Page 19 of Revenge Vows

“Oh, I’ll speak for myself. If you’re looking for a clean subject, it’s not me.”

I ignore my idiot brothers and turn to the doctor. “You’re saying that we need to get a clean subject to try these out on?” I ask to reaffirm. The doctor nods.

I look at the boxes of the new miracle drug we just had shipped straight from Colombia. This shipment cost four million dollars and came with promises that America had seen nothing like this.

Coke is a good business. The cops and the FBI get in the way of our business so much that we end up losing profit because we always need to grease the wheels.

With this new drug, it’ll take them some time to catch up. Hopefully, in that time, we will have dusted off our hands and moved on to the next new miracle drug concocted by some other crazy scientist in a nameless lab.

It’s these new drugs that push the market forward and keep our territory strong. We get the good stuff before others do.

But the downside is that to make sure the drugs aren’t an instant death sentence and we have to run certain tests. We have a person ingest or inject the drug, and our doctor monitors them for side effects.

We have had a few cases where things went south, but it doesn’t matter, because the people I test our drugs on are men facing a death sentence anyway.

They are men I have locked up in my basement because I have no further use for them. They are typically traitors or bastards who’ve abused their women. Some of them might have stolen from me, and others are losers who have been sent to spy on me and were dumb enough to get caught.

I look at the doctor, deep in thought.

“I don’t have access to the kind of people that you claim you need to test on,” I admit.

“Oh!” Bunny says suddenly. “What about the girl in the basement?”

“We don’t hurt women, Bunny. Teach them lessons, sure. But we don’t hurt them,” I say.

“We aren’t hurting her, are we? The drug is probably harmless,” Donatello says. “Well, more or less,” he adds.

I inhale sharply. “No,” I reply.

“Why not? You’ve got to have a good reason for refusing. We have to get this drug out there before the competition gets their hands on it,” he presses.

“Donny has a point, man. You did say you’d figure out a way to use it for her. Well, we have one now,” Bunny says.

I sigh. “It’s still a no from me,” I say firmly. “I married her, after all.” I don’t want to explain to them that she gave me one of the most shatteringly amazing orgasms I’ve ever experienced in my club. I don’t want to tell them that she makes me feel protective of her and that I don’t want her to be harmed. I don’t want to examine why any of these things is true.

Donatello turns to me with interest in his eyes. “Why do you still have that wedding ring on? You know that whole thing was a farce.”

Bunny chuckles to himself, but he falls silent as I glare at him.

“We can’t sit by and do nothing, Antonio. The doctor is here to take care of her if anything goes wrong. I don’t see why we’re arguing about this,” Donatello says.

I know I have no excuse for saying no. I’ve barely seen her over the past few days. She isn’t proving to be willing to compromise, and she hasn’t softened toward me at all. While I admire her spirit, I’m getting annoyed by her lack of compliance.

But I still don’t want to pull her out of the basement just to have a random drug injected into her. I can’t allow that.

“She’ll be fine. Just let us run the tests, please,” Donatello says.

I realize that I’m in a situation where I can’t say no. I oblige, but I have the maids clean her up first. If she is going to be drugged, the least I can do for her is to let her have her humanity back for a moment or two.

I don’t know why I’m being so soft with her. My brothers aren’t fooled by my, “we don’t hurt women”, mantra, and neither am I, honestly. I just don’t want to hurt this woman, for reasons that escape me. I even feel bad for having slapped her the other day, despite the fact that she deserved it.

I watch with eagle eyes as she is led into the study by the maid. She looks thin. Her cheeks are hollow, and her arms are bonier than ever.

“The guards say she refuses to eat any of the food that is given to her,” the maid says, as if she’s reading my mind.

“You’re going to wish you had chosen to eat,” Bunny says to her. She doesn’t move a single facial muscle. She allows the maid to lead her to a chair, and she sits quietly, staring into space. I notice how bloodshot her eyes are. She clearly hasn’t been getting any sleep either.

“Finally,” Donatello says as the doctor prepares his syringe.

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