Page 144 of King of Obsession

He canted back and studied me in the weak light, patting my cheek.

‘We’re here now,’ he added.

His words had the desired effect, and a measure of my burden lifted.

‘Grazie mille.’

I gazed at the men who eased from the vehicles, stretching their arms and legs, silhouetted in the early morning mist.

Mauri and our finest capos. Mattia, Leonardo, Andrea, Francesco and Tommaso.

‘We’ve got weapons, ammo, and soldiers. We’re primed togo when you are,’ our consigliere announced.

‘I’m ready now,’ I growled.

‘Sì, non preoccuparti, fratello. Franco Conti won’t know what hit ‘em.’

I curled my lip. ‘We ride at dawn.’

‘Indeed.’

CLEO

A weak light falling on my face jerked me awake.

I shook my head, disoriented, as I stared at the unfamiliar room, the spare cot, and the sparse furnishings.

I glanced out the window at a soulless backyard and realized it was after daybreak. And that I’d spent the night in a tiny, ugly bedroom in the Conti compound.

The experiences of the night came rushing to mind, and I groaned.

I recalled how Franco and Rocco had dragged me out of the car and thrown me in here.

As I fell to the ground, Rocco exited with a smirk, leaving me with his lecherous father.

Franco had approached me, eyes shining with lust.

‘Finally mine.’

‘You’re out of your mind, delulu.’

His hands had pawed at me, and he’d tried to force his slobbering lips on me.

At the same time, he’d undone his trousers, releasing hisshaft, groaning as he dry rutted against my thigh.

He’d heaved against me, about to shudder into his sordid release, when I’d bitten his flopping, wet lips, raised a knee, and slammed it into his groin.

Clutching his wounded jewels, he’d slipped to his knees, where he’d lain, crying out.

I’d taken the opportunity to kick his ribs, his yells for help filling me with a macabre triumph.

Rocco had rushed in and, with a snarl, slapped me, breaking my lip.

The cut on my mouth, the mark on my face, no doubt given the trail of crimson on my hand, had been worth it.

‘You won’t be able to fight me tomorrow,’ Franco promised, leaning on his son, attempting to cover up his embarrassment.

Both Conti scum had scowled at me before hurrying out of the room, locking me in.

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