My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 3

MY MASTERS’ NIGHTMARE

SEASON 1

EPISODE 3

“
BETRAYED”

Marita A. Hansen

Like a television series,
My Masters’ Nightmare
is broken up into seasons and episodes. A new
episode will be published approximately every 3 weeks until a
season has ended. There will be fifteen episodes per
season.

CONTENTS

Copyright

1
Frano

2
Rita

3
Frano

4
Rita

About the Author and
Links

Other Books By Marita A.
Hansen

Copyright

My
Masters’ Nightmare

Season
1, Episode 3

“
Betrayed”

Copyright 2013 © Marita A. Hansen

Edited
by John Hudspith

Cover
design © Arijana Karčić, Cover It! Designs

Cover Photography by Konrad B
ą
k

and sourced from
http://depositphotos.com/

All
rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in
a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means
whatsoever without the written permission of the author, nor
circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which
it is published. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this
author. For subsidiary rights inquiries email:
[email protected]

All
characters, names, places, and incidents in this book are either
the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously,
and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or real persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

1

Frano

Betrayal.
It stuck at the back of my throat and burned. Burned so bad
I wanted to ... no, I
needed
to kill someone, to hurt them as much as I wanted
to hurt Alberto, to take my rage out on them, because no matter
what, I couldn’t do it to my brother, even though everything in my
body screamed to crush him. My brother! My own fucking brother had
betrayed me to the Donatelli. I didn’t see that coming, couldn’t
understand how he could do that to me. I’d done everything for
Alberto, put up with his shit for so long, his raging temper, his
sick desire to hurt women, and had turned a blind eye because my
duty was to him, not to those slaves, yet he’d still betrayed
me.

“
Alberto’s doing this so
he can have Jagger,” Federico said.

Those
words pulled my attention back to the
guard, who was standing a few feet away from me. He was talking
nonstop, his hands waving about, his craggy face angry. Normally he
was controlled, a quiet, reserved man, but after barely cheating
death his agitation was more than understandable. He’d told me
about what had happened outside of the cell we were being held in:
how all the Russian guards, minus Sasha, had been shot in the back
of the head by the Donatelli. And he’d also told me that Alberto
was actively working with the Donatelli, Sasha, the blond guard who
was sitting by the wall confirming it all.

Federico’s jaw clenched, his anger making
him look much harsher than he was. “Alberto is doing all of this so
he can have Jagger,” he repeated.

I sat down on the bed and put my hands to
my head, massaging my sore temples. Federico’s words were easy to
believe, because Alberto had hated Jagger ever since our cousin had
come to live with our family at the age of eleven. I figured it was
because Alberto was jealous of how everyone cooed over Jagger’s
beauty, especially since Alberto was an ugly brute like our father,
someone who looked more ape than man.

But maybe it would be
more merciful if
Alberto did kill Jagger, because the screams emanating from the
neighboring cell were chilling, and even more so since it was my
cousin making those inhuman sounds. I covered my ears, wishing I
could escape them. They had stopped for a short while, but now
they’d started up again. Jagger was screaming for Alberto to stop
the priest, pleading with him, his voice breaking my soul. The
Donatelli were expert torturers, sick bastards who only saw
attractive people as commodities.
S
ì
, I
sold slaves, but I still thought of them as flesh and blood,
not
fori
—holes to be filled with cock. And to think I gave them
Rita’s husband. I should’ve killed him instead of listening to
Alberto, who thought it would appease the Donatelli, but nothing
ever satisfied that house of bastards.

“
Didn’t you hear me?” Federico
said loudly.

I uncovered my ears, relieved that
Jagger’s cries for help had stopped. “I already know Alberto wants
to hurt Jagger.”

“
No, you misunderstood me.
Alberto is doing this so he can fuck Jagger.”

“
Fucking him over means
the same thing.”

“
No. He wants to fuck
Jagger—
literally
. Alberto lusts after him.”

I snorted, the man obviously
having lost
his mind. “Leave me be; I’m not in the mood for your
nonsense.”

“
It’s the truth;
I
’d stake my
life on it.” Federico pulled a face, looking uncomfortable.
“Alberto raped Jagger earlier today when he was unconscious from
the drugs.”

I pushed to my feet, now
getting pissed off that the idiot was persisting with his theories.
My brother was a rapist of women,
not
of men.

Federico took a step back. “I saw it with
my own eyes.”

“
Shut the hell up before I
fuck
you
up!” I yelled, thrusting a finger at him. Because he saw
nothing, and for him to persist at a time like this was beyond my
tolerance.

He took another step back, although he
didn’t look afraid, instead his face hardened. “I have a recording
of it.”

I put my face right up to his. “You’re
lying; otherwise you would’ve come to me with it.”

“
I didn’t because...” he took
another step back, “I thought you had put the camera in
there.”

“
It wasn’t me,” I
snapped
,
wanting to rip into him, because if there was a camera, I knew the
FBI cunt would’ve installed it. I had found out Federico was an
undercover agent from Matteo, but decided to keep it a secret so I
could use him as a means to pass on false information to the FBI,
which was why they thought Rita’s husband was dead. Federico hadn’t
seen shit; instead he’d been
told
that Matteo had been fed to the sharks, which was
true in a way, because the Donatelli were sharks.

“
You must believe me,” Federico
said. “Alberto’s hate is a pretense. He was talking to the
unconscious Jagger, apologizing for what he did, saying it was a
cover. He mentioned only getting hard for the slaves and his wife
because Jagger put his cock in them. And you have to admit that
Alberto’s cock was hard after he attacked Jagger—”

“
Enough!” I yelled, because I
couldn’t deny that. My brother
had
been hard after he’d assaulted Jagger, and the way
he’d rubbed himself against Jagger’s rear as he’d held him down,
saying that our cousin was made to be fucked by men... I had
assumed it was a means to mock Jagger, to humiliate him, but with
Federico’s words it told a different story.

But my brother
couldn’t be
gay...

...although
m
y head was
now screaming at me that he was.

My father had treated Alberto
differently from me—a thousand times harsher, even though my
brother had fallen over backwards for the
bastardo
. Alberto had done everything our
father wanted from a son, even taking up boxing to please him, but
all he got in return was disdain, even disgust at times, my
father’s emotions never hidden unless he was planning to kill
someone—like my mother. God, I’d told our father I hated him for
what he’d done so many times, yet he still favored me over Alberto,
and had passed the mantle of being the don onto me. He’d put
everything under my name, not the son who kissed his feet, which
now made perfect sense, since our father was a bigot.

The sound of people
outside my cell
captured my attention. I rushed to the door as it opened, ready to
attack whoever came through it, but took a step back as Alberto
entered carrying a naked Rita, her body hanging lifeless in his
arms, her hair dripping water onto the floor.

“
What did you do to her?!” I
shouted, rushing him, wanting to take her out of his
arms.

One of the Donatelli guards stepped out
from behind him and pointed a gun at me. “Back off,
Frano.”

I ignored him. “Give her to me!” I yelled
at my brother.

Alberto thrust her wet body at me. I
carried her to the bed, relieved to see the slight rise and fall of
her chest. I didn’t understand the relief; she was just a fuck-toy
in training, like all the other slaves who lived under my roof. I
didn’t care if they lived or died, only that they made me money,
like they had for my father. I’d seen them raped and slaughtered
before my eyes, my father teaching me from a young age that it was
just their lot in life.

I laid
Rita down and touched her neck,
double-checking that she was indeed breathing, and that I wasn’t
seeing something I wanted to see. Her heart played a drumbeat
across my fingers, making me exhale with relief.

I straightened and turned to
Alberto, my relief morphing into revulsion, anger, rage... “You
disgust me!” I spat, not comprehending how my own brother could
betray me over a fuck, and not just any fuck, but one with
famiglia
, something forbidden, and something that would damn him to
Hell.

Alberto
lifted his chin. “I did it for
the
famiglia.
”

“
You did it to fuck Jagger, you
lying
cazzo!
”

He flinched, confirming everything that
Federico had said.

I walked up
t
o him,
giving the scum Donatelli guard a glare as he raised his gun. “This
has got nothing to do with you, so don’t interfere.”

“
I’
m your brother’s guard; I’m here to
protect him from you.”

“
And who is here to protect me
from your scum masters?!” I yelled. “This is
my
house. MINE!”

“
Calm down, Frano,”
Alberto said. “This is only temporary.”

My attention snapped back to my
brother. “I’m in a fucking slave cell, temporary is not good
enough!”

“
I understand you’re
angry—”

“
You understand
nothing!
” I
jabbed a finger at his face, making him take a step back. “Our
father was right about you. He knew you wanted Jagger, whereas I
was just a fool who thought he was being too harsh on you. But he
wasn’t, because you’re a sick fuck who deserves to go to
Hell!”

Alberto’s face hardened, no, not just
hardened, it turned vicious. He looked like he wanted to smash me
into nothing but blood and guts, which right now I wanted to do to
him, my whole body practically vibrating, telling me to attack,
attack, attack...

“
I am not sick!” Alberto
hollered. “Our father is sick! He buried our mother alive! Yet you
look at
me
like I’m the repulsive one because I love
Jagger?”

“
You love Jagger?” I
said,
totally dumbfounded, his words so ludicrous I couldn’t
believe he’d uttered them. Alberto had been nothing but cruel to
Jagger, pushing him around, bullying him like an overgrown school
kid.

“
I do! But because of our father
I couldn’t do anything about it! For years I’ve had to
h
ide my
feelings for Jagger. Well, I’m not tolerating it anymore, I’m
taking what I want and to hell with you if you think that’s
wrong!”