Chapter 11 Àlvaro's Pov
“Why the fuck did you drink that much when you know you could barely handle one?”
I was angry and pissed off that the one thing I planned to use to set an image for myself out there was fucking drunk as hell.
I glanced back at her and immediately regretted it. She had this look in those goddamn eyes that could fucking bring a man to his knees. The same look she had in her eyes when she was moaning in pleasure.
I stepped hard on the accelerator and we were speeding home.
“Vamos a tener sexo.” (let's have sex)
My attention peeked. I couldn't fucking believe my ears. If I wasn't so seriously horny too, I'd have laughed.
It genuinely shocked me that such a statement could come from someone who hated and despised the very ground I walk on.
I knew I could get sex whenever and with whomever I wanted with my good looks, money and connections but this little girl was much more different than any other woman I've ever encountered.
I wanted her and only her.
I watched curiously as she unbuckled her seatbelt.
“Woh! Safety first!” I yelled.
She glanced up at me, her clouded eyes seemed to be deciding whether to rehook her seatbelt or just not listen to me.
Please don't listen to me…
I kept my eyes on the road but kept darting a few glances at her as she ducked under one of my arms and hooked a leg around me on either side of my waist.
She was straddling me while I was trying to fucking drive.
Yes.
I like it.
I sped up, determined to get home before her alcohol began to wear off.
“Make yourself useful.” I growled in her ear as I slammed on the accelerator again.
Her painted lips smiled as she wrapped her arms around my neck so that I was looking at the road past her shoulders.
I felt her grinding into me, her lips pressed into my neck.
Fuck.
I heard her moan as she pushed herself deeper into my hard on. I didn't think I could make the two minutes we still had before we got to the house.
“You're a horny drunk, aren't you?” I asked smugly.
No response.
Her lips trailed further down my neck as the car approached the front gates to my mansion. I typed in the password and fled past the guard gate as we drove to the garage.
She giggled as I picked her up by her ass, speedily walking through the house, carrying a horny, drunk, virgin beauty.
I took the stairs two at a time, walked through the halls and she was still kissing down my neck.
I don't think I've ever been this hard all my life!
I stopped outside my door and glanced down the hall. Santiago stood outside my office door looking at the both of us.
What the fuck was his problem? And what was he doing outside my office? I didn't dwell too long on that thought, not with this pretty woman in my arms.
I walked in, throwing her on the bed. She looked so goddamn hot with her slim little legs open and ready for me. I took off my shirt and watched in amusement as she made ridiculous attempts at taking off her thin dress.
She sat up on her knees on the bed and gave me those fucking puppy dog eyes. I nearly came undone at that moment.
I hooked my fingers around the bottom of that flimsy fabric and in one second, the dress was gone, leaving her in just her bra and panties.
Holy fucking shit!
How could I have forgotten the wonders beneath that dress?
Everything was perfect.
“Chica.” I said as I wrapped one arm around her tiny waist, while the other began feeling up her plump ass. “Would you like to go down on me?” I asked.
Why the fuck was I even asking?!
But then, the look she gave me made me stop dead in my tracks. She looked confused. It slowly dawned on me that she doesn't exactly know what she's doing or what the fuck I was talking about.
She's too young and too fucking innocent to be ruined when she's drunk like she is now.
What the fuck am I doing?!
I should go spend the night with one of the whores at my club and not this innocent thing in front of me.
One thing I know for sure, this girl in front of me deserves so much more.
Camilla's Pov.
Hangovers fucking suck!
Especially when you can't remember what happened the previous night or why the hell you woke up in an entirely different bedroom wearing just a bra, underwear and an oversized black shirt that obviously doesn't belong to you.
I flung myself out of the dark sheets, frantically looking around as panic flooded through me.
Am I still a virgin?
I don't feel any different. I'm not sore.
I took in a breath. The room looked familiar, yet not at all. It was a dark room with black curtains that I assumed hid the morning light. I was about to scramble to my feet when the door suddenly flew open.
Àlvaro himself stood there in all his satanic glory. He looked freshly shaven, his icy eyes glared at me.
His dark suit jacket covered the sides of his neck but his dress shirt was low cut, revealing more of his mystery tattoos.
“Morning, chica. Did you have a good night?” His lips formed an amused smile, almost as if he was mocking me.
Arrogant fucking bastard.
“You're a horny drunk, yes? I should be getting you drunk all of the time.” He crossed his arms in front of him and leaned into the doorway.
What. Did. I. Do. Last. Night?!
“Don't worry, Chica. Nothing happened. I think I like my girls a little less….desperate.”
“Fuck you.”
I don't know why I said that, but I did. He just makes me so fucking angry.
This douchebag kidnapped me, sexually assaulted me, killed people in front of me and so many other shit I've had to endure. I think he could handle the few harsh words I threw at him.
Well, I guess not because suddenly his gun was drawn and he was pointing it at me.He genuinely looked like he was compelled enough to pull the trigger.
My heart started racing.
“This is the last time you would ever disrespect me. Do I make myself clear?” He spoke calmly but the way his stone cold eyes glared into mine told me just how deadly serious he was.
I nodded slowly.
“Good.” He slid the gun back into his jacket pocket. “There are a few things that need to be done with you today. The first being that you'll need to be marked.”
My eyebrows flew up.
“Marked?”
He sighed impatiently. “You're now a property of the Spanish mafia. You need to be marked as one.”
I took a step back, bumping into the bed, my arms held out in front of me.
“Whoa, slow down. I'm not in your little girl's scout group. You took me by force, against my will. I didn't choose to be here. I don't want to be marked with something that I am not a part of.”
He glared at me. “Shut the fuck up, puta! You don't have a fucking choice.”
Asshole.
I felt the anxiety build up in my throat but I pushed it down. With everything that was happening, I had come to the realization that I truly had no damn choice in the matter. Why worry about the inevitable?
I opened my mouth to reply when a knock sounded on the door.
Àlvaro glanced at me once more before opening the door.
Santiago walked in and being in a room with the two most beautiful men I had ever seen in my whole life gave me a shit ton of anxiety.
“Go, chica. I'll talk to you later. I have matters to attend to.” He nodded to Santiago.
Santiago grabbed my arm and led me out of the room. His nails dug into the skin of my arms and I winced.
He chuckled darkly. “If that hurts you, wait until you see the hell of a time you're in for today.”
What was his problem?!
My steps faltered and I felt fear creeping up my throat. What the hell was going to happen to me? How the hell was I going to be marked?
We weaved our way through the halls, walking through a set of doors that led to that massive hallway I had walked through on my first day here.
I faltered again, pausing my steps and hesitated. But apparently, my hesitation irked Santiago because he suddenly grabbed my arm with such force that I thought he popped my arm out of its socket.
“Fuck!” I yelled.
“Walk like a normal person, bitch!”
Why in God's name was he acting like this?!
“I'm sorry I'm not a fucking terminator like you.”
He pulled harder on me. “Just shut up.” he scoffed as he pulled me into a locked room near the end of the long hall. It was dimly lit, the walls were dark and gloomy and I shuddered in fear when I saw a table and a chair.
I frantically tried to rip out of Santiago's grip but he only tightened his hold around me. He tugged me harshly forward and I winced at the seething pain that shot through my body.
“Ella está lista.” (She's ready)
No, no lo soy. (No, I'm not)
A man appeared from out of the shadows. He looked to be in his mid forties. His hair was a dark swirling brown, his hair a light caramel colour. His eyes took me in as Santiago drew me closer.
“Ya veo por qué Álvaro se interesó en ésta. Es impresionante.” (I see why Álvaro took interest in this one. She's stunning.)
His voice spoke to Santiago but his eyes stayed glued on me.
“Si, Russo. She's Spanish.”
Russo's eyes sparked with interest, glinting at me approvingly.
“Is that so? Where did he find her?”
“Well, it's a long story.”
I understood why Santiago didn't want to explain why I was captured. His vague reply was much better than, “We kidnapped her off the street because she witnessed a murder she shouldn't have been privy to in the first place.”
I felt so useless in this conversation even though the topic was entirely about me.
Russo finally extended a tattoo covered arm towards me.
What's with these men and tattoos?
“Soy Russo, es un placer.” (I'm Russo, it's a pleasure.)
My hand shook as I placed them in his big ones.
“My name's Cami.”
He looked over at me, his head nodding approvingly. “Bueno.” He said as he nodded his head towards the chair.
I hesitated and Santiago practically carried me over to the chair.
Russo walked to the other side of the table and realization slowly dawned on me as he loaded up a tattoo gun.
This marking…it's a tattoo.
“Brace yourself.” Santiago growled at my side as he turned my arm over so that my wrist was facing upward.
I frowned then suddenly I felt the pain of the tattoo gun come in contact with my arm. A vibrating pain shot through me as Russo dragged the needle across my arm.
The needle pinched through my skin and after a while of excruciating pain, he was done.
I stared at the black writing, my skin red and swollen around the ink.
OMERTÁ
I was confused as to what that meant. I glanced over at Santiago and he shrugged, pulling up his sleeve to show me his own tattoo that perfectly mirrored mine.
“It's the code of silence for the mafia. You're one of us now so you're under an oath of silence. You do not tell anyone anything unless you want to be killed.”
Great! Just great! It keeps getting worse.