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“The warehouse in Brooklyn is on fucking fire.”
Daniel stares at me in disbelief, his face creased in shock. He is the only one I can talk to right now.
We’ve been together since he lost both his parents. He is practically family now.
“The fucking Gustavos did this! I’m going to have every one of their guts sticking out of their bodies.”
Daniel slides his hands into his pockets, slightly turning his head to stare into the open space.
Three men dressed in black suits walk into the warehouse with cartons in their arms.
“I'll kill them all,” I threaten with my fists balled, dreading my father’s return.
Daniel reaches for my right shoulder. “We will have our revenge on those stronzi (assholes),” he says with a gentle squeeze. “I promise, we will.”
I pinch my forehead for a moment before running my fingers through my hair.
“Manny will pay for this,” I add.
Daniel nods in response and turns to his car, holding out the handle to the door. “I’m going off to Elixir. Coming?”
“My father’s warehouse just got fucking burned, Daniel.”
“Standing out here angry won’t help,” he replies.
He slides into his car and starts the engine. “Take a few shots to help you think straight. We won’t be there for long.”
I walk back to my car with only the thoughts of skinning Manny Gustavo alive in my head. Unlike my father, I’m going to end him.
Chapter two
Adriana
Present Moment
Our eyes meet for a moment. His are dark, with no emotion.
I can tell something isn’t right, but he interrupts me yet again, sliding another finger into me.
This time, he matches the pressure of his lips and his fingers. I’m out of breath, screaming, and moaning. And screaming again.
I feel his teeth on my nipples, causing me to groan. My legs begin to tremble, losing my grip on him. He releases my breast as his fingers work faster underneath me.
But then, the door flies open almost immediately, startling me.
He stops the stroking of his fingers and stares at me. I feel an ache in between my thighs.
The lighting in the otherwise dim room lets me see his face clearly.
His jaws are clenched tightly. Two men barge into the room with guns pointed at his head.
“Figlio di puttana (Son of a bitch),” the one with the gun barks. I recognize them both.
Dammit.
Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe this is my mother sending me a way to get out of this situation. After all this time, I shouldn’t lose my dignity —my virginity, like this.
The stranger’s fingers wrap around my neck before I get a hold of myself.
