Page 120 of Immoral

His stale breath wafts across my face. He seethes, "You will not disobey me. Now, put it on." He studies me for a few moments, challenging me to defy him, and pulling my neck harder.

I want to, but the pain is too intense. A tear falls down my cheek. "Let go! You're hurting me!"

He moves his face even closer to mine. "If you think this hurts, go ahead and try to argue with me again."

My lips tremble harder. I squeeze my lids shut, wishing all of this were a nightmare. The fighter in me backs down. The sharp ache in my neck is too much. I choke out, "I'll put it on."

He tugs even harder, holding me firm so I can't move.

"Please," I beg through tears.

He finally releases me, and I slowly move my neck back to a normal position. It's still throbbing when he holds the jacket in front of me again.

I take it, slip my arms through the sleeves, and put the hood up.

Uberto tucks some hairs that escaped under the fabric and sneers at me. "We're going inside. I'll slice you into a million pieces if you attempt to run. Do you understand?"

My stomach lurches. I sniffle, nod, and try to get it to stop somersaulting.

"I want to hear words," he demands.

A lump is lodged in my throat. I whisper, "Yes."

He knocks on the window, and the man from the front seat opens the door. A cold blast of air hits me, but the fresh oxygen fills my lungs. It's a relief but doesn't last long. Uberto guides me up the steps and leads me into the building.

Two scary-looking men stand at the bottom of the steps near the door. They're huge, and I get the impression they spend a lot of time in the gym. There's no doubt they'd crush me in an instant if I attempted to run. One checks me out, scanning every inch of my body. He licks his lips as Uberto warns, "Don't even think about it."

The guard's eyes dart from my body to Uberto's scowl. "Sorry, boss."

Uberto slaps my ass and points up the staircase. "Go."

I open my mouth to protest, but his eyes darken evilly. I snap it shut and do as told. Anxiety expands in my chest, giving me heart palpitations. Every step I take feels like I'm walking toward my death.

At the top of the stairs is a door. My mind screams not to open it. I freeze, and Uberto pushes into me, towering over my petite frame. He barks, "Did I tell you to stop?"

I tilt my head up, attempting another pointless plea. "Please. Let me go."

A tight smile forms on his lips, making the sharp pain in my chest increase. "You know, it's quite entertaining watching you beg me for your life." His smile falls, and he yanks my hair again.

"Stop!" I cry out.

Disdain overpowers his expression. In a low voice, he spouts, "It's time I show you what we do with Marinos." He studies me for ten seconds then spit flies out of his mouth as he snarls, "Mrs. Marino."

A deep chill runs down my spine. I shudder, and more tears fall while I curse myself for not thinking before I ran out of the fashion show. If I had, my bodyguards would have offered me some protection. I wouldn't have been in that taxi. I would have my phone, and Gianni could at least track me if this happened.

Right now, I have no way for him to find me.

My dread intensifies when I think about how Uberto seemed to slide off the radar the last month. I try not to think about the low odds of Gianni finding me or wonder if he even knows I'm gone.

Then it hits me that he might still be locked up in the precinct. If that's the case, I'm doomed.

A wave of nausea washes over me again. I put my hand on my stomach and the other over my mouth. Sweat breaks out on my forehead.

"Well, don't get weak on me now. That won't be any fun," Uberto sarcastically states, knocks on the door, then turns the knob. He shoves me inside.

I almost trip but grab the arm of the man positioned next to the entryway.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Uberto taunts. "Once a whore, always a whore."

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