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Chapter 4~ My worst nightmare

Author: Betty__Kris
last update Last Updated: 2025-11-30 06:58:41

Chapter 4

••~••°••~••

Luciano

••~••°••~••

Where the fuck am I?

Certainly not my fucking bed!

My head feels so heavy and it takes everything in me not to yank it off. One moment I'm sending a knife through that fucking priest’s throat and the other moment… I'm crawling into the church.

If someone told me I would be anywhere near the altar, I would have called them a fool.

Now look who just crawled into the temple…

I'm still struggling to remember what happened after that, everything just pops up in my head vaguely, leaving more gaps and questions.

Well, for starters, I remember getting shot. Not by the priest by the way. The man was such a weakling that killing him could count as the easiest one I've ever done. So no, he wasn't the one. It was someone else entirely, and before I could draw my attention to whoever it was, they fled like fucking cowards.

Which means I was right earlier. I was being followed. And that's a puzzle I'm willing to solve later.

The real deal is—how did I get here? I'm stitched up alright, but that does not answer the question of what am doing in a room this small, a closet that wouldn't even fit my entire body, a candle, a reading table… Is that the crucifix?

A rosary?

And what else is that?...

Fucking Christ! I just ended up in my worst nightmare.

I run a hand through my hair, frustrated and utterly aware of the pain at my sides. Whoever did the stitching was a complete amateur.

Then, I remember…

There was a woman—strawberry blonde hair, hazel eye colour, and yes… she was wearing… a nun's habit?

I took one good look around my surroundings again, then it dawned on me where I really was.

Shit!

Looking to the side of the bed, something twisted rumbled through my chest when I saw the gun I had with me earlier today. At least she didn't take this from me.

If she brought me here, then where the hell was she? Did she leave the room for me or what?

I'm still checking the room out when I hear footsteps approaching. Survival instincts kicked in and I clutched my gun tightly, ready to pull the trigger at which ever intruder walked in through that door.

Managing to get up, because this is not the first time I've been grazed by a bullet, I walked towards the door, staying by the side, waiting.

The door handle turned, and I lifted my gun, pointing. Whoever was at the other end was surely taking their time to get in, and I've never been a man of patience.

So this is surely getting on my nerves for sure.

For the first time in my life, I waited… waited for the door to open. It did and an unsuspecting woman in a white night dress slipped in, shutting the door behind her.

I didn't wait for her.

She didn't see me, because I stood at the other side of the door, so technically I'm standing behind her. I notice her eyes widen when she looked at the bed. A knowing grin creeped up my face and I knew she was looking for me.

Enough of the cat and mouse game.

She took a step forward, and I pulled her towards me, maneuvering our position in such a way that I had her pinned against the wall, and my bare chest pressing against her.

When she noticed who I was, realized that I was now awake, she tried to scream but I was fast… faster than she could ever be.

I raised my hand to her mouth, suppressing whatever noise that would have filled my ears if I didn't.

“Do not make a sound,” I warned her, raising the gun to the side of her head, pressing the barrel against her head. She gasped, eyes widening in fear—shock too perhaps, a tear rolling down her cheek but I caught it quickly, wiping it off.

She was terrified. Good.

You would be impressed by what people do when they let fear take over them.

“I’ll take my hands off your lips, but first you have to promise me one thing,” I started by saying, studying her face for any form of foul play. She was clean.

Just an ordinary nun.

She nodded too quickly, another tear rolling down her cheek.

Fuck! Why won't she stop crying?

I hate being close to women when they’re shedding tears. It's not something that has ever gone down well with me.

Now I'm here, up close with one that looks like she might collapse in my hands.

“You won't make a sound, okay? You’ll be quiet… be obedient and do whatever I ask you to do. And if you don't… I'll kill you.” I use my hand to dramatize the killing part, to make the threat more effective. “Then I’ll kill the rest of the women here. And you’ll go to hell with their blood on your hands. Is that what you want, angel?”

She shook her head as quickly as before.

“Good girl.”

Then I slowly take my hand off her mouth, leaving my gun pressed to her head, waiting for the slightest noise so I can fulfill my threat to her. But just as I had expected, she didn't make a noise.

Her eyes were fixed on mine, but the terror in them was unmistakable.

With our eyes fixated on each other, I take my time to study her closely. My earlier descriptions of her were correct.

Strawberry blonde hair.

Hazel eyes.

Pink lush lips that were made to do something else other than recite holy prayers.

I quickly push that thought aside.

She's a fucking nun… a terrified one for that matter.

We're so close to each other that her breasts are all up in my business. Even with the plain ugly nightdress, I know too well that she's got big round tits. Don't ask me how I know. I just do. Because they're pressing into my chest.

And with every little inhale and exhale she does, her chest rises and her tits jiggle a bit.

Reluctantly, I drag my eyes back to her face. She's beautiful… not the the type you say to women just to compliment them. No.

I really mean this one.

She's fucking pretty… too pretty to be tied up inside here. I'm guessing that's why they hid her in a convent, because she's definitely not safe out there.

So they hid her…

Especially from men like me.

I didn't expect nuns to be this pretty. I usually imagined them to have ugly wrinkled faces that no man would dare to look at them, making it easier for them to stick to their vows in peace.

But this one?

This one was everything my imagination didn't think about.

She let out a little whimper, halting my dirty thoughts about her.

“A-are you going to kill me?” she asked in a little angelic voice that leads the blood in my veins all the way to my cock.

I'm tempted… I’m fucking tempted to grind against her, but I force myself to pay attention.

“Did you stitch me up?” I asked, which was definitely not what I wanted to do.

But this is life, and in life we don't really get what we want always.

She nodded before answering, “Yes… I'm sorry.”

Sorry?

Sorry for what exactly?

I nearly slap a hand against my face to contain my frustration and confusion.

“You brought me up here?”

“Yes.”

“Then no, angel. I'm not going to kill you.”

She heaved a sigh of relief, but her eyes and body told me she was still terrified. Reluctantly, I pulled myself off from her. I might not be a saint or into church affairs, but I know what happens when a man is found alone with a nun.

Honestly, I don't care who sees us. I'll just shoot their heads off the moment it happens.

The only reason I move away from her is because I'm badly injured and if the one who shot at me makes his way here, I wouldn't be able to defend us both.

“Turn around. Eyes on the wall,” I ordered, and she obeyed immediately, not asking questions.

She was really scared for sure.

And when she turned, I nearly groaned out loud.

Her ass… Shit! Fuck! They're to die for.

Big, Round, and Curvy.

They're definitely not supposed to be in that ugly dress.

My eyes trail from her ass upwards, while I took steps away from her.

My body protesting with each step that I took. And when I got to the window, I stopped, taking one more good look at her.

Then it struck me immediately—this is defintely not the last time I'll see her, because she just triggered my interest.

So she can cling to her vows all she wants, I'll break them one by one.

With that thought in mind, I jumped through the window.

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