*Trigger warning!*
Chapter 6
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she trudges towards the kitchen, vowing not to let Carlos and his manipulative hands anywhere near her. Although he's a cold-hearted bastard, she knows that she played just as much of a part in last night romp as he did. And it's all the fault of her damned self-resolve around him. One kiss and she's gone. Clearly with her self-control lacking, there's only one thing she can do and that's to maintain her distance with him.
"Eek!" she squeaks in surprise seeing him sat there in his suit sipping what smells like coffee.
"Good, you're up."
"Clearly but what are you doing here?" she responds passively moving towards the coffee pot herself and pouring the liquid gold.
"Taylor will be arriving shortly but before that there are a few things I need to discuss with you," he states.
She spins around at that statement, perching opposite him and raising an eyebrow.
"Discussing? I don't think you have the capability of doing that Carlos, without being a total asshole."
His eyes narrow but he silently slides towards a few things on the counter towards her. The removal of his large hand reveals to Lola a few surprising items. Ones she had no idea that he'd ever consider giving to her.
"What is this?" she whispers.
"Cash, change and credit card. The piece of paper has the pin number for it on, memorise it then tear it up. There's a $500 limit on it, if you go into overdraft, I will know."
Limits? Credit card? Money? What?
"What is this for? I don't understand."
She can comprehend he's letting her leave the house but is he seriously giving her a spending allowance?! That's outrageous! She's not some kid.
"You have an interview tomorrow, I expect you will need some formal wear. And any other necessary items that were missed during your transition."
She glares at him for that, "I don't want your blood money. I have my own money-"
"No, no, you have no money to your name piccola," he snorts with amusement, "everything that is yours is mine. I said I would not kill your father, not clear his debt. Besides, the money on there is also expected to go towards the purchase of groceries and household goods; which you will now be expected to take care of."
Lola can't help staring at the cash (physical and non) before her. Who wouldn't want the free cash? But this isn't just some hand-out. This money wasn't acquired through legal, moral means. He gotit from his mob activity-from killing and torturing people. How can her conscious possibly be okay spending this? And it's not like she has a choice. She does need some formal wear and she could do with some make-up, plus accessories too.
"Or I could just go back and get the rest of my stuff," she pipes with a sudden thought. Plus that way she could see her father as well.
"Not a chance. Taylor's been instructed specifically as well not to let you anywhere near there, or anywhere downtown for that matter."
She slumps in her seat, so much for that idea. Maybe though...maybe she can somehow give them the slip. How hard can it possibly be? If Bella Swan and Oliver Queen can do it, then surely she can as well. Besides, isn't it just as simple as going to the bathroom and slipping out a window? Hope rises in her chest again; this would be a great opportunity. There are many ways she can trick a male baboon, especially as a female. A small smile appears on her lips as the ideas start flowing. Lingerie purchasing, Ob-Gyn appointments...easy.
Lola's brainstorming session is cut short by the knocking at the front door. She sips the last drop of her coffee before watching Carlos open the door to this mysterious Taylor. Her view is blocked momentarily by him but as soon as he sidesteps to close the door and allow Taylor to enter, Lola's eyes pop and her jaw slackens. Her mind frazzles as her heart stutters momentarily. All her plans, her hope, her escape fly out of the metaphorical window because 'Taylor' is not a male baboon, but rather a slim, brunette with remarkably feminine features.
Shit.Shit.Shit.
How the hell is she meant to escape her female bodyguard?! Or rather glorified babysitter.
"Miss Beaumont, this is Taylor," introduces Carlos as Lola stumbles to her shaky feet.
Her gaze swings over to him and beneath his cool exterior, she can feel his smugness. Fury swarms through her and she forces herself to mirror his polite coldness.
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance Ms Taylor-"
"Just Taylor will do Miss Beaumont," replies the woman robotically.
Lola is taken by surprise but she simply nods in agreement. If not for the slight splattering of freckles along the ridge of her nose and tops of her cheeks, Lola could have sworn she could pass for some robot drone. Everything about her just seems so cold, bland and dead. Her hair is a chestnut brown, medium length but tied into a high, tight ponytail. Her features are sharp and angular-model like actual, as is her height and probably frame. But she disguises that in an awful shapeless brown suit.
"Taylor you remember our agreement?" Carlos says it so quietly to Taylor that Lola almost misses it.
She peaks under her lashes to discreetly observe Taylor's expression. All she needs is just the tiniest hint of sympathy or empathy or anything that indicates she feels bad about this whole affair-only Taylor blankly nods once at Carlos. Great-just great.
"Okay, in that case-Lola I will see you tonight."
Lola simply shrugs as he picks up his briefcase and leaves for whatever shady business he's got.
Left alone with Taylor she assess the woman again, head to toe only to note that nothing has changed. She still remains as rigid as ever, except this time her unnerving dark eyes remain trained on Lola. Suppressing the urge to flinch back, Lola simply slides the empty mug onto the counter and stands.
"So Taylor, how long have you worked for Carlos?" she starts, trying to keep her voice upbeat.
"About 5 years, Ma'am."
The answer is direct providing no further explanation.
"Oh and what do you think of him, Taylor?"
Taylor gives a short rise and fall of her narrow shoulder, "he is a fair employer."
"An employer? Is that all he is?" retorts Lola with a small sarcastic smirk playing at her lips.
She notes in glee as Taylor's eyebrows twitch slightly in annoyance-one of the first emotion's she's seen from the woman since.
"Yes, Miss Beaumont. Will we be leaving soon?"
"Sure. I suppose we do have all day to get to know each other," slyly grins Lola broadening her grin at the flash of annoyance that briefly crosses the woman's dull blue eyes.
With that she bounces into her room to get dressed with what limited clothes she has available. Emerging in just a simple pair of dark jeans, white gypsy top under a light denim jacket and sneakers, Lola adds a headband to her hair before shoving the objects Carlos had given her into her bag.
"Alright then? Shall we?" she chirps, smothering the frown that threatens her face as she notes that Taylor has just stood in the exact same spot the whole time.
The woman simply nods, opening the door for her. With a gracious smile, Lola sweeps past, about to take the key from Taylor as soon as she finishes locking the door. Only Taylor pockets it inside her jacket pocket.
"Mr Castellano, insisted I keep it," she offers as explanation.
The brief confusion morphs into annoyance in Lola at the absurdity of Carlos's actions. He gives her his credit card yet not the key to the apartment she's forced to co-habit in?
"Fine. Whatever. Let's go."
"Ma'am? Where are you going?"
"To catch the bus of course," replies Lola.
"Actually Mr Castellano has provided transport and insists I drive of course."
"Of course," sarcastically bites back Lola as she's ushered into the BMW with which she also assumes Carlos has fitted those damn child-safety locks.
As Taylor rounds the car, she checks and yep. Just as she's presumed there's no way she can roll out of this vehicle when they're stuck in traffic.
"Where to first Ma'am?" she asks igniting the engine.
Lola perks up slightly, "the mall."
Lola deflates again as she realises that a Tuesday afternoon is not the mall's busiest time. With a groan she looks around, deciding that seeing as she's here, she may as well make the most of it.
Taylor silently follows as Lola trails into the first shop. Eyeing and fingering the clothing as she passes, she can't help but take a double take when spotting the smart fire engine red, peplum dress. It's bold. Brash. Definitely not something she'd have ever considered before but then again, clothes like that wouldn't be something she'd have needed then. Checking the price, Lola inhales sharply. Yep, she definitely wouldn't have bothered with it before. But now...Well...there's no harm in trying it on.
Unfortunately, one dress turns into countless tops, trousers, and more dresses. With both her hands and Taylor's hands full, Lola shuts herself in the changing stall before starting excitedly on the first few items of clothing. Somewhere between the 10th top and the 5th dress, an idea strikes Lola. Albeit, a simple one to get Taylor away for a while, but it may just work. Hopefully.
Unzipping the royal blue number, she peeps her head around the slightly ajar door.
"Taylor," she hisses catching the attention of the woman sat on the strange, uncomfortable looking leather cube chair.
"Yes, Miss Beaumont?" she asks standing and buttoning the ugly blazer.
"Hey, look this one's too small. Think you can go grab me the next size up?" Lola asks innocently, playing it up slightly with the slight chewing of her bottom lip.
Taylor hesitates for a minute before rolling her shoulders back and shaking her head.
"I'm sorry Ma'am but my instructions are clear. I am not to be more than a few feet from you," she apologises insincerely.
Lola sighs and nods.
Closing the door again, she growls at the back of her throat and rolls her eyes. Looks like she'll have to come up with a better way to get rid of Taylor.
Handing the super smiley assistant the majority of the clothes, Lola clutches in her hand the few items she'd fallen in love with. Nearing the cash counter, she hesitates-toying with the plastic in her hand. This money...It's not hers. It's not earned in the right way-in the legal way. But should she care? Can she bring herself not to? To compromise her integrity and just do as she pleases. No. No, she can't.
However, she does need some work appropriate clothing. Especially, if she hopes to land this job. And if she gets the job...she can pay him back.
The logic, still seems unsettling, but Lola knows she has no other option.
Taylor watches with bewilderment as the spoilt little girl seemingly pauses before the register. She has no idea why Carlos is so intent on her protection because apart from the obvious beauty, Taylor simply can't sense anything more special about her. Nonetheless, Carlos is Carlos and she can't say no to such a small request. Plus despite her insistence-he's still paying her. Although...if this is how she's going to be spending her day, then at least money is some sort of severance.
"Ready for the next one, Taylor?" grins the mischievous Miss Beaumont.
Taylor internally groans but outwardly nods passively.
Countless hours later and Taylor's truly regretting ever agreeing to this gig. Although, in all honesty, it could be worse. She could be stuck guarding some self-entitled rockstar or heiress. Still she'd rather not, spending all her time trailing around a woman who insists on trying on every half-decent piece of clothing or accessory.
"Ma'am, it is nearing 1. Perhaps we should break for lunch?"
Lola spins around, blinking at the clearly agitated bodyguard before pouting slightly.
"Oh? Are you hungry, Taylor?" she asks projecting the illusion that she herself is not craving about a hundred burgers right now.
However, she needs to do this. Taylor's too good to slip up unless...Unless, she's tired and hungry. After all, she knows from experience that a tired and hungry woman makes for an agitated, angry woman, which makes for mistakes and slip ups.
"Well, if you don't Ma'am I could do with a drink and snack," mutters back Taylor, sacrificing her pride for the admittance of substance.
"Sure, then let's go," brightly replies Lola leading them into the nearest supermarket.
The fact it's lunch time, means the queues are long and places are busy. It's exactly the stroke of good luck, Lola's needs. With them waiting in line, Lola pretends to remember something vitally important.
"Oh my God, Taylor I will be right back, now that you mention it, I am a little peckish as well. I'm just going to grab a sandwich, real quick-"
"No wait-Ma'am. I really should accompany you-"
"Taylor look at the line. Look at the time. Honestly, after this we can go back. I'll be very quick. Stay here-"
"Miss Beaumont...Really I-"
But it's too late, Lola's already bounding off, much to the disgruntlement of those in the line behind them. Taylor debates between following her and staying. There's only two more people in front of her, they've been waiting for ages now and that has left her feeling more than ravenous.
She glances back, sighing in relief when she can spot the woman in her sights. She pauses at the sandwich section, debating on her choice and with the knowledge Taylor keeps her position in line.
Lola glances back discretely noting that in a few seconds, Taylor will have to go to the register and there in that moment she will have only a few seconds-minutes-to make her move. She counts down...
5...4...3..2...
And it's go time.
Taylor gives her a brief gap where she has to go up to the register and in that time, Lola darts off. Her freedom is more important than the newly bought clothes so without a second thought, she abandons them. She knows that as soon as Taylor realises she's gone she'll dart to the exit, which is why Lola speedily walks towards the aisles in the shop. Hiding out of sight, she peaks around to watch Taylor quickly realising that she's made a runner. Then thrusting the money at the poor guy behind the tills, the bodyguard rushes to the exact same spot she'd been a few minutes ago.
Lola can see the panic in the woman's demeanour before it turns cold and hard. She slips into professional mode, assessing the area before concluding nothing of use. Then sweeping up the bags, Taylor finally exits the shop.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Lola makes sure to calmly follow after a few minutes later. She watches as Taylor scans the mall trying to catch signs of anyone matching her description, and in that moment Lola is only too glad of her ordinary brown locks and short frame. With one eye on Taylor's location, Lola guides herself carefully around the large shopping complex to one of its many exits.
Outside with her freedom, the fresh air seems to smell even crisper. It's like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders from not being locked up or having anyone constantly crowding her. As impossible as it seems, Lola wants to maintain this. She wants to be able to go and see her father, see the restaurant and her friends but...that's the first place Carlos would look for her. No doubt, Taylor will be placing a call to him soon and by the time it takes her to get there using public transport, he'll most likely already be there. Running and hiding is not an option either. Sure she'll escape him but how long can she really like in that kind of state. And besides, what does she know about being a fugitive? If Lola looks at it realistically, she wouldn't last more than a few days.
She needs help.
Help from the people she should have called the first time Carlos barged into her Café and life.
She needs the police.
Although she knows where the police station is, having passed it many times on her way to night classes she used to take, Lola's never actually been inside. The only time, she's ever been in contact with members of the department had been a few years ago, when one of the shops down the road from the Café had been involved in a hit and run. The officers were asking around to see if they'd been a victim of the crime too or had any information regarding it, but Lola hadn't even been aware of it.
But she's never been inside the station.
With a deep breath, Lola hesitantly makes her way into her possible salvation.
Carlos bites back the growl of fury as he listens to Taylor recounting her loss of his asset.
He knows Taylor's good. She's one of the best bodyguards he's ever encountered and usually she'd be so thorough with everything but with Lola, he'd told her that it would be an easy case; that there'd be no need for trackers or disposable phones or any of the usual protocol stuff. Mistakenly he'd thought that keeping her in sight at all times would be enough and even if she tried to run, Taylor could easily catch her. But he hadn't expected her to play Taylor so well. He'd underestimated her and that's something he'll be sure not to do again.
"Carlos...I'm truly sorry. This has never happened before-"
"I know Taylor, I know. I'm well aware this wasn't your doing. She won't have got far, not with her limited resources and contacts," he soundly replies.
Of course, the first place she'd go is back to that damned café and it is for that reason, Carlos sent a few of his men there. Only so far, they've not reported anything.
Though he can't think where else she would go. He'd called her friends, pretending to be an old boyfriend asking to catch up with her, but none had seen her for a while. Then there'd been her old boyfriends, of which she had a grand total of 2. One high-school sweetheart and one less serious one after that. Both had moved out of the state so there was no way she was going there.
In another attempt to track her, he'd checked the credit card he'd given her only to note they'd been used to purchase items solely in the shopping bags that lie at his side.
"Carlos, it seemed like she left out of her own will. There were no signs of a struggle to indicate she'd been taken," points out Taylor, reminding him of her cluelessness to his ties with the Family. Sure, she'd worked out that he's Al Castellano's son-they do have the same surnames-but like many people, he'd told them that he and his father are estranged. And after some convincing, she'd believed him. So it's not like he can tell her now, that in fact, he is still his father's son.
"She's delusional, Taylor. I'm trying to protect her however she doesn't believe that."
Taylor's eyes narrow towards Carlos. Just how much trouble can the pint-sized girl be?
"From whom?"
"My family," darkly omits Carlos, in absolute truth and Taylor nods quickly in understanding.
"Does she have any other family in the US, perhaps?" she suggests and before Carlos can answer her, his desk phone blares out.
"Carlos Castellano, speaking," he answers the pondering of his current situation bringing forth a headache.
"Mr Castellano...Er, this is Detective Smith with the-"
"Yes, what is it Detective?" impatiently cuts Carlos. Until this Lola situation is resolved he really doesn't have time to do anything else.
"I know this is unusual for you Sir which is why I'm calling. There's a woman here, claiming you blackmailed and coerced her. Should I send her on her way and er...hope this complaint doesn't get lost in the system like the others?" enquires the Detective.
With his family, countless files and complaints have gone 'missing' in the department. Though his numbers twindle, his brother more than makes up for it. Rape cases, murder, abuse-all swept under and as much as this tears a rift in him internally, he has to force himself to forget about it. There's very little he can do about it and this is his family. He simply can't go against them.
Although, in this one instance he is relieved for the power the Castellano name has to this town.
"I'm on my way. And I do believe this woman had nothing to report, Detective," heavily implies Carlos to which he only gets a resounding 'of course, Sir' to.
Lola taps her foot impatiently against the hard flooring wondering where on Earth that damned Detective is. He seemed nice enough and listened intently to everything she'd had to say, straight from the start where Carlos had come bursting in and blackmailed her. She wonders what will happen now. Perhaps they'll put her into witness protection or something. Or call the FBI. Or...
Lola stops her musings as she hears the door behind her opening.
"So what now, Detective?" she chirps rotating slightly in her seat.
At the sight before her of the two men, Lola's throat suddenly dries as her eyes widen in fear. She can almost hear the blood pounding through her skull as her muscles clench in fright.
"Carlos..." she whispers fighting the dizziness she feels.
His whole body is tense and unforgiving. His expression like stone as his grey eyes burn with outrage. She can honestly say, she's never seen him look so frightening.
Thankfully as small as the relief is, the Detective standing beside him gives Lola some comfort in that Carlos surely wouldn't do anything to her in the police station.
"Thank you, Detective," grits out Carlos stepping towards Lola.
She instinctively cowers into her seat, yelping in pain as he yanks her by the elbow up.
She's frozen as he drags her out of the station. Any screams of protest are lodged in her throat and before she knows it, he's thrown her into the passenger seat and shut the door.
"Carlos-" she timidly starts, noting his strained grip on the leather of the steering wheel.
"Not one more word, Lola," warns Carlos and usually Lola would rise to his challenging tone but this time, she realises it's not a challenge. It's a warning and the scariest part is she doesn't know if it's for her or for him.
Once again he drags her up to the apartment and apart from the slight hiss of pain at his harsh grip, Lola says nothing.
Tossing her inside the apartment, he shuts the door and passively gazes at her.
"Dinner should be ready at 7. I have work now but rest assured, this is far from over Lola," he spits, almost snarling her name.
With nothing more, Lola is abandoned in the tower as Carlos resumes to wherever he was before.
Holding back the tears that threaten from fear of his wrath, she busies herself with cooking and cleaning.
There's only so much she can do though and as 7 o'clock nears, Lola fiddles with her loose hair. The dread she feels causes nausea in her stomach makes her want to bolt. But where can she bolt? And honestly, look how well that worked last time?! She wears a white flowing dress, with her hair loose and wavy and face make-up free. She hopes the innocent feminine look will cause him to be kinder and she has a feeling this punishment will be more than psychological.
Exactly at 7, he strides in through the door. Offering her nothing as he shuts himself in his room.
A few minutes later and Lola's laid everything out on the table-all that's missing is Carlos. He comes back, minus his briefcase and blazer. Pushing his sleeves to his forearms, Lola watches with anxious anticipation as he simply starts eating.
"Carlos, what did you do to that police man?" she quietly asks.
He had seemed so...genuine. Yet...what was he doing giving her up to Carlos? He should be doing his duty and protecting her.
"It does not concern you. What should is that the cops here...they will never take you seriously. It was a very poor move on your part, Miss Beaumont, to go to the people that we control."
Oh boy, does she know it.
She clears her throat, "right...yeah."
That was stupid. She should have known that but clearly she wasn't thinking straight. The sweet taste of independence from Carlos had been too sweet and caused a minor lapse in judgement, which of course, had cost her the brief flash of independence.
"And fooling Taylor like that....Well the privileges of her service will be revoked," continues Carlos, only to have Lola frown at that.
Well, Taylor will not be missed by her but...if Taylor goes then...
"Wait...Does that mean, I'm not allowed outside anymore?"
"Correct."
"No! Carlos, no! What about L'Anime? My interview with Joseph Bruno?!" she cries with horror.
"Will be cancelled-"
"What? Carlos, wait! Please," she pleads.
Carlos just regards her icily with those steel grey's of his, giving her no indication of being lenient with her. Although, she hopes that if that is the worst of the punishment then she's got of lightly and well at that.
"Clear up and meet me in my bedroom," he simply states rising from the empty plate.
Bedroom? She's never been in that room before and after the encounter in the study, she does not want to go into the dragon's lair. Her hand rises timidly to the door to knock. He owns this whole bloody place, she reminds herself. She's not safe anywhere in here. Would it not be in his bedroom then it would be somewhere else so why fight this? Plus...she must say she is curious to see what lies behind. The door's normally locked and she wonders if he decorates as minimalistic in his sanctuary as he does throughout the rest of the house.
"Come in," he calls as she slips in, leaving the door slightly ajar.
He drops his phone onto the bed before spinning around to take his fill of the tempting angel before him. In just a simple, innocent dress with it's chiffon grazing at the tops of her bare knees; he's well aware that she must have put it on in some vain attempt to seduce him out of her predicament. But how stupid does she think he is? If he allows her to get away with this, then no doubt she'll try it countless more times.
She cautiously walks over to him, her bare toes sinking into the plush cream carpet while she tears her gaze away from him to look around.
His room although showcase worthy, is not much. It's got no sentimental value and that's exactly the way he wants it. The interior designer had decorated it in rich caramel and chocolate tones, which suited him just fine and still does.
As Lola comes to a halt before him, leaving a respectable distance between them, her eyes transfix back to his misty ones.
"Oh piccola," he whispers in a low, dark tone that has Lola's stomach clenching.
He shuffles forwards, his two hands cupping the sides of her face as fingertips graze at the roots of her hair.
She's immediately drawn to him. Her eyes fixed on his dusty pink lips as her skin becomes sensitised to his touch and the smell of his musky cologne entices her.
"You look so tempting, cara, in such an innocent dress; so compliant for once," he continues huskily, one of the hands at her cheeks tracing down the curve of her neck as he pulls her body closer to his.
Pressed flush against him, Lola blinks those big brown eyes of hers as her lips fall slightly apart.
Carlos's own gaze travels to them, noting the softness and plumpness before he focuses again.
The grip at her neck suddenly tightens, as does the one at the head. He holds her in a firm chokehold while keeping her head still with the hand gripping the roots of her hair.
Lola gasps in panic, her hands automatically trying to claw at the grip on her throat. Alarm builds in her while futile tears fill her eyes.
"Carlos," she gasps trying to breathe.
His grip remains firm and as she forces herself to gulp down the hysteria, she realises that he's not cutting off her airways...yet. Her hands remain over his at her neck, but she stops fighting to remove the hold, knowing it's futile.
Sensing her easing into his hold more, Carlos lowers his lips against her ear. Unable to help himself he traces the soft flesh with his lower lip before giving his warning.
"Listen to me very carefully Lola because I will only give you pardon just this once. Do anything like this again and I will strip you naked, tie you against this bed and allow anyone I wish to do whatever they want to you...with or without your consent," he murmurs his voice like melted chocolate as it glides down her ears, before his words are finally descrambled in her very scrambled brain.
She feels herself quiver at the promise in them and for the second time today, she is deathly afraid of Carlos Castellano.
He lays a gentle kiss just beneath her ear, but she's in too much shock to register it.
"You are mine, piccola. Everything yours is mine. Anything I want to do to you, I will. So being docile will save you a lot of pain and misery," he continues.
A sob bubbles at Lola's throat but she clamps her trembling lips to stop it resounding throughout the room.
She remains frozen as the hand at her throat trails down to cup her right breast. His other hand roughly forces her head up so that she's forced to meet his gaze.
His thumb traces her soft lower lip as he takes his fill of those murky brown depths filled with so much terror. She looks so fucking beautiful that he can't help the lust storm through him, urging him to do as he pleases to her-regardless of her own state of mind. He places that primal, brutal notion down his Castellano genetics. Bad blood and all. But somewhere amongst that, in the ocean of his morality, self-hatred surges forth. The fear, the terror, the pain in Lola's eyes, appeals to his shredded sense of integrity.
"Get on your knees," he states indifferently.
The dark browns widen and her eyebrows crinkle.
"What? No...Carlos, please," she softly pleads but he offers no compassion.
The grip at her hair tightens and he hardens himself as he watches her wince in pain.
"I won't repeat myself again-get on your fucking knees."
Biting her tongue, Lola focuses on trying not to let those tears of despair slip. She sinks to her knees, holding onto the little composition she has by keeping her eyes shut, while Carlos's hands tangle in her loose locks again. He forces her head up and she can feel his burning gaze as his thumb dips into her mouth.
She gives no resistance to the digit, but she can't feign the same indifference in herself. Her actions may be meek and submissive but her attitude certainly isn't. He has to see what he's making her do. The coercion and blackmail he's forcing upon he-he must burden its heavy weight. And she damn well refuses not to show that.
"Please...Don't make me do this," she breathes, her eyes expressing unguarded anguish.
"I've been too generous with you, Miss Beaumont and it's about time you learnt your place around here," he growls in retort, slipping one hand from her tresses and using it to unbuckle his belt.
He doesn't want force her do this but this is the only way she'll learn. It has to be like this. Other than fear, how else can he make her obedient?
"No! No, Carlos please, please," she protests, palms raised to his thighs and pressing back. She tries to twist her head away, but his sharp tug only ceases the movements.
"Please," she sobs, the crystal drops sliding from beneath pressed lashes down her cheeks.
Even though she can block out the sight of him, she can't block out the sounds and the sound of his zipper being tugged has her heart thundering even faster.
Suddenly a buzzing rings out and for a moment Lola thinks it's her hopeful conscious. Only Carlos notices it too and his grip loosens.
Reaching to the side, he grasps his phone off the bed and almost sighs as he realises he has to go.
Stepping away from her, he fixes himself before regarding her.
"Consider yourself lucky, piccola. It seems I need to take care of some business," he comments, grabbing his necessary things and leaving.
It's only upon hearing the front door slamming shut, that Lola can let out the shuddering gasps of the psychological torment. She swipes away the tears and seeks within herself to find some ounce of strength to push herself to her feet. Huddling inwards, she shuffles into her own bedroom, tearing off the damned dress and crawling underneath the sheets.
She wants to block it all out. She wants to block out his intentions, his words-him. It's like she can feel her soul cracking at what he nearly made her do. And who's to say he would have stopped there? She can't...She just can't allow herself being used like that by him at being...raped by him.
Even that word has disgust curling throughout her entire being.
She truly had been saved by fate and for that she is utterly grateful.
Meanwhile, Carlos parks up at one of the warehouses owned by his family. It's a fair distance from the city, lying on the border of the suburbs and anyone who's anyone knows not to go into that neighbourhood at night. Parking up he, grabs the gun from his dashboard and double checks the safety is on before exiting the car. Tucking it behind him, forces himself to focus. He can't be thinking of Lola or his morals now. It must all be put behind him for now.
A few boys guard the front entrance and they simply nod their head at Carlos.
"He in there?" he asks to them.
"Yep. Marco's in there too," replies the employee.
Striding in, Carlos is not surprised when the place is dimly lit apart from the centre, where a man is tied to the chair and his brother Marco looms over him.
A few feet in front of him, sits his father in a wooden chain with a small table beside him, sipping at a bourbon.
Boys in suits stand around-one at his father side and a few around Marco.
"Carlos," calls his father as he stalks closer. His brother takes a break, glancing over at him with a smirk and that sadistic glint in his eye.
If Carlos thinks he's fucked up then he has no idea what to call Marco. Marco is deadly, smart and loyal. He's also sadistic, which is yet another reason his father prefers Marco in such...dealings rather than him. To which Carlos is only too thankful for. The violence has been taught to him from a very young age but it's not something that he enjoys or wants to be a part of. But no one says no to Al Castellano. Especially not his son.
"Padre," greets Carlos bending down and kissing his father lightly on both cheeks as is custom between family in their culture.
"Marco...Take Diego for a ride," hoarsely commands his father.
The man may be short but his entire demeanour makes up for it. The dark brows, the greying hair that once used to be black, the sturdy frame; he is a formidable man by all means. As physically strong as he is, he's just as strong in his personality.
"No...No...Don Castellano, please...Don!" cries the tied up man, the split in his lip causing some of his words to spit. Carlos casts a gaze at the poor sod that has gotten in his father's way-by the looks of him, he seems like some low-life double crosser. Probably thought he could get away with whatever he stole but of course, Alberto 'Al' Castellano does not allow thieves to take from him.
Carlos watches as one of the boys brings a jute sack over the now gagged victim. Oh boy, his father loves traditional methods and 'taking a ride' is one of them. The person would be gagged and bound, before being thrown into a sack and dragged along the road in the back of a car. If they survive that then they'd usually be beaten and finally to make extra sure they were dead, it would be a sprinkling of bullets.
While his father is acutely aware of his sickness for the torture, Carlos is forced to remain passive to it. Sometimes even use the gun but he's apparently 'too soft' at the torture, which of course is where Marco comes in. A quick kill is never satisfactory to his older brother. Just as a quick fuck or quick drink isn't either.
"So Carlos...Have you settled the business with that Frenchman?" asks his father, taking out a cigar and clipping it. Holding it out, one of the boys lights it for him and he takes a deep puff.
"Beaumont? Yes."
"Riccardo says you never called. Did you dispose of the body yourself?"
Riccardo is one of Al's right hand men-the one who handles of body disposal.
"No. I did not kill him.-"
"I will not have my son going soft on me, Carlos," warns his father.
"I found a better alternative-a more profitable one. He has a daughter, who I have. She will earn back the money he owes too. Plus, this way he will have to live with the guilt of having to sell his own daughter for his mistakes," explains Carlos.
Hearing his father's throaty chuckles, Carlos relaxes fractionally, knowing he's pleased the old man. His father knows by now that while Marco is the force, Carlos is the brain.
"Good. Where are you keeping the girl?"
"With me. I needed a housekeeper and cook," he shrugs.
"Is that all she does for you Carlos?" comes the smug questioning of his brother.
A hand claps on his back and Carlos grins back at him with a shake of his head.
"Maybe...maybe more. But you know I don't share my toys Marco, so don't even think about it," warns Carlos good naturedly but his underlying message is serious.
The very reason he decided on handling this case is because he knows Marco. And now that he's got to know Lola a little more, he knows that breaking Lola's fiery attitude would be Marco's utmost pleasure.
"Boys...Boys...enough," states Al causing Carlos and Marco to cease their teasing immediately.
Their topic switches to business and Al Castellano fills Carlos on what he's missed so far about the-as Carlos suspected-thief. Speaking of who...The jute sack is dragged back in and dropped onto the concrete floor.
Whereas before, the brown was in near perfect condition, there are dark stains of wine red seeping through while, some parts of the jute is fraying.
At his father's order, the rope is cut open and the bag is pushed down to see the thief's head.
Carlos can barely make out a face amongst the blood and torn flesh, so it's only from years of practice that he can stop himself becoming sick or flinching at the sight.
"You knew this was going to happen Diego. No body steals from me," darkly states Al Castellano flickering the ashes of his cigar onto the floor.
His lips twitch and Alberto looks towards Carlos, nodding at him to end this.
Slipping the gun out of his trousers, Carlos flicks off the safety before extending his arm in the direction of Diego's battered head. With his cold, hard eyes unflinching, it only takes a slight twitch of his finger to end a man's life.
That night Carlos returns home to silence. The whole apartment is silent and before his shower, he can't help but pause outside Lola's bedroom. Hearing no indication of the soul wracking sobs that he has for the past few days, he breathes in relief.
That night, after scrubbing himself only physically clean, Carlos can't sleep. Just like most nights, his sins weigh down on him most at his state of unconsciousness. And he deserves it, Carlos knows he deserves it. All that darkness. All that evil. Were it not for basic need and exhaustion, he would never sleep. Yet today, of all days, he feels even more weighted. It's not just the killing of Diego but also what he nearly made Lola do. A killer is one thing but a rapist? He never before considered himself that but now...He's not sure anymore. Lola...
It comes back to her again.
He's too restless and in his sudden, delusional thoughts he sees only one solution.
Lightly treading to her bedroom, he softly opens the door and allows himself inside. There huddled in one side of the bed with the sheets raised above her shoulders lies the most pure thing Carlos has in his life.
He gently lifts the sheets up at one side and slides in. Shuffling along, he lies just so he can feel the soft heat from her back. He knows he would much rather have her pressed against him but for now this will do. Maybe it is stupid and this is all some crazy way of him to try find his redemption but he hopes that just being near her will ease his burden. She may not be some pure, innocent angel but she's the closest thing to one he has right now and it may be utterly ludicrous and selfish, but he desperately wants some of that goodness to penetrate his dark soul.
A/n I hope this is long, it felt long to me writing it. Anyway, sorry for the late update but hope this makes up for it! :) So....Carlos is still a bad guy and I thought I should show that a little more-what'd you think?
Anyway, updates back to 2 weeks. And hopefully, I'll be able to stick to it. Sorry if the end doesn't make sense. It's really late here, I'm tired and nothing is making sense anymore.
Thanks for reading guys and have a great rest of the week. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on the chapter :D x