Dreading The Mafia

Part 15

Part 15

Piercings? Surely he did not mean this. I mean, why would he waste his time piercing my body and causing me pain which I did not want?

Is there any kind of pain that you do want?

Alright, scratch that, I did not want Renzo to cause me any kind of pain, regardless of how I felt about it. But looking in those menacing green eyes told me that he was going to do whatever his demented mind thought of, irrespective of my feelings.

"I don't like piercings." I told him, trying not to let my vulnerable position affect me. If I started freaking out over Renzo unbuttoning my blouse, then I would never be able to survive him, and I needed to survive this dreadful man.

"What if I tell you I don't care about what you like and dislike?" He enquired, stroking the needle with his finger. I grimaced at seeing the wicked needle which would soon puncture my skin.

"I already know you couldn't care less about such things, Renzo," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

His eyes narrowed to slits, as if he wished he had laser vision so he could burn me alive. Though he was a powerful man, I was glad he was not supernatural; if he was, then nature had some serious explaining to do and justice to serve.

"Perhaps I should sew your mouth shut; it would surely give me some much needed peace," he said, his eyes flashing.

"Or you can let me go. Then you can have all the peace you want and can destroy the Borronis more easily," I suggested though I knew that the chances of a Mafia lord taking suggestions from his prisoner were nil.

"Torturing you is much more fun than setting you free, sugarplum." He flashed me a wicked grin before trailing his fingers all over my bare chest. I hated how my body reacted to his touch; goosebumps appeared wherever he touched me. "The way your body reacts to my touch is strange...unexpected."

Goddamn him and his arrogance.

"My body is repulsed by your touch; there is nothing more to it," I snapped, ignoring the spark of heat warming up my core as he continued to touch me. Why couldn't he stop touching me and just get on with the torture? No wait, I did not want him to torture me. Fuck my life, why did I have to suffer through such mind boggling predicaments?

"Why don't I believe you?" He asked.

"Because you are a narcissistic son of a bitch who never had a woman to love so you go around forcing yourself on vulnerable women in order to boost your self-esteem," I answered, not caring about the consequences my words would cause.

However, when he grabbed my neck in a chokehold that's when I started to truly regret my words. Why, oh why did I have to say things that would get me killed for sure? I had to learn to keep my mouth shut.

"Maybe I really should sew your lips shut," he stated and brought the needle close to my lips. Fear shot up my spine as the sharp point of the needle touched the delicate skin of my lips and I screamed without caring if the needle would puncture my lips or not.

"No! Stop! Please, don't...don't hurt me." I shook my head at him, my eyes wide as dread hijacked my heart. I twisted my arms, in the hopes that I could break through the cuffs but my efforts were futile. I never expected Renzo to torture me with a needle.

"Why not? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't slice you up in pieces and feed you to my dogs?" He enquired as he squeezed my neck harder. I knew if he held me a little tighter he would break my neck. And killing me was exactly what he wanted.

"I—I ag—agreed to he—help you," I reminded him. Maybe he didn't need me as much as I thought he did.

"You already said you are not on good terms with Natasha, so why should I bother keeping you around when you can be much more useful to my dogs...as food," he responded.