“My uncle. Sal will destroy you.”
Shane hit him with the pistol upside his head. “Give me a clue where to look next, Gio, or your balls will part from your body and make their way somewhere you’ll never see them again.”
“Fuck, I don’t know.” Tears streamed from his eyes, and the other man started to shake. “Did you try Aunt Sofia’s? I think he visits her sometimes. She’s a lot like Aunt Stefania, so he must love her, right?”
“I don’t think Aldo loves anyone but himself.” Shane put his gun back in his holster and restored the fit of his jacket to hide it. “Get the fuck out of here, Gio, and don’t even think about warning any of your slimy relatives.”
Gio nodded and crawled a few feet before daring to get to his feet to run. He darted around the corner of the alleyway as Bruno came up to him.
“Think he’ll talk, boss?”
“Yeah, probably. Let’s go find Aunt Sofia.” Shane resolved he would try to be gentler with the aunt since she was purported to be like Stefania. That woman had done more for Mia than any other person in her entire life, so he owed her sister a debt too, if she was cut from the same genetic cloth.
20
Mia must have fallen asleep during the procedure. She was surprised to see the light of dawn through the small window in the room where someone had put her. Aldo had let her sleep all night, either because the doctor had convinced him she needed time to recover or because he was playing more of his sick waiting game with her.
Her vagina throbbed when she turned onto her side to survey the space where she lay. It was a Spartan space, with a thin mattress on the floor and a set of chains on the wall. Her heart lodged in her throat when she saw a rack of implements waiting to meet her body in painful and humiliating ways. Why else would he have her here if he didn’t plan to torture her?
Either he had an uncanny sense of timing or the prick had been watching and waiting for her to wake up, because the door scraped open a moment later, and he came bounding in. The sight of Aldo in white scrubs was disconcerting, since she had only seen him in designer wear before. Even his pajamas were expensive couture. She didn’t want to contemplate why he might be wearing clothing that would allow ease of movement and would be cheap enough to throw away if they got stained.
“Good morning, dear sister. Are you feeling purer this morning?”
She glared at him but didn’t answer. Mia tried to avoid wincing as she got painfully to her feet but couldn’t.
He laughed with delight. “Does it hurt? I hope so.” He tipped his head slightly. “You surprised me last night, Mia.”
“How so?” Her voice was raspy, but she wouldn’t ask him for water or anything else.
“You’re always so strong. So damn defiant and superior. You practically invite breaking down, smashing, and destroying.” His tone was somewhere between a whine of frustration and a purr of arousal. “I didn’t expect you to succumb to the easy way out.”
She lifted a brow. “What are you talking about?”
He grinned. “You passed out from the pain. I figured you would endure it. Honestly, I expected you to not utter even a peep.” Aldo looked crestfallen. “You were weak.”
She had definitely overdone the acting. Struggling to appear nonchalant, she lifted a shoulder. “We all have our frail moments. Let’s see you go through something like that without anesthetic and find out how long you last.” Raking him with a dismissive glance, she waved a hand. “There’s no point though. We both already know you’re feeble, Aldo. That’s why you like to molest young girls and impose your will on those who are weaker.”
His mouth tightened. “Same old bitchy Mia. I’d hoped O’Mara might have tamed that tongue a bit.”
It was insanity, but she couldn’t resist the impulse to reply. “He put my tongue to all kinds of uses, but never tamed it. And you’re much weaker than he is.”
She expected his blow to her gut but it still stole her breath. She was trying to suck in oxygen as backhanded her across the face. She tried to keep silent as more blows fell. At least he wasn’t using his torture toys on her. She’d rather die by his fists than that other truly sick shit— cutting, beating with rods and whips, piercing with needles.
He shoved her face into the mattress, and she couldn’t breathe. Fear filled her for a moment, but she almost welcomed death. It would be preferable to die this way than to suffer for months or years at his hands.
She stilled when he shoved the nightgown over her hips, able to turn her head enough to take in a deep breath. She shuddered at the feel of his fingers on her hips.
“Do you remember when we were first together like this? You were what fifteen, sixteen?”
“I was almost fourteen when you raped me, you sick bastard, and I remember every horrible moment.”
Almost worse was recalling the confrontation with her father the following morning, when he’d made it clear that Aldo was more important than her.
She struggled to get away, but Aldo held her tight, pressing himself against her—pressing himself inside her. Mia could feel vomit rising in her throat.
“How I’ve missed this, sweet sister.”
She screamed despite her resolve not to show a response pressed further into her. “You sick bastard. I’m not your sister.”
