Bound to the Don

chapter 10

Salma

I had exhausted all avenues, begging, sobbing, and screaming in a desperate bid to appeal to the man's humanity. But he remained resolute, unmoved by my pleas. His decision was final, and he wasn't even listening to me anymore.

In a last-ditch effort, I cried out, my voice cracking with desperation. "Please..." I implored, tugging at his trousers in a futile attempt to get his attention. He finally looked down at me, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, his glare hard and unyielding.

Was he even capable of empathy? Had he not heard my anguished cries? I wondered, my mind reeling in horror.

The man's response was brutal, his words laced with venom. "Get the f**k off me, tu dislitta!" [you wretch!] he snarled, peeling my hands off his legs and kicking me in the gut. I screamed in agony, my body doubling over in pain.

But I refused to give up. Summoning every last ounce of strength, I lunged at his legs again, my voice hoarse from screaming. "Please, sir, I beg of you... don't do this. We'll pay you back, please spare his life... Have mercy."

My voice was unrecognizable, my throat raw from crying. But I didn't care. I would do anything to save my brother.

The man's response was brutal. "Are you deaf!? You also want to die, don't you! I'll f**king kill you if you don't let go this instant!" he bellowed, his eyes blazing with fury.

I was terrified, but I couldn't back down. My brother's life was at stake, and I was his only hope.

"I'll let go, sir, but please have mercy," I begged, kneeling before him. "I swear I'll do anything you want, just forgive him, please." I released my grip on his leg, hoping against hope that he would show compassion.

He gazed down at me, his eyes seeming to weigh his options. For a moment, I dared to hope that he might change his mind. But then, he spoke, his words shattering my illusions.

"Be my whore," he said, his voice devoid of emotion, his eyes glinting with a sinister light. I was taken aback, unable to comprehend what he was asking of me. Was he actually suggesting that I become his prostitute?

I must have spoken my thoughts aloud, because he responded, "You can't do that, right?" His tone was mocking, his arms folded across his chest.

I felt a wave of shame wash over me. "Sir, I c-can't do that, please... just have mercy," I stammered, tears streaming down my face. The very thought of what he was asking was repugnant to me, a betrayal of my family's values and honor.

But he was unmoved. "Then you leave me no choice," he said, his voice dripping with malice. He strode over to Omar, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall. Omar's body crumpled to the ground, and I heard the sickening sound of bone cracking.

Omar's screams pierced the air, and I felt my heart shattering into a million pieces. "No! Please stop!" I sobbed, my shoulders shaking violently.

But the man was relentless, his cruelty knowing no bounds. He tied Omar's hands and legs behind his back, then dragged him across the floor, Omar's face scraping against the rough ground. The sound of his screams and the sight of his battered body was too much for me to bear.

The man produced a whip, its black leather gleaming in the sunlight. He struck Omar again and again, each blow landing with a sickening thud. Omar writhed on the ground, begging for mercy, but the man was unforgiving.

I couldn't take it anymore. Summoning every last ounce of strength, I lunged at the man, grabbing his hand and forcing him to drop the whip. "I'll do whatever you want, sir... I agree... just stop!" I cried, my body shaking with exhaustion and my heart heavy with despair.