My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 15 "Finale" (8 page)

Ignoring his request, I grabbed a
fresh towel and started drying his right arm. I smacked his hand as it wandered
around to my ass. I moved to his other arm, then his chest and stomach.

His eyes lowered to his groin. “My
cock’s turn.”

I dried it, the man rock hard. I
then proceeded to his legs.

“My cock isn’t dry enough.”

“Yes, it is.” I finished drying his
legs and pushed up, moving around to his back. Some of the deeper wounds were
bleeding, leaving bloody trails running down his back and ass. I wiped and
dabbed at them, then bandaged it all. Once done, I moved around to his front,
helping him up.

He wrapped his arms around me.
“You’re my woman.”

Smiling, I went to return the hug,
stopping before I touched his back. I placed my hands on his ass instead.

He kissed my head. “Despite you
being a
troia
, I love you.”

I pulled away from him. “Don’t call
me a bitch!”

He smiled. “I’m a
bastardo
,
you’re a
troia
—we’re made for each other.” He sidestepped me and headed out
the door, not caring about his nudity. I followed him down the passage. He
stopped in front of the guard, who was looking at him warily. “You look like a
Spinelli,” Frano said. “Or are you a Donatelli?”

“A Spinelli.”

Frano clapped a hand on the man’s
shoulder. “I like you, then.” He walked past him, entering our room. I quickly
followed him in as he sat down on the bed. He went to lie down.

“Not on your back!”

He stopped and pointed a finger at
me. “You might stick something up my
culo
if I lie on my front.”

I scowled at him. “No, I won’t, so stop
bringing that up.”

“Not my fault you’re a dirty woman,”
he said, lying down on his side.

I laid down also, our eyes only
inches away. He smiled at me, causing me to smile back, his comment quickly
forgotten. We were whipped, beaten, and bruised, about to be handed to a
psychotic human trafficker and torturer, yet we were smiling at each other like
two goofballs. Again, the situation was surreal, our lives nothing but a crazy
dream, where I couldn’t predict what was going to happen next.

His expression softened. He placed
a hand on my cheek. “You’re Sophia.”

“I know.”

“No, you’re Sophia.”

“You’re really high, Frano.”

He frowned. “I was so angry at
you.”

“Over what?”

“You left me alone.”

“I was concerned for my brother’s
life.”

“No, when we were younger. You said
you wanted to marry me, but you left. I didn’t know you’d been hurt. I went to
your home, looking for you, and you weren’t there. No one was. I thought you’d
all moved away like my father had said.”

I frowned. “Why did he tell you that?”

“He heard it from the Donatelli
Don. Of course, he probably didn’t realize the Donatelli were behind
everything.” He continued to stroke my cheek. “I had already told my father I
was going to marry you. That was when he made those threats. We got into a
fight. I stormed off, but came back the next morning, yelling at him that I
would marry you regardless. He told me your
famiglia
had moved. No one
knew about your rumored death for weeks. I thought you’d abandoned me.”

“Oh … but what about Jagger? Didn’t
he say anything?”                                                 

“He was very ill at the time. He was
in and out of consciousness. He didn’t recover for well over a month. After
that, he was confused and didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t.”

My mind went back to what had been
said by the riverside. “That might’ve been the
Padre
’s doing. He mentioned
he wanted to give Jagger drugs, so he’d forget about what was done to us.”

Frano’s lips pulled tight, the look
in his eyes sad. “That makes sense, since the
Padre
was constantly at
his bedside, probably making sure Jagger didn’t talk.” He breathed out.
“Jagger’s had a
merda
life, from one abuser to the next. I just hope
Camila breaks the cycle. Although I can’t stand her, she does protect the
people she cares for. Still, I think she’s bitten off more than she can chew
with Jagger. He’s completely crazy. I never knew what was going to happen next
when he was in the house. I don’t like the ups and downs; I’ve had enough of
that. I want to enjoy life, not dread it, but I guess that’ll never happen.” He
laughed, the sound coming out of nowhere, not fitting his depressing words.
“But let’s live for the moment.” Reaching for the ceiling, he plucked at thin
air, reminding me he was high, the moment of lucidity temporary. He then took a
hold of my left hand and ran his fingers over my ring finger.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Putting a ring on your finger,
like I should’ve done years ago.” He smiled softly. “You’re my wife now.”

Taken aback by the sentiment, I
stared at him for a moment. He was looking at me with absolute love, his face almost
innocent in its sincerity. Wanting to return the gesture, I reached up,
pretending to grab a ring as well. I took a hold his left hand and ran the
pretend ring down his finger. “And now you’re my husband.”

He yelled out, “Does anyone
object?”

Silence followed.

He smiled wider. “Then I pronounce
us husband and wife. I may now kiss my bride.” He took a hold of my face,
giving me a kiss to remember.

The door opened, stealing his lips
away from mine. I looked up as Ercole entered the room with a knife, the guard
closing the door behind him. I shot out of bed, making him take a step back.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Ercole
said. “I want to help.”

“Why do you have a knife, then?”

“To remove the bomb signal in your leg.”

My eyes widened. “I have a
what
?”

“My superiors ordered a chip to be
placed in your leg—”

“I know, but I was told it was a
location tracker, so I could be found.”

“Only by a bomb. You were meant to
meet up with the Black Russian. As soon as you did, I would’ve phoned a number,
which would’ve activated the bomb.”

“What the hell?” I gasped.

“As I told you, my
famiglia
thought
you were to blame for my auntie and uncle’s deaths. We assumed you were hiding
from the Black Russian. However, I struck up a conversation with Christo about
you. He was genuinely surprised when he mentioned finding out you were still
alive. He said he thought his brother had drowned you. I asked why his brother
would drown you.”

“What did he say?”

“That the
Padre
didn’t want
you near Jagger. He also hated that Jagger loved you.”

“This was all done because of
jealousy?”

Ercole nodded. “I mentioned to
Christo what my auntie and uncle did for you, and how they led my
famiglia
to believe you were running from the Black Russian. Christo was furious. He told
me they wouldn’t have been hiding you from the Black Russian, it would’ve been
from him. Which means, if you were running from Christo, the Black Russian’s hit
couldn’t have been for you.”

“So, you believe I’m not the Black
Russian’s lover?”

“
Sì
. I told Christo what you
said, and he phoned the Black Russian, who told him he was everyone’s lover.
The man’s crazy. Anyway, we have to get that chip out of you so you can place
it on the Black Russian. I can give you the phone number to call to set the
bomb on its course.”

“Fine, I’ll do it,” I said, just
wanting it the hell out of me.

“
Bene.
Now, either I can cut
it out or you can.”

“I’ll do it.”

He removed a bandage from his
pocket and handed it over with the knife, his trust proving he was now an ally.
I placed the knife’s point to my upper thigh and cut into my flesh, biting my lip
from the pain. I quickly removed the chip and placed the bandage over the bloody
wound. “So small, yet so deadly,” I said, holding the chip up, the square
fitting on my fingertip.

“Now, the phone number.” Ercole removed
a pen from his shirt pocket and leaned over, writing a number on my palm.
“Memorize it; this number will activate the bomb.”

“What will the Spinelli do after
the Black Russian’s dead?”

“Become one of the five families,
replacing the Donatelli. The degenerates have had their time, now it’s our
turn. Our island has fallen into chaos due to their atrocities, along with the
destruction the Landi have thwarted. It’s time for more level headed families
to take over. That’s why most of the Spinelli in America will be returning
home. We will approach the Santini. They are good rulers; they deserve to be in
power, while the Rossos and the Donatelli need to go.” His eyes moved to Frano.
“My bosses would be happy for the D’Angelos to remain one of the five
famiglie
.
We need to make certain that people like Christo can’t wreck havoc on our
system again.”

Frano stared at him in surprise. “You
would go against your own
famiglia.
”

“The Donatelli are a diseased
branch of my
famiglia
tree. We have to cut them off to survive. Plus, we
are also connected to the Santini. One of the Santini brothers married my oldest
sister. Although Paola died in an accident, her son still has Spinelli blood.”

“The Donatelli won’t take this
lying down.”

“Neither will the Spinelli. We may have
watched the Donatelli perform their craven ways for far too long, but they’ll
regret putting on that show for us. Their blood will spill if they defy us.”

“Take over now,” I cut in. “We’ll
help you take down Christo.”

“No, he needs to make the exchange
or the Black Russian will be spooked.”

“But, once we’re in the Black
Russian’s hands, it’ll be hard to escape.”

“Not if you put the GPS chip on
him.”

“How far away will I have to be so
I don’t get injured in the explosion?”

“For this type of bomb, a hundred
meters radius will be enough.”

“But, what if I can’t get that far
away?”

“Both his Naples and Russian
compounds are enormous. You will be able to find a safe place to bunker down.”

“How long will it take for the bomb
to reach its target?”

“Fifteen minutes, give or take a
minute. We have one in Russia, one in Naples, and one here. The locator will
activate the closest bomb.”

I breathed out. “Then, I suppose
it’s a done—”

Outside the room, voices started up,
cutting my sentence short. One of them belonged to Christo. Ercole placed a
finger to his mouth.

“Have you seen Ercole?” Christo
asked the guard on the other side of the wall.

“About fifteen minutes ago,” the man
lied.

“Where did he go?”

“Downstairs.”

“Well, if you see him, tell him to
come to my room, I need to ask him a few questions.”

“Will do.”

Ercole waited several seconds, then
lowered his finger. “All the Spinelli in the house have been told what’s
happening,” he whispered. “That is, with the exception of Teodora. She’s
compromised due to being Matteo’s half-sister. Although she chose her mother’s
surname, she is actually a Donatelli.”

“What will happen to her and
Christo?”

“Teodora will be set free, she’s
harmless, but Christo will be made to answer for his crimes. There is talk of
using him as a bargaining chip to free one of our plants from the FBI.”

I nodded, not wanting that to
happen because
I
was going to punish him—my way.

A scream ripped through the house, startling
all of us.

“Teodora!” Ercole shouted, rushing
out of the room.

Gunshots started up. I quickly
closed the door, then headed for the window. The guard below was lying on the
ground, looking dead.

My eyes shot to Frano. “Get behind
the door.”

He went for it while I swiped up
the knife. I took up position next to him, listening, waiting, and hoping it
was Julio and his men. The concurrent sound of machine gun fire killed that
hope, because Julio didn’t use that kind of firepower.

Boots pounded in the hallway,
drawing closer to our room. A second later, our door flew open, almost hitting
me and Frano in the face. One of the Donatelli soldiers, the fat man who
sweated too much, rushed in. I shot out, slicing the knife across his throat.
He dropped his gun, his hands going to his throat, a gurgle leaving his lips.
He fell to his knees, dead within seconds. I grabbed his gun, snapping at Frano
to follow me. We inched out of the room. I spotted another Donatelli entering two
rooms down from us, his expression frightened. Shouting followed; Jagger’s
voice amongst the cacophony. Then a gun fired. Frano and I ran down the hallway
and into the room. One of Julio’s agents was on the floor, fighting the Donatelli
soldier for a gun. The agent turned it on the Donatelli soldier and fired,
shooting him in the face.