Bound By Blood

Chapter three

“Yes, yes,” he said. His gaze traveled the length of her, and my muscles clenched in wariness. f**k. This could be really bad. I had to figure out how to get Sara out of this.

“You’re a real doll. A real—” He stopped himself from repeating the word with a glance in my direction. I smirked at him. If I turned his anger on me, Sara might be spared until help arrived. I could only pray that I’d sent a call for help before we got caught, but I still couldn’t remember a f*****g thing. Jabba tilted his head like a fat bulldog and clucked his tongue as he leered at Sara.

She took a step back.

“I would love to sink my c**k into her Italian p***y,” the man beside Jabba said. He was tall and made of sinewy muscle that made me believe he had a background in kickboxing or another combat sport, making him more of a threat than Jabba.

“You’d be dead before you could even get your small d**k out,” I growled, stepping in front of Sara. They would have to come in to grab her. That might give me a chance to attack.

“You two aren’t promised, are you?” Jabba muttered.

“No, we’re not,” Sara said firmly. Her decision to answer so quickly—as if the possibility of being promised to me was unbearable—rubbed me the wrong way. I knew some people in the Famiglia still regarded my family as less worthy because of my father’s family history, but Sara’s father, Romero, had never seemed like he was one of them.

Jabba tilted his head in thought.

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking too much,” I said with a chuckle.

Jabba’s lips pulled into a grin. “I really like young p***y. But I’m also a businessman. I know you Italians think you’re more clever than us Russians.”

“Definitely more clever than you,” I taunted. I’d met many very intelligent Bratva soldiers in the past. Under the current Pakhan, intelligence just wasn’t a priority anymore.

Sara gave me a worried look. She obviously thought my provocation would make our situation worse. She didn’t know these guys. They wouldn’t show us mercy. All I could do at this point was to provoke them into stupid actions that might give me an opening to kill them and allow Sara the chance to escape. Or, at the very least, bode enough time for her. If they started torturing me and ignored her for the time being, that could be enough to spare her a lot of pain and humiliation. Just the thought of Jabba or one of his men touching Sara made me sick.

Jabba simply smiled stupidly. “Luca isn’t the unquestioned king over his empire like he used to be. Some don’t like that he’s gotten himself in a war with us, the bikers, the Camorra, and the Outfit. Lots of enemies to have.”

“Luca has loyal men who’ll die for him.”

“I think I’ll be patient today,” Jabba said. “I don’t care for virgins, you know? All the squealing and whining grates on my nerves, you know? And I have a new wife. I can’t f**k around so soon.”

My stomach tightened.

Sara looked even paler than before. She was clever. She knew this was heading in a very, very dangerous direction. f**k. How could I save her?

“Luca puts a lot of trust in you Trevisan men. And your dad is one of Luca’s most loyal followers,” he said the last with a nasty look at Sara. “Sow discord, that’s what wise men do. It destroys from the inside.”

I had no clue what the f**k he was talking about. From the empty expression on his men’s faces, neither did they. If they followed Jabba’s command, they weren’t the brightest candles on the cake.

“This is what’s going to happen, Maximus. You are going to f**k the pretty doll. I bet you’ve been secretly lusting after a high-ranking p***y like hers. With your f****d-up family history, a cunt like hers is out of reach, right?”

I stared at him, blood pumping in a vein at my temple. From the corner of my eye, I saw Sara’s horrified expression.

“I won’t touch her,” I gritted out.

“No?” Jabba raised his bushy eyebrows. “I think you will. Or do you want Yevgeny to go first?”

I stormed toward the bars, gripped them, and tore at them like a madman. They shook in my hold. Some plaster fell, but the bars didn’t give in. Jabba took a step back. “Nobody will touch her!”

“You will,” Jabba said. “Or we will all f**k her in front of you. Or maybe we’ll just put a bullet in her head because she’s not part of our plan.”

They would f**k her either way. Unless someone saved us or I got my hands on Jabba, it was inevitable. “Yevgeny will record everything for Romero’s and Luca’s enjoyment. I hear that’s what people do nowadays. Record nasty stuff and post it everywhere.”

I pressed my lips together, rage and despair flooding my body.

I didn’t want to look at Sara. f**k, we were doomed.

“Don’t play noble, Maximus. You’re a bad man. And bad men always want what they shouldn’t,” Jabba said.

He was right. I was one of the worst in the Famiglia, as bad as they come, but I’d never wanted Sara. I had never allowed my thoughts to go that way. I had gone after the available p*****s in the clubs. Why would I set myself up for disappointment?

I took a step back from the bars, then thrust my entire weight against them again. More plaster rained down on us.

Jabba and Yevgeny pulled guns on me, but I jumped against the bars again. A shot rang out, missing Sara’s head by a couple of inches. Sara shrieked and dropped to her knees. I froze in my tracks.

“Grab a phone to record everything,” Jabba ordered Yevgeny.

“The bikers didn’t break the Famiglia when they recorded Marcella; they only fueled our rage. No matter what you record now, our rage will burn even brighter.”

“Sure, but this time, one of your own is hurting a poor Famiglia woman. That’s going to sting. I heard a story of how warlords in Africa break the moral of their enemies. They forced fathers and brothers to r**e their own family. Clever, right?”

I grimaced, sickened by his words, but I didn’t say anything. Things weren’t looking good, and I knew they’d get far worse if we didn’t get help soon.

Yevgeny took out his phone and held it up, ready to begin filming.

My mind was blank. What was I supposed to do?

I had never forced a woman. I’d never understood how a guy could get off on it. I finally glanced toward Sara. She sat motionless on the ground, face ashen, eyes full of fear. Her white tights were ruined—ripped and covered in dirt and blood. Her gaze met mine, and she swallowed hard.

Fuck. f**k. f**k.