002

Nathan's POV

I hated him.

God, I hated him.

“Bring the rest of the guards forward,” he added with a bored tone, waving his hands to the masked guards at the entrance of the door.

I didn't understand what he meant at first; my mind was still fucked up, still trying to catch up with how everything happened so fast that I was now in Alessandro's hand.

How I had fucking lost my guard!

One of the men stepped forward and pulled off his mask.

My breath stopped working at that moment.

Andrew—For a moment, the world didn't twirl around like I expected it to; instead, it left me reeling in the reality of him in front of me.

“You…” I whispered, barely holding it together. “You're here.”

He was wearing the same black clothes as the other guards, which left a frown on my face.

I tried to signal him, check if he was going to wink for the secret sign, and for him to pull a gun out to blast us both out of here.

“Hey?” I whispered in disbelief. “Andrew, please. Tell me this is part of the plan; tell me you're here to take me home.”

However, he didn't blink or look at me. It was like I was a piece of furniture he'd grown bored of.

Alessandro watched the exchange with interest as he murmured. “Touché, he's not here to save you, Nathan,” he said with a mocking tone. “He's here to work; he's excellent at what he does. That's why I hired him to keep you warm in Rome. A man is most vulnerable when he thinks he's in love.”

I felt an ache in my heart..

The man I had shared my bed with, the man I had trusted with my secrets, was just a line item on Alessandro's payroll. Everything we had together, every fucking ‘I love you ‘ he uttered to me, was all a lie to get through with me? It was simply a trap!

“You're a monster,” I choked out, looking at him with probably red eyes. “How could you?”

Andrew finally shifted his gaze to me with dead eyes. “It was just a job, Nathan. Don't make it more than it was.”

What?

Alessandro waved a hand, looking bored at whatever seemed to be happening. “Enough chatter, I have a debt to collect. Andrew, begin.”

I watched, frozen, as he walked to the corner of the cell and picked up a leather whip.

“No…” I pleaded, my voice rising into a scream in panic. “Please! Don't!”

The first strike from him caught me off guard across my ribs, and before I could even draw a breath to scream, the second one landed across my thighs.

Thwack.

“Stop! Please, stop!”

I lost count after the fifth strike.

And all I could do now was scream with tears and sweat blurring my vision quickly, and I hated it.

I hated the tears.

I couldn't breathe properly anymore; the pain was everywhere, burning all over me.

“I hate you!” I screamed. “I hope you rot! Kill me! Just kill me!”

****

Two days! Two days passed with backlash pains of dripping blood, no voices, no water, no food…just darkness and a room filled with coldness.

I tried to ignore my rumbling stomach and weak body at first. I tried to hold onto whatever pride I had left, but I knew it wouldn't fill an empty stomach.

I dragged myself forward as far as the chains would allow me, and I lifted my head, scanning the walls. It took me a moment before I spotted it. ...there was a small, almost invisible camera tucked into the corner.

I figured they were watching me, watching the son of Marco, who lived in expensive places, rot in this place.

“Please,” I said, my voice barely more than a hoarse whisper.

“I know you can hear me,” I added, louder this time. “Just... Water. That's all I'm asking.”

Silence only answered me.

I slammed my fist against the wall, the impact sending a jolt of pain up my arm. I did it again and again until my knuckles ached.

“Damn you!” I shouted, the words tearing out of me. “You want to break me? Is this it? Is this your big plan?”

Then, the lock turned, gaining my attention.

The door opened, and a girl stepped in. She couldn't have been more than twenty, with dark hair tied back neatly and a simple yellow sundress that looked ridiculously out of place in this shithole.She was carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of stew and a large bottle of water.

She smiled sweetly. “I'm sorry it took so long,” she said softly.

I didn't care who she was.I lunged forward as far as the chains allowed, my eyes fixed on the water. She set the tray down on a small stool and held the bottle to my lips.

I drank so fast I nearly choked on it before she began to feed me the stew, blowing on each spoonful while I inhaled it.

Halfway through the bowl, I paused, my paranoia finally kicking in. “Is it…is it poisoned?” I rasped.

The maid let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “No, signore. Alessandro wants you alive, and poison would be much too quick for him, don't you think?”

I didn't have an answer for that. I just finished the food, my mind finally clearing enough to feel the shame of my nakedness and the state of the cell.

“I have orders to clean you now,” she said, picking up a basin of warm water and a soft cloth I hadn't noticed before.

“No,” I said, pulling back. “I can do it; just unchain me.”

“I can't do that," she said, her voice full of pity. “And if I don't clean you, the guards will, and they won't be as gentle. It’s on the Master's orders.”

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the cold stone. “Fine. Do what you have to do.”

She went quiet and started to wipe the dried blood from my back and chest; her touch was surprisingly light. When she reached my waist, I felt my muscles tense.

She worked the cloth down my legs, cleaning the grime away, and then she paused.

Her hand went near my cock. “May I?” she asked, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper.

“I don't exactly have a choice, do I?” I snapped, though the anger was mostly a cover for the intense vulnerability I felt. “My hands are literally tied.”

She didn't take offense, and she began to clean me right there, her fingers brushing against my cock. Despite the pain and the horror of where I was, my body still shamelessly betrayed me.

I felt the familiar sexual heat rising in me like a sensation I couldn't control, and she noticed it, her thumb lingering even longer than necessary.

I kept my face hard like a dick, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a groan.

When she was finished, she stood up and emptied the basin, then she stretched out her arm, offering a hand I couldn't take. “My name is Martha,” she said. “I'll be the one taking care of you from now on.”

I looked at her, my eyes full of a cold and bitter hatred that had absolutely nothing to do with her and everything to do with the man who owned the place.

“I don't care what your name is,” I spat. “Get lost! Get out before I find a way to use these chains on you.”

And she didn't move an inch at my threat; she just picked up her tray and walked toward the door.

“I'll be back tomorrow, Nathan,” she said over her shoulder. “Try to get some sleep. You're going to need your strength.”

The door slammed shut.