My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 5 Escape (9 page)

“
He is, but
he’s still one of mine.”

The guard apologized
again,
then
quickly moved out of my way as I headed for Mario. I grabbed Mario
into a hug, Mario hugging me back tighter. After he had calmed
down, I let him go, doing my best to ignore his smell, the man no
doubt not having been allowed to clean—Hell having no
showers.

“
It’s good to
see yo
u, Mario,” I said.

Mario nodded, the pain within
his eyes making me worry about what had been done to
him.

“You are safe now,” I
added.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a
moment, then reopened them. “I saw what they did to Jagger and
Sasha, and...” He looked down, “to my slaves. They slit Julie’s
throat in front of me,” he let out a shuddering breath, “while
Cocoa is barely alive, the abuse they heaped upon her beyond what
any human can withstand. And Red... They hurt her to hurt me, raped
and beat her while I was tied up, committed horrible atrocities all
because...” he let out a sob, “I love her.”

I exhaled, having
k
nown it for
a while, the privileges he’d given the slave something I had
reprimanded him for. Though, I had allowed him to keep her,
pretending to Mario that Red required more training so it would
stop him from fixating on the other slaves, Red the only one
getting special treatment. I really did need some proper trainers,
because both Mario and Jagger were too soft for the job. Maybe I
needed to get my own hands dirty, to do some training
myself.
S
ì
, but I still needed more trainers—and a
lot of them, because after today my cells were going to be brimming
with women.

“
We
will
go find Red now,” I said to Mario, hoping that his woman
wasn’t dead.

We left the cell and entered
another, where a Landi soldier was unlocking Sasha. The Russian was
facing a wall, the metal cuffs attached to his wrists the only
things holding him up. His naked body was hanging limply from them,
the man looking barely conscious. And across his ass, the
word
puttano
was painted in blood. My eyes widened. No, it wasn’t
painted; it was etched into his flesh.

As the last cuff came off he
slumped to the floor, exhaustion enveloping him. The Landi
soldier picked him
up, Sasha looking almost dead.

“Sasha,” I
said.

He didn’t react, his
eyes
remaining glazed over.

“
Take him to
your boss’s hospital,” I said to the soldier, then headed out of
the room with Mario.

On our
right, a group of naked women were
being ordered out of a cell. A redhead appeared, the woman’s eyes
instantly snapping to us ... no, to Mario. She let out a cry,
practically bowling others over to get at Mario. She launched
herself at him, wrapping her arms and legs around his body, looking
as if she never wanted to let go. I watched them for a few seconds,
seeing how Mario peppered kisses all over her face, not caring that
it was smeared with dirt.

“
Mario,
” I said.

He
turned his head to me, his happy
expression dropping instantly. I knew why, because he’d always been
told off for showing his slaves affection, the man impossible, but
I could make this one concession, Mario deserving some
happiness.

“
If you wish
to keep her as your own,” I said to him in Italian, “she is yours
to have. It is the least I can do.”

Mario’s mouth dropped open.
“Truly?”

“
S
ì
.”

His face lit
up
, those
bright blue eyes of his stunning. “
Grazie
, don,
grazie mille
.” He refocused on Red, the woman looking
confused. Mario wiped the expression off her face as he latched
onto her lips, giving her the kiss of a lifetime, because she was
no longer a slave, she was his woman.

I headed back up the
staircase
s,
knowing that my job was far from finished, because I needed to go
to the Donatelli abode straight away.

The Landi
soldiers who had been ordered
to protect me, followed me outside, piling into the four-wheel
drive we’d arrived in, Tomiso taking the steering wheel this time.
He backed out as I clicked on my seatbelt, then headed down the
driveway. Within minutes he was driving down a much grander
entrance, one that led to the Donatelli house, the beautiful
Baroque-styled
palazzo
worthy of royalty, the line of statues leading to it
reminding me of centurions, although in this case they could do
nothing but watch their masters fall.

T
omiso pulled the vehicle alongside a row
of black vans. Several Santini men were patrolling the front with a
few Rocco guards, which intrigued me. Although the Rocco
famiglia
were closely linked
to the Santini, I didn’t realize they supported me, but then again,
I was going to be the new head of the island and the Roccos always
sided with the winners, their don a crafty and highly intelligent
man.

I got out of the
vehicle and headed
for the front entrance, the Santini and Roccos parting for me. I
stepped inside and walked through to the formal lounge, where I had
instructed the women and children to be taken. Chandeliers lined
the ceilings while gold-framed pictures decorated the walls, and
like outside, there were more statues, but in a much more
extravagant baroque-style, their overabundance of swirls and
saintly faces reminding me of Bernini’s work. The Donatelli were a
showy bunch of thugs, who took great pride in displaying their
wealth.

More Santini guards parted for
me, allowing me access to a scared bunch of women and children, who
were huddled in the far corner, the marble angel overlooking the
group unable to save them. The don’s widow was clutching onto two
of her grandchildren while her daughter-in-law, Lucky’s wife, was
holding her sixteen-year-old daughter. And in front of them sat the
four sisters, Camila, my ex-lover, the only one not looking scared.
Instead, she appeared furious, her eyes boring holes into the
Santini men.

Her head snapped around to me
as I neared her, recognition flashing across her face, hate quickly
following. She jumped to her feet and charged at me, but got
shunted back by a Santini guard. She turned to him and slapped him
hard across the face, screaming profanities. The guard went to hit
her back, but stopped as I yelled at him not to. Only I had a right
to slap the bitch, which I knew I would do many times.

The guard
quickly moved out of my way as
I headed for Camila. She stormed towards me, waving her arms about,
screaming, “Get out of my house!”

I stopped a few feet from her
and smiled, receiving great pleasure in saying my next words: “This
is my house now, not yours, so
you
will be the one leaving.”

“
I will
not
!”
she spat, her blue eyes blazing. She was a true beauty. Her long
black hair was thick and luscious while her olive skin was
flawless—and that body of hers ... it was a delight to fuck. But
despite all of that, her personality was far too acidic for my
taste, nastier than all the Donatelli put together.

My smile widened. “Oh,
you
will
be leaving here; your don has decreed it.”

“
My father is
dead!” she s
napped. “Show some respect.”

“
I
t’s you who needs to show respect, because I’m your don
now.”

“
You are not
my don, Frano. You are a manwhore who cheated on
me.”

“
I
didn’t cheat, I left you, and if you don’t get on your knees and
accept your lot in life I will make you a slave like your
vile
famiglia
did to me and my own.”

She spat in
my face.

I wiped it
, then slapped her hard,
plastering her face with her own spit. She cried out and grabbed
her cheek, then spat at me again, the witch knowing no boundaries
or reason. The second slap sent her to back a few steps, the sound
loud even to my ears. She went for me with her nails extended. I
sidestepped her and grabbed her hair, then kicked the back of her
knees, sending her crashing to the floor. The banshee screamed out,
whipping the other women into a frenzy, her sisters jumping to
their feet. The Santini men shoved them back down, the women crying
out in anger and fear.

The children started wailing as
Camila’s mother screamed at me to let her daughter go, the old
woman’s face swollen with grief.

“
T
ake the children out,” I yelled at the Santini.

More s
creaming started up, the mothers and
grandmother gripping onto the children as the Santini men descended
upon them.

“
Shoot at the
ceiling,” I told the guard next to me.

The
gun went off, freezing everyone in
place.

I raised my voice. “Unless
you
want me
to kill all of you, allow the children be taken to
safety.”

The women started sobbing as
the Santini men wrenched the screaming children from their arms,
the oldest girl giving them the most trouble, the little spitfire
reminding me of a young Camila. One of the bigger guards grabbed
her and lifted her off the floor, following the others out of the
room.

I indicated to Don Donatelli’s
wife and her oldest daughter, as well as Lucky’s wife. “Take them
to the cells below.” I watched the women get dragged away, the
don’s wife shouting at me not to hurt her daughters, the old woman
even louder than her late husband.

I waited until they were gone,
then focused on Camila’s two sisters, the women beauties like their
younger sister. They would sell well, although Camila would take a
lot of work to break, the woman vicious.

“
Strip
those two,” I said, pointing to her sisters.

The women started screaming as
the Santini guards descended upon them, the men ripping their
clothes off them. Camila went crazy, trying to get free from me,
but I held on tight to her hair. She twisted around and swiped out
at my legs. I kicked her, then placed my boot on her chest and
pushed her down.

Once her sisters were stripped
naked, they grabbed a hold of each other, sobbing uncontrollably.
They were in their mid-thirties, their bodies still beautiful,
although the older one’s breasts were too firm to be natural. The
men leered at them, occasionally giving me looks, no doubt wanting
permission to fuck the women.

Camila
screamed curses at the men, telling
them she would slit their throats if they touched her sisters
again, which made me consider letting the men rape them in front of
her—just to prove her wrong.

“
Your uncle
raped my cousin,
” I said to her, making the witch stop screaming,
“He did horrendous things to Jagger, yet I bet you didn’t care
then.”

“
I don’t give
a shit abou
t Jagger,” she spat, looking as if she wanted to slit me
from ear to ear. Even though she was only twenty-nine, the youngest
of her siblings, she was by far the strongest willed, just a pity
that her father never saw it, because she would’ve been a fine head
of her
famiglia
, her womanhood the only thing getting in the
way.

I yanked her
h
air back so
she was looking up at my face. “Which means I don’t give a
shit
about your
sisters.” I nodded at the Santini. “You can have them as payment,
they are yours.”

The sisters started screaming
again, desperately trying to cling onto each other as the men
descended upon them, which set Camila off again, her words a blur,
her struggles to get free from me almost noble. She turned and
started hitting out at me, using her legs and arms, anything to get
free. I let go of her hair and brought my heal down into her
stomach, winding her as the Santini carried off her sisters. Her
sisters’ screams drew further away, setting her off again. She went
to get up, but I kicked her harder, making her splutter. I then
dropped down on her and grabbed her blouse, ripping it open. I
shoved her bra up then pulled her skirt and knickers down, exposing
her. Feeling vindicated, I rose to my feet and spat down on her
chest, the woman still stunned and unable to even speak.

“
You are my
slave now
, which means you don’t have a right to ask for anything.
You are no longer Donatelli, you are nameless.”

That seemed to kick her into
gear again.
She pulled up her knickers and screamed, “I am Donatelli!
And I will kill you if you don’t kill me now.”

“
Don’t tempt
me,
bitch.”