Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
“Wait, they’re still in there?” I whispered.
“Don’t worry, they can’t hear you. Soundproof walls and a metal door several inches thick, they’d have to be superhuman. And where else would we torture them? Dungeons can be very… convincing.”
I tried not to look surprised as we kept walking past several more torture chambers until he stopped at a giant door right in front of us. It seemed my brother had an entire freaking prison down here.
The lights even flickered like he couldn’t afford electricity, when really, I’m assuming he did it to mess with people’s heads, making them wonder if they would suddenly be thrust into darkness.
I wasn’t sure if I was more proud or terrified.
Santino pressed his thumb to a panel next to the door, a green light flashed where his thumb was, and the door immediately clicked open.
He walked in, holding the door wide.
It was a training room of sorts, though there were a lot of, um… devices that looked medieval on the back wall. I didn’t think I’d ever seen an iron chair, but there it was, sitting in the corner next to the head crusher.
“Mere antiques,” Santino said, watching my eyes widen at the sight. “We rarely use them.”
“Is that a spot of blood, just, um… right there?” I pointed to the chair.
He shrugged. “Rare can have so many different definitions, don’t you think?”
How can he wink at a time like this?
I followed him farther into the room toward the opposite end, where there were a few black gym mats lying on the ground; he still hadn’t dropped his hammer.
I followed him into the blood-red circle.
His eyes gleamed. “Push me out of it.”
“Out of the circle?”
“Yes.”
“Using my feeble strength?” I semi-teased because that would physically be impossible. Plus, I was still in my dress and heels. I kicked off my heels and took a deep breath.
“You could always use your feminine wiles,” he suggested. “In any situation, you have to be prepared to do whatever it takes to survive, so survive.”
“Why are you going to—”
He charged me without any notice.
I quickly ran out of the way, and panic seized my chest as he came at me again with the fucking hammer held high over his head.
I kicked him in the shin; he kept coming. I let him grab me by the throat, and his eyes raked over my face.
“Are you afraid?”
I kneed him in the balls. “Are you?”
He fell over onto the floor, laughing. “Good hit.”
“Was afraid you’d reproduce and create more monsters who carry hammers.” I shrugged.
“Be honest, you love being hammered.” He groaned and jumped to his feet.
I blushed, and that was his opening; he tripped me, sending me sailing onto my back with a huff; my skirt hiked up past my knees, making me look indecent.
His head lowered between my thighs. “Hmmm, maybe you do know how to torture.”
I was completely exposed to him. Every single inch of me. “Touch me and die.”
“Don’t you mean, ‘touch me, and I’ll die’?”
“I hate you right now.”
His massive body pressed me onto the mat almost so hard that I couldn’t breathe. “This is where you use your hate, little one.”
“How? You said you’d train me!” I struggled against him.
“Only through hate do you win,” was his answer as he leaned back on his knees. “If someone has you on your back, you go limp. If your arms are free, use your hand to do this.” He made a motion with his fingers and basically came just short of gauging my eyes out. “No hesitation.”
“And if I’m trapped?”
“This is where Jiu-Jitsu becomes extremely helpful.” He nodded. “But before we go to the final trainings, I have to teach you how to fall.”
“I just did.”
“No, a controlled fall.” He helped me up and showed me how to roll back and fall. “Hold your knees like this, you can kick better, and they can’t fully mount you.”
I gulped as the room went silent.
“That’s an actual term,” his voice rasped.
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Did I accuse you?”
He cursed and looked away from me, hands on hips. “I’m going to come at you—”
“Mount me then?”
“Be serious.”
I grinned. “Sorry.”
“You’re a child!”
“Didn’t think so an hour ago.”
“What the hell are you two doing?” came a familiar voice as Andrei, Phoenix, Dante, Chase, Sergio, and Tex came into view. Nixon looked ready to rage.
Under my breath, I whispered, “Not it.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Wherever there’s an opportunity, the mafia will be there.” —Johnny Kelly
Santino
I no longer had to imagine how I’d die; I was looking right at it as the bosses glared down at us, anger nearly pouring out of every single expression. No, not anger, complete rage.
Most of them were in black trousers, except Dante, who was wearing ripped black jeans. Several different black and white shirts were open, revealing all of their Family crests tattooed on their chests in different colors depending on which Family they were from. Green, Red, Black, Gray, the list went on.