My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 4 Poisoned by Marita A. Hansen

 
    1
    Alberto
    Frano was resisting, but I knew he
would, that was just who he was. My brother didn’t know how to
relinquish control, and no matter what the situation was he would
still demand things—even if he had a gun to his head, the bandage
around his head proof of that. I steered him toward the main
staircase as he tried to veer off in the direction of his
office.
    He yanked his arm free from my hand.
“I have work to do.”
    “ I will take care of it,” I said, “and if I
had just woken from a coma, I would be lying back and resting, not
being a thick-headed mule still trying to work.”
    He glared at me. I could see he wanted to
shout in response, but for once he was keeping his voice down, my
brother obviously in pain. I was furious with the Donatelli for
hurting him, which they would pay for, but I was even more furious
with the FBI bitch, what she had done to my brother sickening.
Matteo had shown me the video from the cell where Frano and the
bitch had been held. She’d knocked him out, then tied him to the
bed and raped him with her fingers as well as biting his nipples,
taking joy in hurting my brother. The hypocrite had yelled and
screamed at Frano for raping her, then had done it back to him,
denying it was the same. But the camera had shown her lies, because
the lust on her face was unmistakable. Maybe I couldn’t judge her
after all the things I had done, still did, but unlike her I was
brought up with this life, seen people taken and killed before my
eyes from a young age, told it was their lot in life, but this
bitch hadn’t. She was FBI, someone who was supposed to prevent
unspeakable crimes, not commit them. Although, I was starting to
wonder whether this talk of her being a Salvi was true, because no
normal female would act like her.
    Frano muttered something I didn’t catch,
probably curse words knowing him. He turned and took to the
staircase. I followed him, making sure he wasn’t playing me for a
fool, waiting until I turned my back before taking off to his
office. I’d managed to iron out some business matters while he’d
been in a coma, as well as transferring the leadership into my
hands without him knowing. I also needed to contact the Black
Russian, but not just yet, because I had to arrange a few things
first, so that the Donatelli would take the full brunt of the
Russian’s anger when he discovered what had happened to his
guards.
    Frano headed into his room and started
stripping off the pajamas my wife had bought him for his
thirty-first birthday. I averted my eyes, not comfortable with
seeing my brother naked, like all those years ago when he’d
stripped off to take a skinny dip in the lake. I was twelve at the
time and mortified that I had grown hard at the sight of him diving
into the water. Ashamed of my thoughts, I had pushed my feelings
down the best I could, because there were lines that even I didn’t
dare cross, brotherhood being one of them.
    Frano muttered something, making me look
up. He was lying under the covers, telling me to go away. I smiled
at his brusque tone, finding it amusing, plus I was happy he was
finally listening to me.
    I let myself out of his room and
quickly headed for Jagger’s cells, needing to talk to the slave
called Honey. The blue-eyed guard opened the door for me, the
Donatelli’s eyes and ears everywhere.
    “ Shut the door behind me,”
I said to him, not wanting the guard to hear my conversation with
Honey.
    He did as he was told, the man
looking bored. I headed for the slave, who let out a high-pitched
scream. Honey leapt off the bed and darted into the bathroom,
slamming the door shut, which was pointless considering it didn’t
have a lock. She probably thought I was going to rape her again,
but I didn’t need to prove anything so she was safe in that
respect. My monster of a father was gone, Frano couldn’t do a
thing, while the Donatelli didn’t hold the same prejudices as
my famiglia . Being gay to them wasn’t a weakness;