CHAPTER 6

Amelia's POV

3 Months Later

Being Salvatore’s wife had come with a rigid and outrageous set of rules. But I had tried my best to follow through with the precision of a well-trained solider. I was the obedient wife, following his every command like his soldiers did. I did not put up any fight, and neither did I complain about anything. He wanted s*x; I opened my legs and gave it to him however he wanted it. He wanted an arm candy, I called the stylist and adored myself in designer clothes, plastered my face with make-up, and smiled at everyone until my jaws ached. He wanted to lure a partner during dinner, I sat next to him, acting pretty. I did everything that was expected of me.

But somehow, somewhere, I ended up being on the wrong side, and he never failed to show his disapproval. A slap across my face or a punch was his preferred way to communicate his disapproval. 

I had lost count of the times Calliope had to treat bruises and the times she had to cover black eyes with tonnes of concealer so that nobody else took notice. I hated Salvatore but have grown to hate Calliope more. She was cold-hearted and turned a blind eye to all my suffering. She also encouraged Salvatore’s abuse, reporting back to him each and every move of mine, including the ones that put me on Salvatore’s wrong side. She was a woman, and aren't we supposed to stand up for each other?

I wondered if this was going to be like this for the rest of my life. I prayed for Salvatore’s death every day. That way I would be free from him. That way I would get my life back. 

His line of work was dangerous. He was always a target, but what he liked to say might have been true—he was a hard man to kill.

Through the grapevine, I had learnt that his first wife, Alessandro's mother, had died from a heart attack, and his second wife had taken her own, slitting her wrist open and bleeding to death. I do not blame her for taking the easy way out. I would have done that too if I had no Ben to think of. 

My only fear was that he was going to outlive me just like he had outlived his previous wives, and I was never going to have the opportunity to live as a free woman. 

Speaking of Ben, he had become an important piece in Salvatore’s games. Besides his punches, he kept Ben away from me, only letting me see him as a reward for “good behavior.”  Our initial agreement of seeing Ben once a week had been reduced to when he saw it fit.

It had been three weeks since I saw Ben, and Salvatore had promised me that I could see him if I did a good job with the potential partner he was meeting. 

So I had not hesitated when Calliope walked in my room and told me it was time to get ready. I let her do my makeup and winced through the pain as she covered the bruises from the beating I had received the day before. 

“Done,” Calliope said as she placed the brush she was using down.

I took a glance in the mirror and frowned. Calliope had not given me the signature look she usually gave me. It was usually the natural look. Light on the eyeshadows and blush, nude lips, and a little bit of contouring on the nose.

But she had settled for smoky eyes, bright rosy pink blush and a bold red lipstick. I look nothing like Salvatore’s elegant, trophy wife. I looked like an attention-hungry mistress.

Immediately fear washed over me. Salvatore was clear on his requirements from the start and this was not it. My mind raced to the consequences of not following through his orders.

He had promised that I could see Ben, and I did not want to have that opportunity blown away.

“Calliope,” I said and she turned from packing up her utensils and looked at me.

“Yes?” she answered, her tone void of emotions as usual. 

“This isn't what Salvatore wants.”

“For tonight, that is exactly what he said he wanted.”

"But I look like a...hooker.”

“So?” she drawled, raising her eyebrow at me.

“I...” I tried to speak, but my voice trailed off, lost for words.

“Mr. Conti told me exactly what he needs you for for tonight, and that is exactly what I am preparing you for,” she explained.

I nodded, though I wanted to ask what Salvatore needed me for, but I had learnt not to ask Calliope any questions. She never answered and it always got me into trouble with Salvatore.

“Let's get you dressed,” she said once she was done putting away her accessories.

She helped me in the red dress that was on the bed. It had straps and a deep V-neck that left my boobs exposed and a sl*t that reached mid thigh.

Once again, I looked nothing like Salvatore’s elegant, trophy wife.

“Are you sure this is what Salvatore wants?” I asked.

“You know why I have lasted in Mr. Conti's employ for a long time?” she asked, looking at my face and I shook my head, though I knew why. She was cold hearted and unfeeling, a perfect match for Salvatore.

“I never go against Mr. Conti's orders. I follow through them with precision.”

That was not a lie either. So I nodded and let her perfect what she thought needed perfection.

“We are done here,” she announced as she was done pinning the six inch gold heels she made me wear.

“Thank you,” I muttered, though I was not feeling an ounce of gratitude.

I left the room, going downstairs, where I always waited for Salvatore in these instances.

For an unpleasant change, he was already there, waiting for me, dressed in his usual expensive suits.

His eyes were trained on me, and a slimy smile was plastered on his face. I was stuck between being disgusted with it and being relieved that he was not mad at my looks.

“You look beautiful, Cara,” he complimented, as he took me into his arms.

“Thank you,” I said, hiding my repulsion.

He planted a kiss on my cheek and took my arm, leading me out.

He personally opened the car door for me and I hesitated for a while before stepping in. 

He was acting so unlike him, and I was not sure if this was good or bad. 

driver took us to a private estate. Nothing new there. He had taken me to several parties that were held at private estates. But this seemed different. It did not look like there was a party. It looked like it was a normal day at an estate. 

Maybe this was going to be a private meeting. But private meetings were done at five star hotels or upscale restaurants. 

I let Salvatore lead me in despite my confusion. 

My spine became stiff immediately when I saw Giuseppe welcoming us in. Memories from the night I met him flood in. He had been salacious and sleazy. And I remember there was an obscene conversation between him and Salvatore. I hoped and prayed this encounter would not go like how the previous one went. 

“Salvatore,” Giuseppe's voice boomed throughout the room, making me recoil in Salvatore’s hold.

If Salvatore noticed, he ignored it and let go of me

“Giuseppe, it's always a pleasure to see you,” he said, his voice sounding unusually elated.

“It's always a pleasure to see you, too, Salvatore,” he said, his eyes already trained on me. “But I must say it is even better when you bring your wife with you.” 

“I know, she is such a germ,” Salvatore said, turning to look at me.

“Amelia, come on, greet Giuseppe; you remember him, right?” he coerced and I reluctantly took a step forward and offered my hand to him.

Like the previous encounter, his hands were sweaty, and his kiss at the back of my hand was lewd.

“It's good to see you again, Amelia,” Giuseppe said, and I forced a smile on my face. 

“It's good to see you, too.” I choked on my words but I must have perfected my act by then, since Salvatore grinned at me, nodding his head discreetly, with approval.

“Good to hear that,” Giuseppe mused. “I guess we can get the show started.” 

“Sure,” Salvatore agreed and looked at both men, wondering what they were talking about.

Giuseppe's sweaty hands moved to my lower back, and I felt my skin crawl. 

“The deal doesn't change; I have her and you only get to watch.” 

My spine stiffened further and my whole body froze. A surge of panic seized me and I tried to step away from Giuseppe, but a glance at Salvatore told me it was not a good idea.

I let Giuseppe lead me through the hallway of his mansion, shrinking to death with each step.

My purpose in life was reduced to following Salvatore’s orders, and I had come to terms with that. But never had I imagined that those orders would at some point include...pleasing other men. 

Giuseppe opened the door to a room down his hallway. The room was dark, the walls painted in red, with chains, ropes and whips adorning it. Salvatore was never gentle with me, but he certainly wasn't into this. I did not think I could handle Giuseppe's touch, much more this. 

Salvatore walked into the room and sat in a chair in a corner.

“I hope you are going to give me a good show, Giuseppe,” he said as he sat down. 

“I never disappoint,” Giuseppe responded, standing behind me, his hard d*ck pressing into my back.

My pulse quickened and my body shivered. 

“You are going to be mine for tonight, Angelo,” he whispered, his mouth on my ear, his tongue almost licking it. 

He went on to grope my tilts, and I could not help but feel nauseated. He moved his mouth from my ear to my neck and started nibbling on it. I had to grind my teeth and my breath in to keep myself from throwing up. I had never felt so dirty in my life. He suddenly let go, and I could breathe again.

“Strip,” he ordered, and I stood in front of him, frozen. 

“I said, strip,” he repeated again, but I stood still.

“Do what he wants, Amelia,” Salvatore’s voice boomed throughout the room, making me jump. 

My hand went up to the back of the dress, and I slowly opened the zipper. I thought I was already dead inside, but another part of me died as I moved the zipper down. Hot tears stung my eyes as I moved the strip of my shoulders. Giuseppe grasped as the dress puddled on my feet, and I stood in front of him in my panties only.

“Perfecto,” he husked as he closed the gap between us, taking my *ss into his hand and grinding me on his hardened c*ck. His hands and mouth explored me, and I wanted to vomit.

“Touch me,” he ordered and remained frozen, trying to gather the courage to do as ordered. 

“Touch me,” he growled, forcing my hand to touch his suit-covered c*ck. 

I forced myself to go with the flow like I always did with Salvatore, but it wasn't the same. I was accustomed to Salvatore’s disgusting touch, not Giuseppe's. They felt much more disgusting.

Ben. 

The thought of my brother had me pushing through. I didn't want to disappoint Salvatore and miss the opportunity to spend time with Ben.

I rubbed my hand over his c*ck, and he groaned, slumping over my shoulder, digging his teeth into my skin. I was giving him the pleasure that he wanted, and I hoped and prayed he was weak enough to come in his pants.

He suddenly withdrew and ordered me to kneel down. I slowly went to my knees and kept my gaze on the floor, refusing to look up at him, afraid that I would vomit on him if I saw his sleazy-looking face.

“Such a good submissive,” he growled and my stomach tightened. He had the wrong perspective.

He placed his hand on my chin and made me look up. His other hand held his c*ck and brought it close to my mouth. 

My stomach churned and I gagged, feeling the vomit burning on my throat

“Open up,” he ordered and I slowly opened up and he slid in.

His d*ck didn't have to reach the back of my throat before I was vomiting. I could not hold it back any longer. 

“Sh*t, you f*ck*ng piece of sh*t,” Giuseppe cursed as he stepped away from me.

And just like that, my hard work for the night went to waste.