Chapter 4
799 Words
Back in the office of the club, the group of rough necks stood over Lucia’s body. She was breathing, but just barely.
They continued to f**k her anyway. Her aged battered hole begged for mercy.
Mariselle groaned softly from where she lay on the floor. Her eyes fluttered open. Blurry shapes, muffled sounds. Her head pounded. It felt as though the room was spinning each time she blinked.
She sat up slowly, pain shooting through her temple, clamming cold sweat washed over her. She could hear her heartbeat thudding in her ears. Then she saw her.
Lucia could barely breath.
She was almost knocked out. Bruised. Barely moving.
“No…stop!! Stop what you are doing to her!” Mariselle whispered. She tried to crawl toward her, but a boot landed hard in front of her, stopping her.
The man who had slapped her earlier knelt beside her, gripping her jaw tight.
“Don’t worry, pretty thing. You’re next.”
Mariselle didn’t cry this time.
She stared up at him, her eyes burning with uncontrollable rage, if she had her way she would stab him with her eyes.
***
Meanwhile, back in Carlo’s private study, he exhaled deeply, blowing a thick cloud of smoke into the air. He looked down at his phone, his facial expression was more of observant. Then, after a long moment of silence, he pressed the intercom button on his desk.
“I wan’t you to keep f*****g that b***h until I’m doing scrutinizing these records,” he said coldly.
Manuel still slumped in the chair, chains rattling as he struggled to lift his head. Blood stained his collar. His breath was uneven.
Carlo leaned closer, eyes burning with quiet rage.
“You know,” he began, voice calm, “I’ve been watching the books closely for the past six months.”
Manuel looked up, barely able to focus. “W-what?”
“I noticed the shortages,” Carlo said slowly, flicking ash from his cigar. “The missing grams. The delayed payments. The shift in your club’s numbers. I saw it all.”
“I didn’t—” Manuel began.
Carlo raised his voice slightly. “I said I saw it, Manuel. And I kept quiet. You know why?”
Manuel shook his head slowly.
“Because I wanted to believe you,” Carlo continued. “Because you’ve served me well for years. I thought, maybe you were under pressure. Maybe it was temporary. Maybe you’d fix it yourself.”
He leaned back in his chair, tapping the cigar gently against the ashtray.
“But now? You bring me excuses. Lies. You let your wife be f****d like a c*m rag doll. And still, you give me nothing but nonsense.”
Manuel whimpered. “Please, Don Carlo. I just need a little more time. I swear to you, I’ll make it right.”
Carlo looked directly at the screen, his face suddenly hard.
“No more time.”
He turned his head slightly and snapped his fingers. “Shoot him.”
A voice responded immediately.
“Where?”
“The leg. Don’t you dare question me!”
Before Manuel could even process it, a deafening bang echoed through the call. A sharp scream tore from his throat as the bullet tore through his thigh. Blood spurted out, soaking his trousers and the floor beneath him.
He howled in agony. “God! Aghhh! Please!”
“Now,” Carlo said, rising from his chair slowly, “bring me the girl.”
There was a pause. “Sir?”
“Mariselle. Bring her to me,” Carlo repeated, his voice flat. “Alive. I want her clean. I’ll deal with her myself.”
Manuel’s tear-streaked face turned pale. “No… No, please, Carlo! Leave her out of this!”
“She’s not out of this,” Carlo replied coldly. “She’s your daughter. Which means her body is collateral.”
“She’s pregnant!” Manuel screamed. “For God’s sake, she’s having a baby!”
“All the more reason to keep her close,” Carlo said. “Consider her… insurance.”
“Carlo, please!” Manuel cried, barely able to breathe through the pain. “I’ll give you anything—anything! I’ll sell the club. I’ll get the money. Just let her go!”
Carlo stared at the screen, unblinking. “She will return to you,” he said slowly, “only when the debt is cleared. When every last gram is accounted for, and my money is repaid in full.”
Manuel shook his head violently. “No… please, not her. Take me instead. Take my life!”
“I already have your life,” Carlo said darkly. “Now I want your soul. And that lives in your daughter.”
He cut the call.
- Writer
