Chapter Two: I hate disloyalty.
Cassain Santos
I sat down angrily. My head was throbbing hard. It was because of those damn shipments. I always hated people who are weak, disloyal,arrogant. But I was going to kill that son of a b***h.
He thinks he's into shady business and he's wise. I'm wiser.
I'm a god-damned Don.
“The ship has reached the harbour but another good has been added to it. Malias says it's a peace offering”, my right hand man, Kairo informed me.
He's being shitty. Sending some bitchy woman to me? Thinking it'll calm me?! f**k!
“ I don't want anything in my house”,I said. And he knew what I meant. The woman that was meant to be the peace offering. She is probably a slut sent to investigate and sell me out. I am smarter.
“ Send her off to the underground. She should serve the men there, not me. Make sure she's put to do hard labour. She will regret ever thinking she could set a foot in my house!”, I commanded him.
“Yes , Don. Now I can take my leave?”Kairo asked.
“ Yes, send in Tessa”, I grumbled.
She walked in, all dressed in red lingerie, swaying her hips with every step. “ Cassy baby”,her temptress voice called. She came with red wine. My favorite.
“ You want some quick f**k?”
She giggled evilly. “ Don't worry, Cassy baby”
She took a glass and the drink poured into it, red. How sensuous. She handed it to me.
Her mouth was a dark red. I wanted to lick it.
She sat on me,grinding me . She moaned softly. “ Gosh, you're hard already”
I took a sip of my wine. I don't want to groan to give her the satisfaction. As a matter of fact, I don't at all.
“Strip and ride me, Tessa”, I said. I had her womb removed. She couldn't get pregnant and I had no idea of having a baby now. I'm only 29 ,almost 30.
Even with all the sultry moans she made trying to get me c*m, I didn't groan. I just held her waist as she moved up and down my c**k. One thing I liked about her is that she's deep. Her holes were deep enough to take my giant of a d**k. She was …. versatile?
Rhea Smith
I am currently being pulled out of that damned ship. The sky is dark,another night maybe? Or maybe this one hasn't ended yet?
“Order from the boss”,some big bulky guy said. “ She's to be sent to the underground”
I heard the words. I bit my lip not to insult this asshole. If I don't want to be beaten, I should behave.
What the f**k is the underground? I am not giving up for my aunt. I don't know where this is but….right Italy. Some guy mentioned it to me.
A tape was plastered over my mouth as I was hauled to a truck. I was thrown inside like a piece of s**t. I crumpled on the floor among many boxes of weed. I smelt it. It was weed.
My body hurts!
What is this underground they're taking me to? After the pain reduced a little. I push myself to the cold metal wall, trying to sit up. My leg felt numb. I lost too much blood. And worst my stomach. The pain is becoming unbearable. I refuse to be defeated. I refuse to cry.
The drive went on for about three hours. All the while I was clawing at myself. I felt so sick. My mouth tastes bitter and sour.
Finally,the truck door opened. I am so relieved the air still calmed me. The building was large,built like a warehouse. Large gates opened and I couldn't contain my tears. I am in Italy against my wishes. There's something called rights . I sniffed,not wanting to break down.
I limped through the long corridor,no one was in sight. We went around a corner and steps descended downwards. The underground? The place was filled to the brim. People processing and packaging weeds and guns. Guns! I left out a whimper. The one holding me , stared at me with the kind of eyes that left me shivering.
I was locked in a deserted ,dusty room. Nothing was in the room. ” Mr Volkov has called about a certain woman”, I pressed in the door to hear more.
“She’s meant to do hard labour. She's to be thougt a lesson”,he told the other man.
“Dont worry, I'll have Cyn deal with her”, another man said.
God,just kill me…my throat was very sore. I lied down on the bare floor. My right leg in my hands.
When I close my eyes ,I hope I never wake up again.
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