Dirty Revenge (Dirty 3)

“Yes, just about to have the garbage taken out,” Roman answers.

I snarl. I can’t help it. At this point, I want the men holding onto me to drag me out, so I don’t have to look at Roman for another second.

Clive stands with a raised eyebrow, no doubt waiting for me to beg him to rescue me. He’ll be waiting forever. I will never ask for his help. Matteo may have been willing to ask for his help to save Eden and kill my father, but I’m not willing to ask this slime for help. The cost would be too high. Matteo had to give up everything he worked for to get Eden. If I asked for Clive’s help, I would merely be trading my life from Dante to Clive. I still wouldn’t be free.

Roman turns from me and walks into the kitchen before returning with a stack of money. He holds it out to Clive who isn’t surprised to see the money. He takes it from him eagerly.

“Thank you, Clive, for assisting me. I wasn’t sure if the pull of old love would be enough to persuade Gia to come back. But I knew she couldn’t resist coming back to her old home.” Roman turns his head to me, and the evil oozes out of his dark eyes. “But then again, I think Gia is desperate enough that she would have come back just for a chance at my attention.”

The men chuckle as if he made the funniest joke.

I hold my tongue, keeping my snark remarks to myself. Whatever I say won’t help. But I will remember every word. And every bone I break on his body, every cut I inflict into his flesh, every bulle

t I shoot into his body will be my revenge. I will not let him live. I’m a Carini. It may take me a week, a month, or even years to escape my fate, but when I do, revenge will be sweet.

I pull on the ropes again as Roman turns away. Maybe if I can get free for a second, I can inflict some pain right now. I can’t wait.

I get one arm free of the man’s grasp, but the other man holding onto me jerks me back.

“Gia’s feisty. She won’t go easily, but it won’t take long to break her. Tame her. She’s already broken.”

“You fucking asshole!” I yell, no longer caring what Roman thinks. I can’t contain myself any longer.

Roman turns around and walks back to Clive and Erick. None of them pay me any attention as I continue to curse and yell out my threats. I will come for them all. They think my family was evil before. That Enrico was the worst, and my brothers were demons that would fight to the death. They have no idea I’m worse than all of them.

Roman, Clive, and Erick ignore me as they turn the corner and disappear into the shadows of the house. My house. They may occupy it now after Matteo gave it to them in exchange for their help, but I’m getting it back when I take all their lives. I’m not as forgiving as Matteo and Arlo. Clive and Erick may have little to do with me being taken, but they could have done more to prevent it. They didn’t. They are just as culpable.

“Time to go, whore,” the man on my left says. He has dark eyes and a scruffy beard. His biceps bulge, covered in a sleeve of tattoos. He’s meant to look menacing, but he doesn’t realize I’ve dealt with men like him my entire life. Grew up around them. His looks don’t scare me. He’s nothing but muscle working for his boss, Dante. He follows orders, nothing more. He won’t touch me or hurt me as long as I behave.

He thinks a word like ‘whore’ will degrade me. Make me feel like I’m nothing. Start the process of breaking me. He doesn’t realize I’ve been called much worse. I don’t easily break, despite what Roman says.

Roman was an important lesson. One I learned far too late, but will never repeat. I will never fall in love with a man. I will never be that vulnerable again.

The other man holding my arm doesn’t say anything as they start leading me to the back door of my house. This man isn’t the leader. He’s smaller and therefore seen as weaker. I need to wait until I’m left alone with the weaker one, then I’ll make my run for it.

They don’t have to pull me hard as we walk. I go willingly. Or at least that’s what I make them think. Really, I’m planning in my head for when I return and slaughter all of them.

We walk out into the hot sun. Will this be the last time I see the sun? For how long? Days? Weeks? Years?

Will I be locked away in a dark dungeon? Or will I be given the freedom to walk around the house like my family always gave their slaves?

I have no way of knowing. So I lift my face up and soak in every drop of warmth. Letting the sun warm my heart and provide a memory of something positive I can take with me.

The door to the back of an SUV opens, and I’m quickly tossed into the back, just before the door is thrown shut behind me. I take a deep breath and wiggle myself up into a sitting position, recovering from falling on my face on the chilled leather seat.

Both men climb into the front without a word to each other. The car is started, and we drive off. I don’t dare turn around or look in any of the side mirrors to get a last glance of my home. I refuse to let it be my last glance.

My heart beats rapidly in my chest, but other than my heart, I can’t feel anything. Not fear or pain. Nothing.

But they made their first mistake. They tied my hands together, but not my legs. They sit in the front and not the back. They don’t think I will run. They believe I’m already broken as Roman said. That I’ve relented to being someone’s slut already.

I try to keep my lips thin, my expression blank, as if I’m in shock. It doesn’t matter though, because the men in front pay me no attention. They think there is no way for me to escape. They’re wrong.

2

Caspian

I lift the cup of coffee to my lips, scanning for any signs of Dante Russo or his men. I spot one man at the bar, out of the corner of my eye. Another member of his security team strolls down the quaint, brick sidewalk that has been here for hundreds of years.