Page 35 of They Found Us
“Stay down,” I command.
I slap her right ass cheek. Her scream turns to a moan when I massage the area. I treat the other side to the same—pain followed by pleasure. I grip her hips as I push my groin into her crack. I’m still fully clothed, and I’m straining to be released.
Reaching round, I find her entrance with my finger. Just as I expect, she’s swollen, wet, and waiting for me.
“Hhmm.” Katie pushes her clit into my fingers.
I pull away as she does. “Oh no, Kat-er-een. You have been a bad girl. You will have to wait for that.”
A rattling on the door annoyingly brings me out of my domination.
“Go away,” I boom.
“Boss. We have him. The car is ready.” Van tries the door again. “The door is stuck.”
“No, it is locked,” I reply in frustration while squeezing the bottom of my wife.
“Why is it locked?”
“Because I am trying to fuck my wife. Now leave.”
There’s a giggle from Katie.
“It looks like you are getting away with it lightly tonight, Kat-er-een.”
“I’ll take whatever you’ve got, Mr Guerra.”
After quickly opening my belt, I drop my pants and release my throbbing cock. I find her entrance with the tip and circle it lightly before I thrust into the heaven that is my wife.
After giving my wife a good seeing to and telling her I love her, I kiss my boys good night and get into the waiting car. As we drive through the Italian streets, I think about the life of crime to which we have returned and the laws that I am about to break, but in Italy, I am the law.
We pull up to one of our desolate warehouses. I walk to the building and am immediately let inside by my guards. I haven’t met any of them before, but each gives a small nod of the head in respect. Respect which the Guerra has earned. Respect I have earned. Tonight, I need to remind people who I was and who I still am. The fact that I have a wife and children does not mean I have weakened. I still have the strength to lead the Guerra.
The room I am led into is dark and damp. The stench, a metallic mix of blood and disinfectant, is almost enough to make you throw up. One of the guards turns on a single light bulb that hangs from the high rafters above. A man, bloodied and beaten as I requested, remains slumped in the chair he is tied to.
“I heard you are the one who discovered I was alive.”
The man doesn’t dare look up as I speak.
“You took an innocent woman’s life even after she told you what you needed to know. Why was that?”
Her blood is partly on my hands. If I had not had such an outburst on the jet, she would never have disobeyed the restriction against entering my cabin. Her intentions were honourable in wanting to check I was okay. In return, she got shouted at by me and a death sentence.
“Did she submit to your interrogation immediately, or did you torture her first?”
This question wakens something inside him. He slowly raises his head, grinning evilly. “I had to get a bit rough with her first. But I think she enjoyed it.”
Fury builds inside me. The whole crew was battered and questioned by the Martelé, but she was the only one who had been killed. She was the only one who had seen me and knew anything. Up until that point, the Martelé had no idea that I was alive. What they wanted to know was where Marco was, seeing as he was supposed to be dead but had somehow managed to kill their leader.
I approach the man while taking out my knife rather than my gun. A slower, more painful death is needed for this type of vermin. “I absolutely despise men who abuse and hurt innocent women. You are nothing but a sewer rat who does not deserve to breathe the same air as me.”
“Guerra scum.” He spits.
And that’s as much as I can take. With one hand, I grab his head and push it back, widening his neck. With the knife in my other hand, I automatically pierce the skin at one side of his throat and swipe quickly across in a single straight line. Blood spurts out, covering my suit. The disgusting middle-aged man gasps as blood fills his lungs. His eyes bulge in panic. I watch ashe chokes and surrenders to death. It’s a real nasty way to go. But he deserved it. I must show the new Guerra recruits why we are to be respected. I must show the Martelé that they cannot beat the Guerra.
Once the gurgling sounds have quietened and the rotten soul has left the man’s body, I instruct Van to deliver it to the Martelé.
“Make it as messy as you can. Hang him from a tree or something like it.”
