Page 2 of Beautiful Desire

“Had enough yet?”

I don’t need to look at him to see the smile on his face. I can hear it in his voice.

Maybe I hit my head when I fell, because I reply, “No.”

Without saying a word, he lifts his leg up and kicks me in the stomach, causing me to cough and gasp for air. He thinks he’s won, but what he doesn’t realize is that I’ll continue to do this, even if it kills me.

I briefly hear low murmurs before I’m being hoisted in the air and over the shoulder of Enzo, one of my father’s goons. Knowing it’s useless to fight and scream, I lift my head and look directly at him. Victory is written all over his face.

Leaving my room, we walk down the hallway to the stairs and head for the front door instead of turning left to go to the cellar.

“Where are we going?”

That sadistic smile is back on my father’s face, and I already know I’m not going to like what he has to say.

“I had a very special night planned out for you, Arturo. But you had to go and ruin it with your theatrics. So now plans have changed.”

My body jostles around as we exit the house and walk down the front steps. After being upside down and the continuous movement, I’m beginning to get a little dizzy. I know if I throw up, it will be a sign of weakness to my father, and he’ll have to “teach me a lesson” to save face in front of his men. And after my disobedience, he could very well put a bullet in me.

We make it to the trunk of the car, and just when I think Enzo is going to put me down, I hear my father’s command, which shocks me.

“Put him in the trunk.”

Enzo stops, and I can feel his hesitation.

He must be as confused as I am, because my father roars, “Now, Enzo, unless you’d like to join him!”

Opening the trunk, he grabs hold of my body and flops me into the bed of the Mercedes.

“Maybe the ride will knock some sense back into you,” my father says before he closes the trunk down on me and everything goes black.

Wherever we’re going doesn’t seem to take that long, because after a couple of turns, the car stops, and I can hear footsteps on the pavement walking around the vehicle, getting closer until they finally stop. A good minute goes by before I hear anyone speak.

The trunk opens, and I’m met with my father and five of his men.

“Out!” he bellows at me.

Trying to figure out the best way to get out of the trunk, I fumble and catch myself before I fall on my face. Any trace of playfulness is replaced with his signature scowl.

As I come face-to-face with him, he looks me dead in the eye and speaks quietly, so only I can hear him. “Don’t fuck this up, Arturo. Youwilldo as I say and youwon’ttalk back to me, capisce?”

I know better than to try to go against my father right now, so I nod. “Si, Papa.”

“Bene. Andiamo. Siamo in ritardo.”Good. Let’s go. We’re late.

Walking in step beside my father, I finally take a look around and realize we’re at one of his warehouses. Our footsteps crunch on the mixture of gravel and asphalt beneath our designer shoes. With every step we take closer, a little part of me feels like it’s dying inside.

As soon as we enter the warehouse, I’m immediately blinded by the florescent lights illuminating the open space, with concrete floors and walls as far as the eye can see. The room is empty, minus my father’s men and a man tied to a chair…waiting forme.

His head is down, and his long black hair covers his face. Upon hearing our footsteps, he lifts his head. Seeing all of us approach, he whimpers behind the gag in his mouth and fights against his binding.

As we get closer, I realize it’s not a man, but ateenager. He’s wearing dark, baggy ripped jeans and a white t-shirt covered in dirt and blood.

He looks oddly familiar. I know him, but how?

Still frantic in the chair, he turns his full gaze my way, and I stop dead in my tracks.

“Massimo,” I whisper under my breath.

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