Shît is about to hit the fan...
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Humiliated, I sat in that laundry room a good ten minutes, barricading the door with my back and praying to God that I would wake up in my bed in my apartment and it'd all be just an awful dream.
After gathering whatever dignity I had left, I stuck my chin up high, pulled up my pool water-soaked shorts, took a deep, calm breath, opened the door, and fled out of that laundry room like the police were hot on my trail.
I raced through the kitchen, originally planning on going straight to my bedroom and hiding forever, when I discovered a group of mafia men heartedly laughing at a video of Fico and I from literally fifteen minutes before.
Tip toeing to the men; I watched the video over one of their burly shoulders. I watched myself charge at Fico on the phone screen, hit his hard stomach, slip, and then face planted onto the patio.
Unseen by the crowd of laughing testosterone, I poked at my swollen forehead and winced. That couldn't be good.
"Who is this chick?" one of the men asked around laughter.
"I don't know. God, I'd fück those tits so hard..."
"I heard she's some whøre who owes Fico money," another man said. "I wish she owed me money."
My fingers clenched into fists. Fire should have come out of my nostrils, I was so mad.
"That's IT!" I tore between the muscular men, dipping under arms and elbowing someone in the gut.
"It's her!" a man whisper-yelled, as if I was some myth.
Someone slapped my ass from behind. I kicked back like a donkey, nailing them right in the balls.
"Well, look at this." Another man, a little older than Fico, with a tattoo curving over his one eyebrow, grabbed my shoulder. "Looks like someone likes it rough, boys. Why don't we take her to the basement and give her a warm welcoming, on Fico's behalf?"
They nodded in agreement.
I smacked his meaty hand off of me. "Touch me again," I started slowly, grinding it out between my teeth, "and I'll fücking cut your dîck off in your sleep and wear it as a necklace!"
The men around me grew dead silent, and Tough Guy grew as pale as a sheet.
"Damn," a man muttered to my left. "She's crazy..."
"And almost scarier than Fico when he's angry," commented another.
"Get out of my way!" I tore through the rest of the men, snatching the phone away from the stranger holding it for all to see.
"Hey!" Phone Owner shouted. "That's a fückin' new phone, woman! Relax!"
I got up in Phone Owner's face, keeping his cell out of reach behind my back. "No, YOU relax, man! And I don't fückin' CARE!" I then smashed the phone over and over again against the kitchen counter, threw the device at the wall, turned, and glared at the men behind me. "Who said I was a whøre?!" I demanded. "Who said it?" I clapped my hands, ushering them to hurry. "Let's hear it, I have things to do!"
Everyone looked at the guy to the right of me, who was holding an untouched bagel in his hand.
I snatched the bagel out the perpetrator's hands, slapped him hard across the face, and then turned back to the men gawking at me.
"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" I roared, a possessed woman flailing her arms out with a bagel in one hand.
Horrified, the men quickly made a path for me like I was Moses and they were the red sea.
"Thank you for your cooperation," I said calmly.
I flipped my short, wet hair over my shoulder, took a huge bite of my bagel, and sashayed confidently out of that kitchen as if my forehead wasn't throbbing in pure agony, and my self-worth had diminished to a single grain of sand.
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Once I was in my temporary room and alone, I peeled out of my wet clothes, stepped under the warm water, and showered until the steam in the bathroom made it too unbearable to breathe.
Minutes later, I was padded back into the bedroom with freshly brushed teeth and hair and a towel wrapped around myself. There was a young maid in the bedroom who had just finished vacuuming by the way she was wrapping up the chord, and Dana, who was on the phone with someone and pacing on the carpet.
Dana spotted me. "Hey, Samantha." She pressed a button on her Bluetooth, assumedly ending a call. But who really knew with Dana, right? "I, uh...I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to get you in trouble." The way she looked at me gave it away. She knew. Abut everything. "I didn't know you would—"
"How the hell has word traveled so fast?"
"What--?"
"Dana, girl, your face is an open book." I adjusted the towel around myself, so that it was tighter. "How the hell do you know about the video already? Did it go viral, or something?"
Dana turned beat red. "And the pool video," Dana added lowly. "It's gone viral at the estate, and it's on YouTube..."
"WHAT?!" I burst out. "It's on YouTube?"
"Yes, and Facebook." Dana shifted on her feet and cleared her throat. "And Twitter..."
"This is unreal!" Frustrated, I ran my hand quickly up and down over my face. When I stopped, I looked towards the bed, and there was the short floral dress that Dana had been holding for me earlier in the morning, matched with cute sandals and a necklace.
"You are supposed to get changed in that and follow me to the sun room," Dana explained.
"He wishes I'd wear that dress." I moved past Dana to one of the dressers in the room. "Let me tell you, Dana, I might be a prisoner here, and I might already be in a lot of shit with Fico already, but I'm not getting dressed in some slütty outfit again for that psychopath. And I'm telling that to your Bluetooth, because Fücko's probably listening in on this conversation again--!"
The bedroom door swung and in came the man of the hour himself. "You won't need to tell the Blue Tooth, Samantha, I've been right outside. Dana, leave us," he snapped, those silver eyes trained on me from the moment he entered the room. Dana briefly looked at me, almost in hesitation, before she fled from the room.
And then we were alone.
My heart skipped a beat. Fück.
Fico stepped further into the room, reminding me of panther stalking towards its food. And he fit the part, too. He'd changed into black dress shirt, which had the first two buttons undone, exposing bit of his tanned skin, and wore matching dark slacks.
Fico glanced at my towel, and I realized I was now clutching to my body like shield. His eyes darted up to my face, and a slow, lascivious smile danced on his sensual lips. Then he looked away from me.
"Cucciola," Fico said casually, running a finger down the dress on my bed.
"Fücko. How's the stab wound? If you keep limping like that, I'm going to have to go to the Amazon Rainforest myself and get you a parrot for your shoulder."
"How's your forehead?" he asked without missing a beat. "It's starting to look like Pinocchio's nose when he lies, yes?"
Flustered, I touched the bump on my forehead. I brought my hand down and grated my teeth together. "My forehead is just peachy, thank you!"
"Peachy, just like your püssy," he fired back, with a real big, arrogant grin.
At that, I was momentarily stunned. I could feel all the blood in body rush to my face. I locked my jaw so that it wouldn't fall to the ground, smash through the floorboards and foundation, and land straight in hell.
"Did you finish up when I left you dripping on that washer machine?" Fico asked, still grinning.
"You haven't heard the rumor?" I asked. "About me and Ben in the laundry room?"
Fico's grin fell a little. "What rumor about you and Ben in the laundry room?" he asked.
I hadn't meant my question sexual. I was merely curious if he'd found out about Ben barging in on me half-naked, but Fico's tone and slight dip in expression said it all. He'd seen it as sexual.
And if I didn't know any better, I'd say he was a little jealous, too.
"Oh..." I twirled a strand of my wet hair. "See, I thought you knew. Benjamin came to my rescue. Definitely...to my rescue." I bit down on my lip and looked off to an imaginary place.
"You fücked Ben in the laundry room, after I left?"
"Why do you sound so surprised?" I retorted. "I'm obviously just a fücking whøre to you, and you obviously want to fück me no matter who I am or what I've done. So we can stop beating around the bush."
Fico's phone rang before he could reply. He looked at the ID and ignored it.
"Samantha, I didn't come in here to hear stories about your vàgina adventures," Fico said. I'd never seen an expression so stone cold. "I came here to remind you and you are supposed to do as I say." He stepped closer to me and jabbed at the air in front of us as emphasis. "There is no other option. There is no shortcut. There is no if. There is no mediator. My word is law here. Law, yes?" He stepped closer and a muscle twitched in his jaw. "And when you break my laws, there are consequences. How many times do I have to remind you of this until you get it, cucciola? Do you need to be locked in the basement again, is that it?"
My breath caught in my throat a little. "I know that there are consequences."
"Then why the fück would you come at me with a knife this morning? Again?"
"B-because," I stuttered out. "Because I don't want to fücking be here, Fico! In a prison!"
"A prison?" His laughter sent a chill down my back. "I can show you what a prison looks like, cucciola. You're not in a fücking prison!"
He was right. It wasn't. "But I am a prisoner," I insisted. "And the chores you're going to make me do I'm sure will live up to that word. And what about the basement?!" I asked, stuttering slightly. "Is that not a prison?! A cell--?!"
"What did you think would happen once you stabbed me?!" Fico interrupted over me, changing the subject. "Did you think you would just stab me in the chest and strut off the estate like nothing ever happened?"
He got me again. "Yes, actually! Something like that!" I shouted back, stubborn. "And if we're going to talk about where I would have stabbed you, I'd rather stab you in the dîck. But then your fücking girlfriend would grieve a little more than had I taken your life, and we wouldn't want that, would we?!"
Fico's face was now stuck between amusement and absolute rage. "Were you listening in my office when I kicked you out last night?"
"No," I replied, regretting ever bringing the other woman up. "I happened t hear her voice before you, you know, slammed the door in my fücking face!"
Fico looked at me for a moment, as if debating whether or not to tell me anything more or just leave the room. "She's not my girlfriend," he finally said. "She's my...mother."
We looked at each other for a stretch of time, in silence. Suddenly, I braced myself on my knees and let out a burst of laughter so loud, I was certain that even Fico had gotten slightly startled.
"Oh, that was good." Ceasing my laughter, I straightened myself and jabbed a finger in his face. "Bullshit, she was your mother! She had that I 'can't-wait-to-fück-my-boo' voice on! So unless you have a really messed up mother, I don't believe you."
"Stop pointing at me." Fico slapped my hand away from his face. I could tell he was getting uncomfortable, which was an odd change in character for him. "She's nobody," he growled, and then started to leave the room. "Just change into that dress, cucciola. I'll be waiting outside."
"Oh, no you don't!" I raced across the room, blocking his path. "She's nobody? What does that even mean?"
He didn't say anything for a long stretch of time. "We're lovers," he finally said, and then looked away from me. I had no idea he was capable of being as vulnerable as he looked right now. Was he madly in love with this girl? Why would he refer to her has 'nobody', then?
"A secret lover? What is this, 1829?"
"You are getting on my last nerve, cucciola—"
"Who knew a mob bosses life would be more melodramatic than Dawson's Creek!"
"Hilarious." Suddenly, Fico's rage-mode was back on. I was no longer a wall blocking him by the door, but a wall he could crumble to the ground. "I swear to god, cucciola..." He backed me into the corner of the room, caging me in. "And if you open your big mouth and tell anyone about her..." His nostrils flared a little as his thoughts went wild.
"Sheesh, I won't tell anyone!" I quickly ducked under his arm, freeing myself. "Wow, she must be really important to you, huh? Important enough for you to try and get with me, behind her back."
"It's complicated, Samantha."
"What's so complicated about staying loyal to her?" I asked.
"Why do you even care?" he wondered.
"Because I'm the one you're starting to fück with behind her back! And I don't like it!" But even as I said it, I wasn't so sure that was my reason. And I was to disturbed by what could be the true reason of my curiosity.
"I'm not in a relationship with her, cucciola," Fico said lowly. "It's more of an exchange. I've needed her for something, and she only wants sex in return for helping me, so fück her once in a while so I can get what I want."
I couldn't hide my distaste. "You're fücking a woman just because you want something from her? That's pretty messed up."
"You used to fück a pole so that a man would give you money," he snapped. "What's the good damn difference?"
My chest tightened.
"There will be guests arriving soon, who will be staying at the estate for a few days," Fico said, turning his head and showing me his profile. He flicked that silver gaze back at me. "They're potential buyers of my products. I want you to serve some drinks and flirt with them. I want you to entertain. Most of them are teetering between my products and another...competitors. They might need some... persuasion, yes?"
"Persuasion," I echoed dryly, finding the concealed meaning to that word easily. I'd be damned, if I let a random old man fück me. But if he was cute, considering my sexual frustrations, maybe I'd consider it... "And what about the other entertainers here, will they be downstairs?" I asked.
"Some of them will be downstairs as well. You can meet them, since you'll be working very closely with them soon." The last thing I wanted to do was entertain aka fück some random guy so that Fico could get some business. This must have been the decided punishment for me stabbing Fico in the leg and for the events that occurred that morning. When I didn't reply, Fico tilted his head a little, smiling that smile that made me want to slap it right off his face. "Aren't you going to ask me what'll happen if you don't entertain my guests, cucciola?"
If anything, I wanted to ask him why'd he kissed me in the pool? But alas, I could tell Fico was no longer in the mood for any games, and held my tongue.
"Perché non mi rispondi?" He put two fingers under my jaw and tilted my head up. "Why you don't you respond? I asked you a question, Samantha."
My eyes lit to flames, but my chest was tightening more than ever before. I couldn't wait to get my revenge on this monster. "What'll happen if I don't entertain your guests?"
"First, I'll put you on your knees, right where you stand, and have someone hold your hands behind your back." Fico's voice was faking joyful, and he brought our bodies closer, if that was at all possible, and leaned down, until our faces were dangerously close. "Then I'll pull your hair, so that you're looking up at me with those pretty blue eyes..." With his free hand, he slid his hand up my thigh, to play with the end of my towel. "And prop something in your mouth to keep it nice and wide. That way, I could fück your mouth, in front of everyone else in that room." He paused, and I could tell he was breathing a little quicker. "Do you know what a spider gag is, cucciola?" His face morphed into fury with his next threat. "Because I have a pink one that would look fantastic on you."
A mix of fear and something darker sunk low into my core. There had been other rooms at Orlando's club where I pole danced, where women with different...talents...than my own, brought men. The doors were left open, for security reasons. I'd passed by those rooms a few times and... seen things. But one of those times, I stopped entirely in my tracks and simply couldn't walk past what I'd seen. There was a woman on her knees, with a gag prying her mouth open, and a man unzipping his pants in front of her...
I snapped myself out of my thoughts, feeling as though the room was now a thousand degrees.
"I'll put on the dress and meet you in the hallway," I finally said, and caught my tongue before I added psycho.
"Meet my in the hallway in no longer than ten minutes," Control Freak said. "One second longer, and I'll come in and pull you out, no matter how you look. I have myself clear, yes?"
"Crystal," I beamed.
Fico narrowed his eyes at me, skeptical of my smile, and then thankfully left the room for me to get changed. I wondered if he honestly thought I'd let what happened in the laundry room slide. Nothing could change the fact that I was still planning my revenge on him from what had happened in the laundry room.
I towel dried my hair in the bathroom and scrunched the short strands with some gel. I quickly painted my face with a little foundation, lip-gloss, and mascara.
I yanked open one of the drawers and was reminded of the razor blade at the back of the drawer. Would I need protection? What if one of the men downstairs tried to hurt me? Or what if Fico tried to hurt me? It was instinctual for me to have something to protect myself with. Don't do it, a tiny voice said, but I ignored it. I needed to protect myself.
But what would happen if Fico discovered I had another weapon on me?
I closed the drawer and stared at the sink for a moment, and then opened the drawer again and took out the razor, placing on the counter.
"Fück you, Fico."
I put on the bra and panties that I'd discovered in one of my drawers, and slipped the little floral dress over my head. It fell a few inches below my ass and was flowy as I swayed my hips in the bathroom mirror. The sandals were from a grand that wasn't even in English, just like the dress, and fit my feet perfectly. As a finishing touch, I decided to add the simple necklace that was on the bed as well.
It fell just above my cleavage, drawing attention to my breasts. If Fico wanted me to flirt with some men to get a new buyer, then god damn it, I was going to show Fico who the boss really was!
Pant for it.
I was about to leave the bathroom, when I looked back at the razor on the counter. Searching through the drawers below the sink, I found a tiny clip and pulled back parts of my hair away from my face. I took the razor blade and carefully weaved between the clip and my hair, so that I wouldn't cut my scalp.
Just a precaution.
It wasn't like I was actually going to kill someone.
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