Emilio (Made Men #3)

One

Bethany 

I had one job. Sneak into the Italian Central. Somehow make my way into the Don's office in the guise of one of the girls who lived there. Steal some file called JGH. Go back to Victor, give him the file, get him to pay for my brother's community college, and keep on working as his maid to continue paying off my father's debts.

The only condition Victor had had - Don't fail.

I had failed.

It had seemed easy. Afterall, I barely looked Russian. I had picked up a slight accent over the 16 years I had been with the Russian mafia, but I just wouldn't speak. I was dolled up in an expensive dress, my face caked with makeup, and I had made my way inside without raising any suspicion. I had even reached upto the Don's room. Then I had  in the wrong security code, and suddenly there were bells chiming, and I was being manhandled by two men and I was screaming. 

Now, I was sitting in a dark room in the Central, my hands and legs bound to a wooden chair. I was naked. And I was sobbing. 

The room I had been locked in was dark, but clean. I wondered what they would do to me. Maybe some leggy blonde would come in and chop my fingers off. Maybe they would be kind and just kill me. 

Victor had made me learn everything about the Rivera family and the Italian mafia. I could hear Mariano Rivera's voice outside the door. He was speaking with his brother - Emilio. I was afraid of both of them, their voices hard and powerful and filled with authority. I had heard tales. One time, Mariano Rivera had had his soldiers chop off someone's...appendage. And one time, Emilio Rivera had cut a man with his knives, slowly and steadily for a whole month until he died of blood loss. He was exceptionally skilled with knives, I had heard. 

"We don't hurt chicks, Emilio." I heard Mariano Rivera say. 

Emilio grunted. "Only the Russians would send a pussy."

Then there was a female voice, "I know this is not the time to say this, but vaginas are actually stronger than balls."

Isabelle Forte. The Don's fiancee. She was supposed to be his weakness. And if anything went wrong, I was supposed to use her as leverage over them, remind them of the time Jace Ivankshov, Victor's little brother, had kidnapped her. 

Now, it didn't seem like such a good idea.

"Bella, you go question her. God knows you need the practice." Mariano told her. I breathed a sigh of relief. She wouldn't hurt me much. 

A few minutes passed in silence, then a streak of light broke the spell of darkness, and Isabelle peeked in through the door. She stepped inside gingerly, then looked me up and down.

"Is there a lightbulb.." She muttered to herself, then went around the room and found a switch. A yellow bulb flickered over my head. It was still dim, but I got to look at Isabelle's features.

She was very beautiful. Tall, with dark hair and dark eyes. Everyone in the House had heard of her. Landon Petrov had taken one look at her and he'd been obsessed. He'd even enrolled into her University, befriended her, gotten her kidnapped. Of course, he was dead now. I was glad for that. I had suffered some of my worst days at his hands.

Isabelle looked at me. "Um - who told you to," She sighed, "Why are you naked?"

I didn't know what to say that. Your fiance's men stripped me naked and tied me to this hard chair.

"What is your name?" She asked.

"B-Beth, ma'am." I let out, then cringed. Victor had told me to be strong and put on a brave exterior, but the mask had fallen off too fast. He had also told me to call them by their names. But I really didn't want to make anyone angry.

"I - " Oh, lord. They would kill me if I told them the truth. And what Victor would to me? I didn't even want to imagine that. "To, to deliver dr-drugs."

"To whom?"

"I don't know." I sobbed. "Please, l-let me g-go."

She looked at me sympathetically. But what if she was just a really good actor? "Let me talk to Mariano."

She stalked away, and then there was that deafening silence again. I struggled against the rope that was tight against my wrists. It would surely leave marks. Then again, wouldn't be the first time. 

Ricky would be waiting for me at home. He'd be worried sick. I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming. Why had I gotten into this?

A few moments passed. My whole body ached. My throat was sore from sobbing. The door opened again, I clenched my eyes shut, expecting someone to come in and shoot me in the centre of my forehead. 

"Open your eyes." A gruff voice, laced with contempt, spoke harshly. My eyes fluttered open, and met the light blue irises of Emilio Rivera.

"Name?" He asked, harshly. His voice was deep, his tone hard and scary. His accent was thickly Italian.

"B-Beth, sir." I let out.

Emilio crouched down in front of me. I hated the position I was in. My legs were spread and tied apart. He could see... everything.

He took my chin in between in his fingers and pushed my head back. "I don't want short forms of your name, girl." His grip tightened slowly. It hurt.

"Bethany." I gasped. "Pl-please."  I didn't know what exactly I was begging for. Mercy? Maybe.

"Bethany what?" He snapped. He looked like his patience was wearing off.

"St-st-stewart."

"I hear from Isabelle that you were here to deliver drugs. Let me see if you have some stuffed up your cünt." Emilio said lowly, his gaze level with mine. I gasped.

"There's nothing. I swear. Please. I'm sorry." I cried, sobbing hard.

Emilio smirked. Then he reached down and swiped a finger...down there.

I gasped.

"Ah," he sighed, "You're wet, little mouse. Do you want me to fuck you, piccola?"

(Little)

I shook my head hard. I wanted him to leave.

He stood up abruptly. He wasn't touching me anymore. It was a welcome relief.

"I don't think you have anything up your püssy." He mused. "Do you have it up for ass then?"

My eyes widened. "N-no, sir. I promise. There's n-nothing."

He smirked. "Nice little girl. How did you end up here?"

I let out a deep breath, waiting for the sobs to subside so I could speak clearly. "I-I needed the m-money. Sir."

Emilio frowned. "How much were they paying you?"

"My brother's college tuition." I said. It was the first sentence I had said clearly.

"Fucking Russians." He cursed. "Well, I don't think you're going back now."

I nodded. I had understood that. I said a quick prayer in my head asking God to protect Ricky.

"Wh-what will you d-do to m-me, s-s-s-sir?"

"Maybe we'll sell you." He said. "Maybe give you to someone as a gift."

"S-sell me?" I whispered, shocked. "Please, s-sir. I can't do that st-stuff."

Emilio smiled. "You'll learn, girl."