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Drake looked into her eyes and stroked her wrist. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No, Master.” She shook her head.
“We’re done playing, bella. Call me Drake.”
“I love you, Drake,” Alessandra said in affirmation.
With a final sigh of contentment, they lay limp on the sweat-dampened silk sheets, holding each other until they fell asleep.
* * *
The slamming of the door startled them awake. Alessandra scrambled to cover herself but was too late, as both men entering had already glimpsed her nakedness.
Lorenzo leered at her, “Nice tits, dolcezza.”
“I warned you about disrespecting my wife, Guido.”
“You are a beautiful specimen, my dear, like the Venus de Milo. Women are meant to serve at the club and should dress appropriately. Lorenzo brought you some suitable options.” Enzo gestured to his associate to bring forward the selected attire.
“Enzo—” Drake began.
“She’s a Russo, a putana, and a submissive. She has not proven worthy of my respect.” Enzo leered at Alessandra. “Love makes men do stupid things, Drago. I thought I taught you better than that. Never let your guard down.
“Did you forget, as head of the family, I get the first pick of any woman?”
“Fuck you, old man,” Drake spat.
Enzo nodded at Guido, who pulled a still-naked Alessandra from the bed. She screamed and attempted to fight him but was no match for his strength.
“Let go of me!” she cried.
He pulled a gun out and pointed it at her head. “She’s freshly fucked and still ripe, boss.”
“Let go of my wife, Guido. I’m going to fucking kill you with my bare hands. No one lays a hand on my wife.”
At Drake’s provocation, Lorenzo trailed the muzzle of the weapon between Alessandra’s bare breasts and down her belly. He circled her navel and made a show of his movements. Alessandra tensed, knowing that at any moment he could pull the trigger.
“Have you been fucked by a gun, principessa?”
He forced the firearm between Alessandra’s thighs. She jerked and squeaked in fright. Her emerald eyes went wide and she stared at Drake, silently pleading for him to save her.
Lorenzo pressed the cold metal against her most intimate area. He stroked it back and forth, violating her with the firearm. Alessandra refused to give these men the satisfaction of seeing her break. She clamped her lips tightly and bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood.
Drake sprang from the bed roaring with a murderous rage, but Enzo stopped him with a raised hand. He pointed his own firearm at Alessandra.
“Enough, Lorenzo. Return to the task at hand,” Enzo ordered his guard.
Lorenzo dragged Alessandra into the bathroom and threw her to the floor. “Do as Mr. Prazza says and change. If you disobey, he will punish you. My gun is still hungry.”
Alessandra almost threw up when he sniffed the muzzle of the weapon and licked the shiny wetness off it. She willed her body to stop trembling. She’d experienced worse, and she’d survived. These men wanted her to cower before them, and she refused. She would cry about it in Drake’s arms later. The only place she felt safe was with him.
He winked at her and tossed a black leather thong at her. She expected him to leave, but he stood and watched as she put on the underwear and thigh-high stockings with a black garter belt. It felt strange against her freshly used hole. There was no bra, so she pulled her hair down and arranged it in a way to offer modest coverage. The black wrist cuffs covered her scars. It was the only piece of the insulting lingerie that made her feel comfortable.
Once she exited the bathroom, Guido grabbed her again. She tried to fight him but was quickly subdued. He took silver chains and connected each wrist to the collar around her neck. She felt humiliated and degraded in a way that Drake never made her feel.
Drake was also dressed and quickly moved to grab her, but Enzo beat him to it. “It’s time to show off my daughter-in-law to the club. Let them see what happens when we collar the enemy.” Enzo yanked on her chain.
“Drake!” she cried.
