Page 49 of Bound in Promise
Study your enemies.
I would’ve thought it’d be the first thing Angelo would do, but he’s hell-bent on stroking his male ego, drunk on the Kool-Aid about how women are inferior beings. He’s underestimating me and it’s going to be his downfall.
I can handle his games.
But I can’t handle his plans for my husband.
Especially not when Angelo turns me to face the men seated patiently at the long table, away from Dante. I can’t see what his men might be doing to my husband. A heavy weight settles on my shoulder as one of Angelo’s men steps forward to hold me in place.
“Bella,” Angelo whispers along the shell of my ear, and I can’t hold back my cringe when his hot breath licks up my skin. “These men have traveled far and wide to be here tonight. They’ve come for you. In about ten minutes, the bidding will open. And you will be going home with one of them.”
16
DANTE
Regret and guilt wash over me. I should’ve done something sooner.
I should’ve murdered Angelo Lombardi while I had the chance, should have stopped shielding Victoria from the kind of man I am. From knowing the truth about me.
Because this is worse than anything I’ve ever done to my targets.
This is, by far, worse than death.
I’m tied to a wooden chair, having been restrained after fighting free from Angelo’s men and taking two of the goons out in the effort. I didn’t plan on sitting through this. There’s no way I was going to just accept someone else leaving with my wife tonight, no matter what price they paid Angelo for the pleasure.
The bullet wound in my calf stings like a bitch, but I don’t let myself focus on the pain. I focus on the memory of each blow I landed before I was overpowered and restrained.
Before I was forced to become a member of the audience for this sick show.
Angelo will try and kill me after the auction—that’s a given. However, if I can create an opportunity for Victoria to make a run for the door, if I can give her a head start, she might stand a chance of escaping.
It’s the only play I have left.
Angelo’s men patted me down and took my gun away before we even got in his car. I’m unarmed and I’m furious at myself for not doing things differently. I never should have gotten in the fucking car, never should have let them take us to their turf.
I’ve failed Victoria. I don’t deserve her. Things never should have gotten to this point. She counted on me to protect her, not take advantage of her and allow myself to get caught up in a sexual fantasy—a romantic daydream—that I had no right to imagine.
Angelo and one of his men force Victoria on to the table and my skin crawls with revulsion as the men all but start to drool.
Some bald-headed motherfucker paws at her, pulling her to her knees before sliding his hands up her cropped shirt. He palms her breasts greedily, exposing her bra, and I barely resist the urge to scream and yell.
I could make all the noise I want, but Angelo would shut me up with a bullet before Victoria got the chance to run.
I try to breathe through my nose, my mouth, my fucking ears, but nothing settles me. My wife is being groped and fondled like a cheap doll. Baldy rubs a thumb over one of her nipples and starts to pull at the lace cup, working to free her tit.
That’s when my wife really loses her shit.
She rears back, kicking one leg out at the dude’s chest, nearly sending him and his chair toppling over. Victoria shoves herself backward to gain more space, but she’s only brought herself closer to the man seated behind her. He takes advantage, grabbing her by her biceps and yanking her into his chest.
The man she just ninja-kicked rises from his chair as the men laugh, murmuring about how feisty Victoria is, how fun it would be to break her.
Angelo stands to the side, not saying a word as he circles the table and studies the men and my wife. He knows he’s going to get big money for her. These men are fucking dogs, and they all have a fetish for unwilling women. Hell if I know what any of them do with their women when they’re done. Their victims probably end up in a ditch or at the bottom of the ocean. Victoria will become one more broken, used-up doll that they cast aside.
And who’s will even look for her besides her best friend?
I’ll be dead.
And so will she.
