Page 90 of Vicious Heir

ONE WEEK LATER

“You know the drill now, Barbie,” the guard says as she pushes me forward forcefully, and I fall to my knees.

An electric pain shoots through my abdomen when I land against a metal heat register on the floor.

“Get up and get walking, bitch. You want your first tour to be fucked from the start?”

I right myself and run my palm over my bump that’s finally starting to grow, silently willing my baby to be okay.

I’ve been here one week.

One week of this fucking hell.

This fucking disgusting excuse for a place where the women are nothing more than things to be bred, and the babies are then sold to the highest bidders. Men are also held captive, force-fed various drugs, and required to rape the women and produce the babies for Gabriel and his henchmen.

I have never, in all my life, even in my time in captivity, seen something so heinous or gut-wrenching.

We walk toward Gabriel’s office, and through the glass pane, I see two people, a man and woman sitting in front of his desk as he relaxes in the oversized chair behind it, acting like he’s having the time of his pitiful life. The smile on his face stretches from ear to ear as he cackles about something.

My female guard knocks three times on the door, startling Gabriel and causing the three of them to stand and exit the office.

“Evelina here will take good care of you two,” Gabriel says, giving me a fake smile as he motions them toward me.

The moment their backs are to him, he shoots me a threatening smile and turns his back on me.

Showtime.

I do as I’m told like Jeffrey said, believing his word for some unknown reason, even though I haven’t been able to talk to him since that first day I got here. I think part of me just needs to believe in something right now.

I introduce myself to the couple, who are just as disgusting as Gabriel and everyone else here, and start leading them throughout the compound.

The woman keeps in step with me, but the man lingers behind in front of my guard. I look at the woman out of the corner of my eye, and her fur coat makes me sick. Come to a whole-ass breeding facility with your fur coat and dripping in diamonds to buy a baby on the black market. What a piece of trash.

“Here’s where our breeders fulfill their obligations.” I say the words from the script as told, as practiced, as we walk up to the viewing area of the breeding room.

I do my best not to look inside the room, wanting desperately not to see what I know is happening.

The 10:00 a.m. time slot is Niccolò’s time.

It doesn’t matter that he’s on drugs or has no idea what he’s doing, and I can tell he doesn’t by the glazed-over, long-gone look in his eyes. It’s still painful to know he’s fucking another woman and intending to get her pregnant.

Doesn’t matter that he’s not doing this willingly.

Doesn’t matter that he probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it at all.

It still fucking hurts.

I look inside the viewing room, focusing on the far back corner so I don’t see Niccolò, and I give the rehearsed speech about how we carefully pair each man and woman together based on the most optimal genes for future babies. All the while, I’m doing my very best not to have a full-on mental breakdown in front of the couple and my guard.

I glance over at the couple, who don’t even look fazed as their gazes roam over the ten long tables.

Each table is sterile, shiny metal. The women are strapped down, not drugged for obvious reasons, and the men are on top of them, pounding into them like fucking warrior beasts on a drug-fueled mission.

My stomach rolls, and I swear I see stars for a second before I pull myself together again.

I had no idea places like this even existed until a week ago. I knew the world was dark and unforgiving, but I had no idea actual breeding centers are a thing.

Leave it to Gabriel fucking Amato to have gotten himself into something like this.

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