and watched as Trent cruelly objectified me in front of hundreds of men through a live stream. I bet your mamas would be proud of the men they raised!"

Excruciating pain suddenly spread across the left side of my face. The bastard had slapped me with an open hand.

[Never talk about our mother's, bitch!!]

"Non parlare mai delle nostre madri, puttana!!" His voice was full of scornful hatred.

Italian men idolize their mothers, like men who loves receiving good head.

I bit down, trying not to crush my molars as I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing the pain he caused me to spread across my face.

I cleared my throat, snapping my head back to glare at him in complete silence as I cursed the shit out of him and prayed that his dick would shrivel up like a dried prune and fall off.

I loathe all men who dare to lay a hand on us females.

Regardless of the situation...

Full bloody stop!

---

I feel the car slowing down, we turn left and come to a complete standstill. The sound of waves crashing against the shoreline drifts in the air along with the smell of salty water.

Piha beach.

I was right!

I give my inner goddess a fist pump.

A minor triumph for us, I hope and pray that Aydem and Neriman can locate us using the information I recently supplied to Aydem.

My door opens and I am forcibly being yanked out of the car. "Come on. The parties just about to get started." Jacob says with excitement lacing his deep accented voice. "It's a pity the bratva have already taken their leave."

"Only pussies threaten women, Jacob," I mutter with contempt. "Real men, put their lives on the line to save women who are being abused."

A boisterous chuckle leaves his large body. "Funny that. I don't see any women who are being abused." He clicks his tongue as he pushes me forward.

Gesturing me to walk.

"Just like you turned a blind eye when your younger sister was getting smacked around by her abusive boyfriend back in high school."

I back in his face as I remember when Trent had brought it up at the dinner table one night. He was so bloodthirsty he wanted to hunt the man down and make an example out of him.

[Your family is protected by the mafia. We are one and will avenge those who have done us wrong!]

"La tua famiglia è protetta dalla mafia. Siamo uno e vendicheremo chi ha sbagliato!" He roared, slamming his empty shot glass down against the tabletop. "Past, present, or future. We. Will. Make. Them. Pay!!"

The men cheered him on like he was amping them up for their next big rugby tournament. A contact sport that doesn't require you to take someone out permanently.

Unexpectedly I find myself being dragged and shoved against something cold and hard. Jacob tears the silk scarf from my face, I squint as the sunlight hits me and I wait for my eyes to adjust before my gaze clashes with Jacobs.

His palm snakes around the base of my neck, making swallowing difficult as he gradually increases the pressure on his tightening grasp.

"You don't know shit!" He hisses.

His face is close to mine, so close that I can feel his hot, harsh breath fanning my face and I swear I can see the devil dancing in his dark irises.

"No one does." His other hand starts to frantically unbuckle his pants, the jingling sound of metal hitting metal puts me on full alert and I increasingly become aware of his intentions.

I start to struggle against him as I slowly start to feel my face turn red. His grip tightens, causing a throbbing sensation to travel up my neck and disperse across my temples.

[Since you can't shut your mouth. I'll put something in there to silence you.]

"Visto che non sai chiudere la bocca. Ci metto dentro qualcosa per metterti a tacere." His voice is hoarse, out of control and full of panic.

I shake my head, feeling the veins on my temples protruding and I fight to breathe the more I struggle in his grasp.

Tears slide down the sides of my cheeks, leaving a trail of heartache, fear and regret down my feverish skin.

I regret the words that slipped out between my lips. Having no filter has always been my downfall along with me trying to take back control of my life.

My son needs me, he is here and I am so close to finally getting a glimpse of him.

Jacob releases his grip around my neck. I bend over, coughing, spluttering, and wheezing as I try to suck air into my oxygen-depleted lungs.

"On your knees, bitch and get to work." His voice is cruel, tormenting and abusive.

He forces me down to my knees with his hands on my head, my left knee hits the stoned concrete first then my right knee. He savagely gathers my hair into his hand, his erect cock is millimetres from my face and I feel sick to my stomach.

"Bite it and I'll slit little Sandros throat right in front of you." He growls, looking down at me with hooded eyes.

My hands are clasped around his thighs, and my entire body trembles. "Pretty princess, please open wide..." He chuckles as he propels his hips forward.

"Gods no!!!...." My inner goddess screams.