1
Frano
Betrayal. It stuck at the back of my throat and burned. Burned so bad
I wanted to ... no, I needed to kill someone, to hurt them as much as I wanted
to hurt Alberto, to take my rage out on them, because no matter
what, I couldn’t do it to my brother, even though everything in my
body screamed to crush him. My brother! My own fucking brother had
betrayed me to the Donatelli. I didn’t see that coming, couldn’t
understand how he could do that to me. I’d done everything for
Alberto, put up with his shit for so long, his raging temper, his
sick desire to hurt women, and had turned a blind eye because my
duty was to him, not to those slaves, yet he’d still betrayed
me.
“ Alberto’s doing this so
he can have Jagger,” Federico said.
Those words pulled my attention back to the
guard, who was standing a few feet away from me. He was talking
nonstop, his hands waving about, his craggy face angry. Normally he
was controlled, a quiet, reserved man, but after barely cheating
death his agitation was more than understandable. He’d told me
about what had happened outside of the cell we were being held in:
how all the Russian guards, minus Sasha, had been shot in the back
of the head by the Donatelli. And he’d also told me that Alberto
was actively working with the Donatelli, Sasha, the blond guard who
was sitting by the wall confirming it all.
Federico’s jaw clenched, his anger making
him look much harsher than he was. “Alberto is doing all of this so
he can have Jagger,” he repeated.
I sat down on the bed and put my hands to
my head, massaging my sore temples. Federico’s words were easy to
believe, because Alberto had hated Jagger ever since our cousin had
come to live with our family at the age of eleven. I figured it was
because Alberto was jealous of how everyone cooed over Jagger’s
beauty, especially since Alberto was an ugly brute like our father,
someone who looked more ape than man.
But maybe it would be more merciful if
Alberto did kill Jagger, because the screams emanating from the
neighboring cell were chilling, and even more so since it was my
cousin making those inhuman sounds. I covered my ears, wishing I
could escape them. They had stopped for a short while, but now
they’d started up again. Jagger was screaming for Alberto to stop
the priest, pleading with him, his voice breaking my soul. The
Donatelli were expert torturers, sick bastards who only saw
attractive people as commodities. S ì , I
sold slaves, but I still thought of them as flesh and blood,
not fori —holes to be filled with cock. And to think I gave them
Rita’s husband. I should’ve killed him instead of listening to
Alberto, who thought it would appease the Donatelli, but nothing
ever satisfied that house of bastards.
“ Didn’t you hear me?” Federico
said loudly.
I uncovered my ears, relieved that
Jagger’s cries for help had stopped. “I already know Alberto wants
to hurt Jagger.”
“ No, you misunderstood me.
Alberto is doing this so he can fuck Jagger.”
“ Fucking him over means
the same thing.”
“ No. He wants to fuck
Jagger— literally . Alberto lusts after him.”
I snorted, the man obviously
having lost his mind. “Leave me be; I’m not in the mood for your
nonsense.”
“ It’s the truth;
I ’d stake my
life on it.” Federico pulled a face, looking uncomfortable.
“Alberto raped Jagger earlier today when he was unconscious from
the drugs.”
I pushed to my feet, now
getting pissed off that the idiot was persisting with his theories.
My brother was a rapist of women, not of men.
Federico took a step back. “I saw it with
my own eyes.”
“ Shut the hell up before I
fuck you up!” I yelled, thrusting a finger at him. Because he saw
nothing, and for him to persist at a time like this was beyond my
tolerance.
He took another step back, although he
didn’t look afraid, instead his face hardened. “I have a recording
of it.”
I put my face right up to his.
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