My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 15 "Finale" (6 page)

Keeping it from Christo, I pointed
at the blond agent. “The Black Russian likes blonds. Trade him instead of me.”

“The Black Russian wants to fuck
your
culo
,” Christo replied.

I let go of Camila and spun around,
seeing a gun in my face. “Renegotiate.”

“The Black Russian doesn’t know
him.”

“He’s FBI. That’s a selling point. He’s
also good-looking—another tick.”

“You’re prettier and as Gregor
says, he loves ‘pretty D’Angelos’
.
”

“The agent’s still very handsome,”
Camila said.

Christo’s eyes moved to Camila,
looking like he was thinking.

“Please,” she added.

He grunted. “Okay, I’ll ask.” He stepped
away from me and pulled out his phone. A second later he was talking to the
Black Russian. “I got an FBI agent: blond, male, very attractive.” His eyes
went to the agent. “Lift your shirt.”

“No!” the man snapped, his blue eyes
blazing.

“Lift it or you’ll get a bullet in
your head.”

The agent glared at him, but lifted
his shirt.

Christo resumed talking into the
phone: “Yes, he has a six-pack. He’s also got blue eyes and reminds me of
Matteo, though he’s taller and more muscular.” He grimaced. “I’m not testing
that! Fuck, you’re sick. Okay, I’ll ask.” His eyes returned to the agent. “Have
you ever been fucked by a man?”

“No!”

He resumed talking to the Black
Russian, “He’s a virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin, I’m married.”

Christo ignored him, only
concentrating on his phone conversation. “Can I exchange the agent for Jagger
instead, my niece wants him.” He grimaced. “Why the hell does everyone want
that pretty
bastardo
? I just don’t understand it. Okay, he’s beautiful,
but the FBI agent is more muscular, plus Jagger’s ass is probably loose from
being fucked so much.”

I yelled out at the insult. Camila
grabbed me, probably afraid I would attack her uncle and get myself shot, but I
remained still, just glaring at him as he continued talking to the Black
Russian.

He smiled at me, probably enjoying
my annoyance. “Honestly, take the agent, he has a virginal hole,” he said into
the phone. “Okay, okay, you can have Jagger. What about the agent? What will
you give me for him? No, I don’t want to exchange him for a slave, I want
money. He’s better looking than my niece, so give me five million. You’ve got
more money than you need, anyway.” He laughed. “Deal.” He hung up. “Sorry,
Jagger, your plan didn’t work, though it saved the agent’s life, because I
would’ve just shot him. Still, if I was him, I’d rather die than go to the
Black Russian.” He indicated with his gun. “Anyway, out. I want to head back to
the safe house. My
schiava
and Frano are there, so you can all have a
not so happy reunion.” He indicated with his gun again.

“Rita has a—” Camila stopped
talking as I turned to her, mouthing ‘No.’

“Rita has a, what?” Christo asked.

Camila cleared his throat. “A hard
punch
.
I don’t want to see her. She hates me.”

“Not my concern, so get your fat
culo
out of here, Teodora’s waiting for you in the first car.”

I followed Camila outside, hoping like hell the
other FBI agents had tracked Rita down.

***

We climbed out of the car. Several
feet in front of us was a large beach house. About twenty or so meters in front
of that was the Mediterranean Sea, the water starting to darken under the
waning sun. One of the soldiers indicated for Camila and me to enter the
modern-looking house. Teodora ran past us, yelling out someone’s name, her
excitement telling me the place probably belonged to the Spinelli.

We entered through a large doorway.
The front of the house was made up of glass windows, while the flooring was
lava stone, with a few colorful rugs decorating it. The ceiling was high and
had long-stemmed lights dangling from it. State of the art electronics filled
the room along with leather couches. Where there weren’t windows, modern paintings
hung on white walls. Further back, a sweeping staircase led up to a second
floor, the L-shaped mezzanine overlooking us.

A large, muscular-looking man headed
down the staircase, his smile directed at Teodora. He held out his big arms, sweeping
Teodora up into them. “I was worried about you cousin,” he said, hugging her
hard.

She slapped his face playfully.
“Put me down, Ercole.”

He did, a grimace forming as his
eyes landed on me. “Your cousin and that Salvi
troia
are upstairs. You
can stay with them.”

“I want Jagger with me,” Camila
piped up.

His eyes moved to the doorway as
Christo entered. “Is that permitted?”

“As long as a guard is posted
outside their room, it’s fine.” Christo disappeared into another room, his pallor
sickly.

Ercole indicated for us to follow him
up the staircase.

“I want to see Frano first,” I
said.

Ercole stopped a few steps from the
top. “He’s sleeping. I had to give him a sedative.”

“Why?”

“His back is shredded. He’s been
whipped badly.”

“By who?!”

“The Rosso heir.”

“I’ll kill him!”

“Too late, Christo already has. He
also killed the Rosso Don. By the way, they did betray the Santini.”

I shook my head, upset for my
cousins. “The Santini stuck their necks out for those
bastardi
.”

Ercole nodded. “Like my
famiglia
stuck their necks out for the Donatelli.” His eyes moved to Camila.

She frowned at him. “We’ve been
good to your
famiglia.
”

“Not always. Your
famiglia
are partly responsible for getting my auntie and uncle killed. Though, things
will be righted tomorrow after the Salvi
troia
is given back to the
Black Murderer.” He resumed walking up the staircase. We followed him, stopping
outside a room. “You’ll be staying in here,” he said.

Camila and I headed inside the room,
Ercole locking us in. Camila turned to me. “Why didn’t you let me tell Christo
about Rita’s tracker?”

“I was hoping the remaining FBI
could get a lock on its signal. If Christo knows about it, he’ll cut it out of
her and I’ll be fucked—literally, by the Black Russian.” I walked over to the
window and peered out. Down below, a Donatelli soldier was standing guard. My
eyes moved to the line of trees a hundred or so meters back.

“What are you looking at?” she
asked.

“The forest. I was hoping that the
head agent and his other men were in there.”

The lock on the door clicked open.
I turned around, seeing the blond FBI agent being pushed into the room, the
door closing behind him. I walked up to him. He raised his hands, looking ready
to attack me. “I’m not going to fight you,” I said. “And you shouldn’t attack
me either, I saved your life.”

“You were trying to trade me,” he
said, his accent sounding Bostonian.

“So I didn’t get sent to the Black
Russian, and regardless, I still saved your life. I also think we can help each
other.”

“The only help will come from my
boss. He and a few others went out looking for Rita. Let’s hope they got a
reading on Christo Donatelli’s cell phone.”

“I’d doubt he’s stupid enough to use
one that can be traced.”

“Still a chance.”

“Anyway, what skills do you have
that can help get us out of here?”

“I’m usually a sniper, but I can
fight well.”

“Well, we need to think of
something quick or we’ll be fried mincemeat if we’re put in the same plane as Rita
and the Black Russian.”

His eyes widened. “Shit, I forgot
about the bomb tracker. We need to say something to the Donatelli Don. He needs
to know this is a Spinelli set up.”

“For all we know, he’s in on it and
wants the Black Russian dead. And that big guy who put us in here is a
Spinelli. His
famiglia
will be the ones who inserted that chip into
Rita’s leg.”

“What the hell do we do then?”

I turned to Camila. “You need to
get to Teodora and see what she knows.”

“Jesus,” the agent said behind me.
“That woman...”

I turned around. “What about her?”

“She told me plenty when I was
questioning her. That’s why all the agents weren’t there. She gave them a
Spinelli beach house address. She said that her cousin lived there and that he
could help us. She said he was contacted by the FBI about a month ago in
regards to an assignment.” His eyes moved to Camila. “She didn’t want to say it
in front of you, which means Christo might not know.”

I smiled. “So, your colleagues know
about this address?”

“Looks like it.” He laughed. “And that
muscular guy who Teodora called
cousin
is probably the informant she was
talking about. We might just get out of this alive.”

“He’s not an informant,” Camila
said behind us.

I turned to her.

“He’s an assassin,” she added.

I frowned. “I thought you said all the
Spinelli were peace loving.”

“I lied, because the FBI was in
front of us at the time.”

“He could still help.”

“You don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“He’ll be the one activating the
bomb.”

4

FRANO

I woke up with a pounding headache,
then it was forgotten, my shredded back taking over all thought. I gasped and
blinked rapidly, the pain excruciating. It felt like a dragon was clawing my
flesh, while licking up my back with its fiery tongue.

I gripped the bed sheets, my palms
sweaty as well as my naked body. I wondered whether my whip marks had gotten
infected, the heat unbearable. I was lying on my stomach with darkness
surrounding me. Someone moved next to me, the slight touch of skin brushing my
arm.

“Frano,” Rita said. “Are you all
right?”

“My back ... pain...” I breathed
out, feeling like throwing up. I clamped my mouth shut, not sure whether it was
my back or the injection that was upsetting my stomach.

She ran a hand over my hair,
brushing it back. “What do you need me to do?”

“I need the toilet and…” I grimaced,
the pain in my back cutting my sentence short.

“Are you able to get up?”

“I’ll try.” I pushed up a little,
my back screaming in protest. I flopped back down, panting out the pain.

Rita jumped off the bed and went for
the door, banging on it. “Frano needs help! Someone! Help Frano!” She continued
yelling and banging until a man snapped at her to back away from the door. A
moment later, the light was switched on. “He needs to use the toilet,” she
said. “You also have to give him something for the pain. He’s completely soaked
in sweat.”

Footsteps approached me. Large
hands took a hold of my arms and yanked me to my feet. I yelled out, the pain
unbearable.

“
Mi dispiace
, Don,” Ercole
said, sitting me down. “I’ll get you a painkiller. After that, you can go to
the bathroom.” He headed out of the room, locking the door behind him.

Still naked, Rita sat down next to
me. The swelling on her face had lessened, although her bruises had gotten
brighter. “You’ll be all right soon,” she said. “The painkillers will help.”
She continued talking to me in a soothing tone, while stroking my arm.

A few minutes later, Ercole returned,
leaving the door open. A guard who resembled him was standing outside it,
holding a gun.

Ercole knelt down in front of me and
placed a needle to my arm. “This’ll stop the pain. It’ll also make you feel
overly happy and slightly light-headed.”

“
Grazie.
”

“
Prego
,” he said, pushing
the needle into my arm. “I would’ve given it to you sooner, but you were
asleep. I thought you’d sleep through the night. I mustn’t have given you a
strong enough dose, plus that Donatelli
bas
—” he cut himself off. “I
wasn’t allowed. But you’re in my house now, so I’ll do as I please.” He removed
the needle. “Just wait a few moments, the relief will come soon. I’ll help you
to your feet once you’re ready.”

“Why are you being kind to me?”

“I respect what you did for your
woman. It’s not my place to say whether she deserves it or not, but you giving
yourself over, knowing you’d be tortured and killed, that was truly a selfless
act of bravery. Despite what my Don said, you are a real man—unlike him. I’m
glad the Donatelli have fallen.”

“Aren’t you Donatelli?”

“No, like I told your woman, I’m a Spinelli,
and I apologize for what I did to her.”

“You were ordered to tie her up,
that’s hardly your fault.”