TWO – GRAY EYED STRANGER

MIRA

God, my head hurts!

My ear feels like a banshee wailed in it for hours and my eyelids might as well be gummed together with super glue.

I struggle to open my eyes, wincing against the bright shafts of light that penetrate my vision. Where the hell am I?

"Mira? Mira, c'mon, wake up!"

I jerk awake at the urgent whisper, my vision clearing to take in my surroundings.

"Oh, Mira! Thank God you're okay."

I turn slightly and find Vanessa…chained to a wall? My heart thuds against my chest and I make to free her, but I cannot move more than a few inches myself.

"What is going on, Vanessa?" I whisper.

"I don't know." Her eyes are red rimmed and wild from crying and she looks weary. "The goons that came to the diner earlier left us here thirty minutes ago. No one has come back for us since."

I struggle against my bonds, looking for a way to break out of them.

"What the hell?"

"There's no point, Mira. I already tried all that. Those chains are welded deep into the wall. No amount of struggles will break them. It will only make your shoulders hurt."

Both our hands are handcuffed and chained to the wall high above our heads. We can only be free if these chains, or our handcuffs are open. Hence, we have to wait for our captors.

"Vanessa, do you know where we are?"

She sniffs.

"I'm not sure. But this place must be owned by Scuderi since his men brought us here."

The mention of his name sends a shot of blazing fury through my veins and I momentarily forget my fear and discomfort.

"Escobar Scuderi." I mutter through gritted teeth. "That snivelling monster."

"Correct!"

A deep voice sounds at the other end of the room, and my heart almost stops.

"W…who is that?" Vanessa asks, her voice trembling.

The owner of the voice walks further into the room, the heavy thuds of his shoes against the floors sounding like the toll of a death bell.

"I assume that you know all about me, my dears. I do not believe I need any further introductions."

He walks away from the shadows and sinks into the single chair in the middle of the room.

How come I hadn't noticed that chair earlier?

Vanessa and I stare at him silently, our minds whirring with a million and one thoughts.

I struggle to get a rein on my anger as I take in his gleaming leather loafers, pristine shirt and custom made suit. He even gallivants around with a golden walking stick. And somehow, I know that damned stick is made of pure gold.

Rage threatens to choke me as I think about the thousands of people like Momma and Papa, or Vanessa's boss, whom this greedy bastard has cheated.

"Escobar Scuderi."

He splays his arms wide.

"In the flesh, my darling."

I must admit, he isn't what I was expecting. I expected an old, fat man with a potruding beer belly.

This Scuderi is a good looking middle aged man. Surprisingly fit too.

I struggle against my bonds, baring my teeth at him. He just laughs.

"Feisty, this one." Then his voice hardens, "But the feisty ones are always the easiest to break."

"Come a little closer and say that again. Let's see just how easy I am to break, Scuderi."

I hear Vanessa gasp but I pay no heed. Momma's tears and Papa's pain have haunted me every single night for the past ten years, while this evil creature walks free, with zero worries.

Escobar regards me silently for a few minutes. Then he gets up from his chair and advances towards me.

Just a bit closer.

He finally comes to a halt before me. He tilts my chin upwards with his walking stick, the mockery in his eyes wrecking havoc on my senses.

"We're face to face now, principessa. Do what you want to do."

My eyes narrow at him.

"Don't you dare call me a princess, you monster." I say through gritted teeth. "Only my Papa ever has the right to call me that."

Then I spit on him. Twice.

To his credit, he doesn't flinch. He doesn't even move back a step.

"That is for the years of pain that you've caused my Momma and Papa, you evil man! For the pain you've caused every other innocent business man or woman in this city. Trust me, you deserve even worse than that."

He retrieves a spotless, white handkerchief and wipes away the globs of spit. It doesn't matter. So long as I have successfully disrespected him by throwing my spit on his face. That's enough for me…for now.

I still want to claw his eyes out, then make sure he slashes the outrageous rent on his stores, but that will have to wait. I have to get free first.

"Are you done?" He asks quietly.

"No. I have just begun. By the time I'm finished, your ass will rot in jail."

His light blue eyes take on an almost manic, ice cold expression. For a moment there, it felt like the grim reaper came to say hello. The expression disappears so fast, I begin to think I had imagined it.

Scuderi has a small, eerie smile on his face now. He turns slowly to Vanessa and I lurch towards them.

"Don't you dare touch her!"

He ignores me and walks closer to Vanessa who looks like she might disappear into the wall any moment from now.

"You see, my dear, you friend here just committed an outrageous taboo."

"P…please s…sir. Please, forgive her. She doesn't know…"

"Shhh." He grabs her jaw and she mewls quietly. "Don't say anything. The only thing I want you to know is that you will be punished on her behalf."

My heart sinks to the bottom of my shoes.

"What do you mean by that? If you dare touch her…" I warn.

He turns to me, all traces of his smile gone now. In it's place is an ice cold, inscrutable expression.

"Be patient, pretty one."

Then he turns in the direction from whence he came earlier.

"Why don't you take our pretty friend here to the underground brothel. Make sure you give her to our most unhinged customers. And do not get a dime from him."

Shocked to my core, I watch three men emerge from the shadows and go straight for Vanessa.

Her screams and struggles seem to me like they are happening in some third dimension, while I stand afar, unable to stop it. Then I turn frantic eyes to Scuderi.

"What are you doing? Stop this! You can't just take people to a brothel, Scuderi! That's a crime. You could be seriously punished for this."

I watch as the men unlock Vanessa's chains and one of them throws her over his shoulder like she weighs absolutely nothing. She bucks, screams and struggles till her voice becomes hoarse.

"Please, stop this! Take me instead. Take me in her place."

Scuderi pays me no heed. He simply watches, both hands wrapped around his walking stick as they take a screaming Vanessa away. I collapse against my chains. Drained and defeated.

I cannot help but feel that this is all my fault. I dragged Vanessa into this. Now, only God knows what those monsters will do to her in there.

"You see, sweetheart." Scuderi begins. "You came to challenge a monster unprepared. And I'm afraid, this monster hates being challenged. I squash my opposition beneath the heel of my boots before they even manage to sport their first wing. I was kind enough to let you fly for a few precious seconds. So sad that your friend has to pay for that fiery attitude of yours. But I must say, it goes greatly with your hair."

I get to my knees and face him once again.

"What are you going to do to me?"

His eyes rove slowly over me. It lingers a moment too long on the open gap in my shirt and my exposed breasts before sliding lower.

I feel my skin crawl.

"Oh, you will find out soon enough."

We engage in an intense stare down for a few moments and I try to convey every single thing I feel about him in one gaze. Anger, hatred, loathe and animosity.

"Message for you, boss." Comes a voice from the door.

Scuderi doesn't take his eyes off me.

"What is is?" He asks grimly.

"Your nephew is here."

His eyes leave mine instantly and a fond smile lights his features.

"Great, great. Let him in."

"Yes, boss."

I collapse back against the wall, trying to ease the discomfort in my arms. God, I hurt all over. I miss Momma and Papa so much, and Anna too. Tears choke me, threaten to spill over but I rein it in. Everyone must be so worried.

I will not cry. Not before these monsters anyways.

"I was thinking of what to do with you." Scuderi begins, his perwinkle blue eyes gleaming,

"Now, I know."

I flinch at the darkness in his tone.

"What are you going to do to me?" I ask again.

He flashes a smile.

"Patience, pretty one. Patience."

My attention is drawn by the sound of the door opening again.

***

Someone walks in, a man. The only parts of him visible in the shadows is the broad expanse of his shoulders and his height.

He is tall…really tall. Say, over six feet.

He advances slowly into the room like he owns the place, the confidence in his gait indisputable.

I do not know why, but each step he takes towards me…towards us, makes the air in the room grow tighter and tighter, until my breath is coming out in spurts, and my stomach tightens with dreaded anticipation.

Who is he?

He finally steps out of the shadows and into the the circle of the overhead light and I feel my heart stop.

My eyes widen as I take him in. I'm pretty sure my jaw is scrapping the floors as we speak.

This man is…beautiful. Yes, that's the most suitable adjective. He is beautiful.

Thick, wavy, dark hair falls over his forehead in unruly locks. His stormy gray eyes are fringed with a forest of long, dark lashes. The kind of lashes that women fix extensions to achieve.

My eyes rove over him, taking note of how his broad shoulders fit so perfectly into his silver-gray suit.

He has the body of a man who was born to wear a suit – all smooth muscles and long limbs everywhere.

His legs go on for miles, and his feet are encased in black, Italian shoes, probably made of the most expensive leather. He exudes the kind of lethal energy that could make him the focus of a room full of men.

He flicks a glance in my direction and my breath catches in my throat. Those intense gray eyes burn into me, probe me, lay me bare, until I feel my skin heat despite the cold of the room. I try to look away from his arresting gaze, but those eyes pin me in place, rendering me incapable of any form of movement.

For a moment, the world falls away, and all that exists is this insanely handsome stranger and the havoc his eyes play on my senses.

Eyes that look like they've seen a million problems, and equally harbour a million secrets.

"Like what you see, nephew?" Scuderi interrupts and the moment disappears.

The stranger turns away, effectively dismissing me.

"I have no interest in your playthings, Uncle."

Irritation shoots through me. Playthings?

"I am no one's plaything." I blurt.

The both turn in my direction. The new comer accesses me with a bored expression, his head cocked to the side.

"Feisty, isn't she?" Scuderi says.

He looks me up and down again and to my chagrin, I feel my cheeks heat. Then he turns away again, giving me his back.

"I assume you haven't had the time to tame this one yet."

What?

"No. She's a new arrival."

"Great. Now to the business of the day."

And just like that, I am dismissed. I struggle with my chains for the next thirty minutes while I half listen to them talk about the fluctuating stock market and falling prices.

I nearly collapse from exhaustion when I hear Scuderi say,

"Where are you going from here, nephew?"

"I've been working for the past six months straight, Uncle. I need a break. I'll just chill until I'm ready to leave."

"Good. Good. You need a whore for the night?"

I visibly cringe at his obscene choice of words.

The stranger pauses, like he's considering it.

Somehow, the thought of this man getting naked and hot with any female – even if she's a paid whore – sends a pang of jealousy through me.

Get a grip, Mira.

I look up to find those burning eyes on me again. I stare back, helplessly lost in his gray depths.

This is the kind of man that people describe as God's gift to women.

"I see you like our newest arrival, nephew."

Scuderi's words fall around us like molasses on glass.

What the hell does he mean by that?

The stranger's eyes turn ice cold and an unexpected sliver of fear runs up my spine.

He looks young. Maybe twenty six? But there's no doubt that this is a very dangerous man.

"Is she available?" He finally asks.

I narrow my eyes at him.

"Excuse me? I will have you know, mister, that I am not a slave. I am not up for sale either. And most importantly, I am not a whore!"

His eyes harden with an emotion I do not quite understand. He turns to his uncle.

"Scratch that, uncle. I do not care if she is available or not. I want her naked and tied to my bed in the next two minutes."

With that, he walks out, leaving my senses whirling at the harsh reality of his words.