Chapter 4- I should at least f*ck you first

A MAFIA’S RIGHTEOUS PET 

Chapter 4

Grace 

I sat and watched Vermont make love to the Mexican lady. 

It wouldn't faze me, I thought.

I had watched Father do the same to Eloise far too many times to be fazed by this one.

It wasn't something new, but then, it was.

What I was seeing was new and odd.

The way he trailed soft kisses over her body, meticulously sucking and caressing her nipples was looking so pleasurable that for the first time ever, I wanted it for myself.

They were inseparable as they went from the couch to the table and then to the bed. Moans filled the room, moans that mostly came from the Mexican lady. 

That, I've never witnessed. It was ardent.

To make it worse, Vermont made eye contact with me way more than he did with the woman in his bed, causing a strange wetness between my thighs.

I watched with unknowing interest how his wet tongue circled and played skillfully around her clit while she moved her hips in sync with his movements.

After a while, he flipped her over, slapping her ass that was now in the air and pulling her to the edge of the bed, giving him access to slip his cock into her slick pussy. 

I bit my tongue, hating and unwilling to admit that my body was betraying me.

SEX. I've known it to be painful and sore for women.

Only men got the pleasure and an upsurge in ego, right?

But…Why did the Mexican lady appear delighted?

She pulled him closer and even begged for more as he thrust deep into her.

It was nauseating that I tried to believe she was faking it.

I clutched the arm of the sofa until it was finally over. 

The Mafia lay on the king-sized bed, heaving. His nakedness disgusted me– It should, but my stupid eyes were drawn below his waist.

Even in his semi-hard state, he was thick and massive.

Father was a joke to this man! I laughed inwardly.

“We'd be doing this next time, little pet.”

Vermont’s phrase slapped me back to my devastating reality.

Guess I was the joke here.

His words seemed to have formed a huge lump in my throat that I couldn't swallow.

Me? Next time? Over my dead body!

I've kept myself for my future husband and that's what I was going to do.

 ~

       It was dawn and I couldn't sleep a wink. My eyes kept dashing between chains and shackles, counting and recounting while my brain was uncontrollably replaying Vermont's words without break.

It'd be me next time? That'd be losing my virginity to him.

Vermont of all men! Hell no!

But then…

Wh-what if next time would the today!?

I sprung up and rummaged through the drawers in the room. I need to get out! I can't just sit here and watch myself wreck into pieces.

I ought to find something, a key, a pin, a rifle– anything!

I counted one… two… three as I opened each drawer for a vigorous search. My heart was pounding and tears were starting to cloud my vision. 

Thirteen…fourteen, but there was nothing of use.

They all contained a horrifying amount of not just belts and whips but condoms and lubricants that appeared geriatric and breathed out.

What exactly does Vermont live for? I wanted to scream his name and curse it but instead, I inhaled deeply, bracing myself. 

It was the very last drawer in the room. Its handle was broken.

It was my last thread of hope.

I forcefully pulled out the wooden trunk, slapping disappointment in my face.

An envelope. An old yellow-colored envelope sat solitary in the dusty compartment.

It was useless but I opened it nonetheless.

It wasn't a letter but a list. A list of names written in red ink, perhaps, blood.

I, Evelyn Moore was here

Catherine Kyne 

Aisha Rasheed 

Deborah Alfred was locked here 

The list stretched to a lengthy one of forty-four. A list of women who have been locked here just like me.

Forty-four innocent women!

My entire weight collapsed to the floor. They were all here, right in this room.

What did Vermont do to them? Rape? Whipping? To death or the brink of death?

What did they do to deserve such? What have we done to suffer at his zeal!?

My heart burned. It burned with spite and vengeance.

He deserved to die. That's the only way to save myself and even a thousand generations.

At this point, I didn't care about burning in hell.

I would kill Vermont Cardoniss MYSELF!

~

“I'm afraid I can't, Grace.” Aunt Cherry said. “Sir Vermont didn't give any order to let you out.”

“He didn't say you should keep me locked in forever either,” I opposed, “I’m only asking to eat in the kitchen, why're you making a fuss out of it? Do you enjoy watching me suffer?”

The older woman glanced at my untouched breakfast and sighed.

“20 minutes for lunch.”

~

“Phew!” I breathed out after I successfully got back to my space, concealing the knife under my pillow.

It was not much of an aisle grabbing a knife from the kitchen and masking it in the band of my pants.

I was just one step away from completing my mission. 

I had a little internal celebration as I waited for night to take over.

The plan was simple. Dig a knife deep in Vermont's cold-blooded heart when he's asleep. 

It was the only strategy my brain could assume was effective and infallible.

        The time felt excruciatingly slower than usual. I was beginning to panic but that didn't take away my zeal to personally send Vermont to his ancestors.

You're doing the right thing, I told myself. Taking his life is a bold step to end the despair of thousands.

Isn't that a sin? a small voice In my head inquired, trying to poke my conscience but I shook it off.

If it's a sin, may the Lord forgive me. Amen.

       When it was deep into the night, the mansion grew so quiet that even the rustling of leaves couldn't be heard.

I retrieved the knife underneath my pillow and got up to my feet. 

It was the perfect time.

My legs were shivering cold but I proceeded nonetheless.

My plans worked perfectly, the door was unlocked because I asked Aunt Cherry not to visit me again for the day after I noticed she didn't lock the door when I followed her to the kitchen.

My heart rate seemed to increase with every step I took and I blamed his unnecessarily oversized room.

I was as quiet and mindful as any human could be.

Even a professional assassin wouldn't do better.

I eventually got to his bed space where I had to mount a few steps and there he was, a beast that had no conscience and dared to be sleeping peacefully.

He was lying on his back, a perfect position to dig the knife into his chest but my hands were shaky.

Should I just retreat?

Oh! Maybe I should. I'm not so sure right now.

Momentarily, the vision of what he may have done to all those women began to play in my head.

There's a huge chance I'd die in that room too, in the hands of this beast.

My rage was rekindled that instant. Even God will want him dead and wherever the forty-four women were, they'd be glad to see him dead too. 

I closed my eyes and raised my hands to trust the knife right in his…

Yes, there was a stab and then a loud cry. 

MY CRY!

    Vermont's eyes had flipped open and there was a small, creepy smile on his face as he gripped my hand that held the knife, leaving me shocked and petrified.

“You've got quite a big dream, pet,” He said in a husky voice.“But this is how to make a kill.”

He redirected my hand, propelling the knife straight into my abdomen.

My body stowed away all sorts of liquid, SWEAT, URINE, and BLOOD!

The pain was as though I was split open into two parts.

The pain was intolerable and my mouth hung open, releasing painful groans.

Vermont switched our position, causing me more discomfort. I held onto the sheets, stiffened, and walking the paths to the afterlife.

He settled between my parted legs.

“Don't die,” he snickered, “You’re my money, and should at least fuck you first. Right?”

In between whimpers, I managed to shake my head negatively. 

He should call a doctor for heaven's sake! I didn't want to die!

“C–c–call a d–doc–”

“Oh! I have to be your husband before fucking you?”

He grabbed my waist.

“Let's get married.”