My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Ep. 6 Consequences (6 page)

My
gaze flicked between the bodyguards.
One was standing behind Thierry, while the other was out front of
the stall. Both of them were around six-foot-three, which was a
couple of inches taller than me. They were battle-scarred,
tough-looking men, the older of the two fucking hot, totally my
type: brutish and heavyset. I grimaced, the man reminding me of
Alberto, not someone I wanted to think about, especially since it
hurt like fuck.

I waited until the group
had left the store
before coming out of the bathroom. I held my soiled shirt up,
showing the shop assistant. “My shirt is ruined,” I said. “Pity you
only sell female clothes, but thank you for allowing me to clean
myself up.”

“
You’re
welcome,” she said, looking at my
abs, which I couldn’t blame her for, considering I had a
six-pack.

“
Well, it was very kind of
you.”
I took
a hold of her hand and gave it a kiss, the girl giggling in
response. I let go of her hand and headed out of the shop, the
girl’s appreciation perking me up. Other people looked my way, the
older ones shooting daggers at me. Fuck, they were prudes, I was
only shirtless.

I
glanced at Thierry’s group, who were
several stalls away, ordering ice creams. Now looking forward to
tonight, I headed in the opposite direction. I would seek the
sisters out at the nightclubs and hook up with one of them, or even
better, if Thierry was with them I could cut out the middle bitches
and go straight for the prize. Oh, I didn’t want to fuck him, I
just wanted to use him as a hostage to get to Frano and
Jagger.

I
slipped back through the trees,
heading for the car. I got into the driver’s side and dumped my
T-shirt on the
Padre’s
feet, annoyed that he was now in the front passenger
seat.

“
Did it go well?” he asked, his
eyes instantly going to my bare torso.

I grimaced, not appreciating his stare. “I
think I’ve found a way to get to Mini-Jagger.”

“
Mini Jagger?”

“
Thierry.”

“
Who’s
Thierry?”

I
frowned. “Haven’t you met Jagger’s
younger brother?”

He shook his head.

“
He was at the D’Angelo house
when we took over.”

“
I didn’t see him,
I was preoccupied
with Jagger.”

“
I’m sure you
were.”

“
I was, so who is this
Thierry?”

“
Jagger’s half-brother, and a
little wimp. He’s eighteen and looks very similar to
him.”

The priest sat up
straighter.
“Really?”

“
Yes, you pervert,
really
. Does that interest you?”

He nodded. “I would like to meet
him.”

“
You will if things go to plan,
though, if you want to show Thierry the light, you will play it my
way.” I turned to the wheel and started the engine, hoping tonight
worked out, because if it did, it just meant I was one step closer
to bringing the D’Angelos down.

3

Frano

I got out of the car and headed
inside
my
house, ignoring Mario’s call. I had planned on bringing Thierry
home today, something I couldn’t do after the shooting. He was
better off staying with the Landi, while I was better off staying
away from everyone. I headed up the main staircase, needing to get
out of this death suit. I opened my bedroom door and closed it
behind me, slipping off my jacket and undoing my tie. I quickly
undressed and headed into the shower, washing off the mud that had
gotten into my hair when Mario had knocked me to the ground. Once
done, I got out of the shower and dried myself, then headed for the
phone. I took it to my bed, willing myself to concentrate, because
the phone call I was going to make would start a war.

I sat down on the mattress and dialed the
Black Russian. I couldn’t stall him any longer. His messages were
irate to say the least, the last one ending with a threat, stating
he would be on the next flight over if I didn’t call him within the
next twenty-four hours. I’d had every intention of calling him a
few nights ago, but with what had happened to Alberto I hadn’t been
in the right frame of mind.

I dialed his number and placed the phone
to my ear. The Black Russian’s receptionist answered. I told her
who I was, asking for her boss. She put me on hold, and then a few
seconds later the Black Russian’s voice came over the
line.

“
I don’t like being ignored,
Frano,” he said, the man not wasting time with pleasantries. “I
tend to kill people who ignore me, because those people are usually
hiding something, something that would get them killed
anyway.”

I bit back a
nast
y reply,
his tone angering me. Although right now I didn’t give a shit if he
did show up guns blazing, because I would put the psychotic freak
in his place. No one was going to do what the Donatelli had done to
me—
ever
again.

“
I have nothing to hide
from you,” I said.

“
Then why didn’t you
answer my calls?”

“
My brother was
murdered.”

The line went silent, only the man’s
breathing telling me he was still there. “I’m sorry for your loss,”
he finally said. “My condolences to you and your family, and if I
may be of any help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“
Thank you, but there’s no need,
since I was the one who killed him.”

The line went silent again,
then the man resumed talking.
“Is this a joke?” he said. “Because I cannot
believe you would do that, Frano. You love your
brother.”

“
I stabbed him because he
raped and brutalized Jagger.”

The Black Russian’s breath
hitched, then he started spewing
out words in his mother tongue, ones I
assumed were curses. After several seconds, he finally stopped.
“How bad is Jagger hurt?”

“
He will survive what Alberto
did to him physically, but whether he will be able to handle the
mental side of things is another matter. I believe he will, but
that’s just my opinion. By the way, you will never get your hands
on him, so don’t ask again.”

“
I won’t bother you about Jagger
anymore, but I would like to know about my own men. Why hasn’t
Sasha called me?”

“
Because
I only just got him back after
the Donatelli kidnapped him.”

“
What?!”

“
They also
killed your other
men.”

The
Black Russian’s voice lowered; his
tone now chilling. “If you tell me that Yuri is dead I will not
forgive you,” he said, talking about Sasha’s younger
brother.

“
The Donatelli shot him in the
back of the head like the other guards.”

The
Black Russian started breathing
heavy, his fury coming across the line loud and clear. “You do know
what this means?” he said.

I’d been informed
prior to getting
the guards that I was responsible for his men’s safety, and if I
failed, I would be killed.

“
I am sorry for your loss,” I
said, “but you cannot place the blame on me. My household was
overrun and I was enslaved, your guards failing in their job.
Regardless, I have made the Donatelli pay for their
deaths.”

“
I don’t care about the
semantics; my men are dead due to
your
failure. You need to be punished for
this.”

“
I already am, by having to live
the rest of my life knowing I’m my brother’s killer.
Killing me isn’t
punishment, it’s a reward. Regardless, if you think you can take me
out, let the games begin; I will be waiting for you, and be assured
I have an arsenal behind me. I am now the Don of the island, I have
the Landi as bodyguards, and I know you’re aware of their skills,
which means if you send anyone after me you
will
be killed.”

“
You dare threaten
me?!”

“
It’s not a threat,
it’
s a
warning. If you keep away from my island, the Landi will not set
foot in Russia.”

“
I have my own mercenaries
that can match the Landi.”

“
Then s
end them and see what happens, and by
the way, Sasha is now one of my own, he is of my household and you
will never see him again.”

“
I will not kill
you,
” he
shouted, “I will crucify you!” The phone went dead.

I
hung up, immediately dialing Pedro
Landi. “The Black Russian’s coming, be prepared. Inform the Santini
as well as the other families. We are now at war. Send a team to
monitor his home, and put another one on his headquarters in
Naples.”

“
Consider it done.”

“
Buono
, and protect yourself.”

“
As always.”

“
I’m fortunate I have you as a
friend.”

“
Likewise.”

“
Grazie.
Now, how is Thierry
doing?”

Pedro laughed.
“You are such a
troublemaker, Frano. Now I understand why you said he would respect
my daughters. He’s not a Romeo, he’s a Juliet.”

I laughed
despite my bad mood.

“
Very funny, Frano,” he said.
“But not as funny as watching my two youngest fighting over him. I
swear they will rip the poor boy’s arms out of his sockets if they
don’t stop pulling on him. Anyway, enough about my silly girls, how
are you doing? I hear someone tried to shoot you at the
funeral.”

“
I’m doing fine.”

“
Are you really?”

“
No, but I only have
myself to blame for that.”

“
Frano, my friend, you did what
you had to. That is the job of a Don. You do things that are for
the greater good, no matter how much pain it causes you. I’ve done
many things that have hurt me, even devastated me, yet I did them
because they were necessary. It will hurt forever, but you will
eventually learn how to cope with the pain. My only advice to you
is to keep your mind busy; immerse yourself in work to get through
the hardest months.
Tenere al sicuro
,
Frano.”

“
Grazie
, and you keep safe too.” I hung up,
knowing he was right.

I swapped my towel for a robe,
then headed for the east wing’s slave cells. I hoped the new slave
trainer the Santini had sent me was as good as they claimed,
because I wanted the cells cleared out, and then the House of
Whores emptied next. I was sick of this business; it was what had
ruined my brother, and what would ruin the rest of the
famiglia
if I didn’t get us
free from it.

I descended the main
staircase
,
crossed the floor, then took to the east wing’s stairs. Two guards
were sitting on chairs, chatting in front of the line of cells.
They stopped talking and stood up, acknowledging me with a curt
bow. They were unintelligent brutes, but sufficient as guards, the
men not minding the long, tedious hours involved in the
job.

“
Which trainers are working?” I
asked.

The
guard with the crooked nose pointed
toward the end cell, “Mario is in there,” he indicated to the cell
behind him, “while Alessandro is in that one.”

I focused
my attention on the cell with
my newest slave trainer. He was the Santini Don’s youngest son. “I
want to see him in action,” I said.

The guard unlocked the
door, allowing me
entrance to the cell. A group of women were chained together on my
right. They were the mistresses of the Donatelli, who had been
taken from the top floor of the House of Whores. As expected, all
the women were very attractive, mostly black-haired Italian
beauties with a few redheads and one blonde.

On the bed, Alessandro was fucking an
unchained woman. His body was impressive, Alessandro’s obsession
with the gym, piercings, and tattoos well-known. He had modeled for
body and tattoo magazines, and had a huge following on social media
sites, the only thing that worried me about him. If anything, he
didn’t need this job, although he wanted it, the man a
self-professed sex-addict. It had been a long standing joke on the
island that he’d had so many STDs that he should’ve received an
award for being alive, let alone still fucking, which was the
reason why I’d insisted on checking his medical records before
hiring him. Luckily, he was clean, a true medical
miracle.

Alessandro removed himself from the woman
and greeted me with a respectful bow, which looked rather comical
considering he was completely naked, with the exception of a condom
on his rather impressive tool of the trade, not to mention the
Prince Albert piercing through the head of his cock. I’d heard he
liked pain, but liked causing it even more.