Caught Between The Mafia

Chapter 7: TAKEN AGAIN

I opened my eyes.

Darkness.

I closed them again.

My head felt heavy, like it didn’t belong to me. I tried once more, forcing them open this time.

Still dark.

I squeezed them shut, breathing shallowly, my body sinking back into whatever I was lying on.

The next time I opened my eyes, light flooded my vision.

White.

A white ceiling stared back at me.

For a moment, I just lay there, staring, trying to remember how I got here. My head throbbed. My mouth was dry. I shifted slightly.

Metal bit into my wrists.

I frowned and tugged again, slower this time.

Nothing.

I pulled harder.

Pain shot up my arms and I sucked in a sharp breath.

My heart slammed against my chest.

No. No. No…

I thrashed my wrists, twisting them in every direction, refusing to believe it. I pulled again. And again.

That was when it sank in.

I was bound.

Both hands, stretched out on either side of me, chained to the metal poles of the bed. My legs moved freely, but my arms… my arms were trapped.

I lifted my head as much as I could, considering my limited range and stiff neck. I scanned what little I could see.

A bare room. A chair. A small table. A couch facing the bed.

That was all.

Panic surged.

“Heeellllpppp!” I screamed, my voice hoarse. “Someone help me!”

I kicked my legs hard against the mattress, over and over, rattling the chains, yanking at the cuffs until my wrists burned.

Immediately, the door opened.

A young woman stepped in, dressed in a maid’s uniform, holding a tray.

“Good day, ma’am,” she said calmly.

Relief crashed through me like a wave slamming into shore.

“Thank God,” I breathed. “You have to get me out of here. Take these off.”

She didn’t move.

“Ma’am,” her tone was soft, “you need to eat. You’ve been unconscious for two days.”

“Two days?” My eyes widened in complete disbelief. “Where am I? Who did this to me? Why am I here?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” she stepped forward and lowered the tray toward me. A bowl of hot porridge sat on it, steam rising. “I can’t answer that. Please eat.”

Her refusal to help sent rage charging straight through me.

“I don’t want food!” I snapped. “I want to leave!”

I kicked out hard. The tray flew and the bowl tipped.

Hot porridge splashed all over her.

“Aaaahhhh” She cried out in agony, stumbling back as she clutched herself, the heat burning her skin.

“I’m sorry—I—” I started, but it was too late. She bolted out the door, sobbing, slamming it shut behind her.

And just like before, the room fell silent.

I lay there, fighting the tears that threatened to escape. My wrists still aching badly from the earlier struggle .

Was this Dean punishing me for running away?

Hours… or what felt like hours, passed.

The room gradually became dark, moonlight spilling through the window, casting long shadows across the walls.

My body sagged against the bed, exhausted from hunger, from fear, from the fight I couldn’t win.

Just as I was about to pass out, the door swung open again. This time, a tall, lanky figure stepped inside. He switched on the lights, bringing his face clearly into view. Plain and unremarkable, clad in a neat polo and denim jeans.

I blinked through the haze of my exhaustion, barely able to focus. He sat on the couch opposite me, and crossed his legs.

“You burned my maid,” his voice was low and deliberate.

I glared, weak but furious. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m your new husband,” he said with a wicked grin, as if it were the simplest fact in the world.

The audacity of it made my stomach twist.

“I hate to break it to you,” I spat, “But I’m already married.”

“You mean the contract marriage?” he laughed, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’m sorting out the annulment.”

He rose slowly and walked toward the end of the bed. “An inheritance that large can’t be managed by an i***t like Dean Luther.”

He bent beneath the bed and pulled out two more handcuffs.

“W… what are you doing?” I asked, my voice wavering. The words came out thin and unsteady before I could stop them.

“That money is mine,” he declared.

Next thing I knew, cold metal snapped around my ankle. He dragged my legs toward the end of the bed and fastened them to the poles with practiced ease.

“And so are you.”

His hands gripped the hem of my dress. The sound of tearing fabric filled the room as he ripped the bottom half away.

I gasped as cold air hit my bare legs. “Please, you don’t have to do this.”

He stared at my exposed skin like a predator marking its prey. “I knew you were sexy, but this… you’re a goddess.”

His eyes traveled up my thighs, and I knew he could see everything. I felt completely naked.

I tried so desperately to close my legs. But the cuffs held me open.

"No underwear," he growled, his voice low and rough. "You're such a bad girl.”

Tears welled in my eyes. “Stop. I’ll scream.”

“Good luck with that.” He chuckled, his hands touching my inner thighs. His fingers were rough.

When they finally pressed against me, I gasped, I was wet and I hated it. Hated that my body reacted when I wanted to run.

"You like this," he purred, drawing circles around my c**t. "Even if you won’t admit it.”

“You’re disgusting, and I could never enjoy this.” I hissed, my voice choking through my tears.

“Well then,” He replied, rubbing the thick bulge through his jeans, “let’s confirm that.”

He unzipped his pants and pulled his c**k out.

It was thick. Long. Too big. I didn’t want to look, but I couldn’t look away.

He stroked it slowly with one hand, his eyes locked on me. The other hand grabbed the top of my dress and yanked it down. My breasts spilled out, n*****s already hard from fear… or something else.

Immediately, his mouth was on me.

He groaned as he sucked my n****e hard, tongue twisting around its peak, teeth grazing it.

A soft moan escaped my lips before I could stop it. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to block him out as shame burned through me.

Then I felt it, the hot tip of his shaft rubbing against my p***y, sliding through my wetness.

And in that second, scared, broken, and desperate for it to stop, the words flew out before I could catch them:

“I’m pregnant!”