Ch. 3 TRAPPED

Rosita’s POV

A sudden flood of ice-cold water splashed on my face, which took my breath for a second, and I gasped, my eyes flying open to the sight of Silvia hovering over me, an empty bucket clutched in her hand.

"Rise and shine, Perra," she mocked, stepping aside as a figure approached.

Deangelo—the man who I never wanted to see again—knelt before me, his piercing blue eye fixed on my face. I flinched, unable to meet his eye.

"If it were up to me, I wouldn't let anyone harm someone as beautiful as you," he murmured, a vicious smile playing on his lips. "But since you are the stubborn type, I'm going to have to break that spirit of yours."

He paused, gesturing around the empty, filthy room. "As you have seen, it's impossible to escape me. I own this city, the cops, the authorities—they are all in my pocket. It seems you still have a lot to learn about the world."

Leaning closer, he locked eyes with me, his voice hardening. "So, if you try to disobey me again, there is no telling what I might do. And this time, I won't care that you are a beautiful peasant."

My throat constricted with fear, tears burning at the corners of my eyes. Deangelo rose, nodding to Silvia.

"Get her ready and bring her out. I have a briefing for her first mission."

Mission? My stomach clenched, flipped, and twisted as Silvia approached, a sick smile on her black lips.

"He is quite intimidating, isn't he?" she remarked, squatting down in front of me. "But that's just the tip of the iceberg. He is actually going soft on you because you are so beautiful, even more than me. I will give you that."

Before I could react, she grabbed the collar of my dress, ripping it in two and exposing my undergarments. Panicked, I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off, tearing away my bra and panties as well.

"I'm not your maid," she spat, dragging me to my feet by the arm and shoving me towards a small door. "Go shower and use what I leave for you on the bed, don’t even think of escaping again because it’s useless now that you are in our territory."

I stumbled into the filthy bathroom, holding my nose against the disgusting odor. As I turned on the ice-cold shower, I couldn't suppress a scream at the shock of the cold water. This was all my father's doing—his involvement in some hidden fight had landed me in this nightmare.

***

As Silvia dragged me from the room, I tugged self-consciously at the revealing, sexy black dress she had forced me into, the heavy makeup weighing heavily on my face. I felt utterly exposed, a mere plaything in the hands of these heartless criminals.

She led me down a bright, wide corridor, the walls glittering with an extravagant golden gloss. Dominating, muscle-bound bodyguards in completely black uniforms stood watch at a distance, their expressions stern and their hands never drifting far from the firearms holstered at their hips.

At the end of the hall sat a spacious living room, where Deangelo relaxed on a plush sofa, his right-hand man at his side. Suitcases overflowing with drugs and stacks of cash gathered on the low table before them, and bottles of liquor scattered the floor.

Deangelo was dazzling in a crisp white suit, his leg crossed casually as he puffed away on a cigarette, talking with his associate. As Silvia and I approached, his gaze landed on me, his eye widening in surprise.

"I didn't recognize you for a moment," he chuckled, appraising me from head to toe. "Why have you dressed her up like one of your little minions, Silvia? We are not going to a funeral, she looks like a bloody ghost."

Silvia frowned, glancing away. "This was the best I could do," she muttered. "If you wanted something else, you should have hired someone else."

Deangelo's expression darkened. "Watch your tone, girl. I'm still your boss."

Silvia murmured a quick apology, her eyes downcast.

With a final drag, Deangelo crushed his cigarette under his foot, then approached me, his henchman's gaze fixed shamelessly on the falling neckline of my dress that revealed half of my boobs.

"Holy shit, what a view," the man murmured, earning a sharp slap to the back of his head from Deangelo.

"You will have to pay for the entertainment," the don growled, before turning his attention to me. "Now, listen to me, little peasant, you are going to be accompanying me to an awards ceremony your father is attending in a few minutes time."

"Wh—" I opened my mouth to protest, but Deangelo cut me off.

"Don't bother. Your father is receiving an award for being an impartial and incorruptible prosecutor, and I have an invitation. You are going to be my plus-one."

I shook my head violently. "That's a waste of time. My father won't be there, he will be out looking for me, not attending some stupid award ceremony!"

But Deangelo simply laughed, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "I'm afraid you don't know your father as well as you think." Snapping his fingers, he gestured to his henchman, who produced a tablet and handed it to him.

Deangelo tapped at the screen, then held it out for me to see. My breath caught in my throat as the image came into view—there was my father, dressed in a black tuxedo, getting out of a slick black car and striding towards the venue.

"It's a shame I can't just kill him there," Deangelo mused, "Because the place will be crawling with a lot of security, and I can’t risk going back to jail. So instead, I'm going to take you there as a hostage to get him to come with me."

I flinched in horror. "I won't help you betray my father!"

But before I could run away, Deangelo's vice-like grip closed around my wrist, yanking me back against his chest. I spun, finding myself cradled in his arms, the lingering scent of his cigarette stinging my eyes.

"You have no say in the matter, little peasant," he rumbled, his smile chilling me to the core. "You will behave yourself, or I will personally put a bullet through your beautiful skull the moment you step out of line."

With that, he released me, brushing an imaginary speck of dirt from his hand. "You have dirtied my skin with your filthy peasant touch," he remarked dismissively, then turned and strode towards the door.

I glanced back to see Silvia and the henchman pointing their guns at me, matching destructive grins plastered across their faces. Swallowing my terror, I hurried after Deangelo, trapped in this mess with no way out.