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Chapter 4: Lena

Author: Nikita Slater
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

I'm sitting in the back seat of the sleek black town car next to Manuel. He asked me to accompany him to a meeting with one of his contacts. It's somewhat unusual for a mafia 'girlfriend' to attend a business meeting, but most of Manuel's colleagues have gotten used to seeing me at these meetings.

Manuel Ramirez is top of the food chain; he commands unlimited respect and is allowed to bring whomever he wants to a business meeting. He's one of the most dangerous men in the world. Wealthy beyond belief, his money is acquired through drugs and human trafficking. But he's also an arms dealer and a smart investor. He takes me everywhere and his men have gotten used to talking in front of me. None know of our arrangement. It's a good one. I keep him safe and he pays me well.

I fuck up, and well... I've never fucked up so I don't know exactly what he'd do. Manuel is a cold man, though sometimes I think he's softened toward me. I'm under no illusion though that he won't ship me back to where he found me if I fuck up.

So, I don't fuck up.

Except tonight. Because we're both distracted by Luis. He's being his usual self, a bully, mean and unforgiving. He's arguing with his father about my presence at the upcoming meeting. He thinks a female bodyguard is emasculating.

"I can act as your bodyguard, you don't need this…" His eyes drift down my body, taking in my tight black bodysuit, functional but sexy, and low heels. "… whore."

Manuel just laughs. "Leave it alone, boy. Where I go, she goes. End of discussion. Besides she dolls up my arm, how can you argue with such a piece accompanying me?"

I flinch at being hated by one and objectified by the other.

"She doesn't belong in a room with such men. They'll think you've lost your touch, that you've fallen in love with a woman young enough to be your granddaughter."

Manuel continues to take a light-hearted approach. "Good, then perhaps they'll underestimate me, and I'll be able to steal their business right out from underneath them."

"You aren't listening. She weakens you in the eyes of our competitors. You look like a weak-minded fool when you take a woman like her into these meetings."

I try to diffuse the tension. "I'll stay quiet and not interfere."

Luis grabs me by the throat, slamming me back against my seat, squeezing me with painful force. I'm armed and well-trained. A hand to my neck is a small thing and I know how to break the hold, but I don't dare. Luis may not be my employer, but he is Manuel's son. If I challenge him, fight him, I'll lose one way or another.

"Were you given permission to speak?" Luis snarls in my face.

With the argument occupying our attention, none of us are prepared for the car that slams into us. Into the driver's side, crumpling the metal of the front and back door, essentially eliminating that side as a means of escape. Luis is thrown on top of me when the car hits and we're both momentarily dazed.

Before we can react, the side door is yanked open and we're hauled out. Luis, Manuel and I. Black sacks are thrown over our heads, our hands tied behind our backs and then we're shoved into another vehicle. I hear a shot. I think our driver is dead.

We are in transit for about 20 minutes. Manuel tries to speak, to give Luis rapid instructions, but his words are cut off when someone shouts at us to shut up. A dull thunk follows and Manuel groans. Every muscle in my body tenses as I try to fight the instinct to protect my principal. Now is not the time, I'm at too much of a disadvantage. If I fight in the car, with my hands behind my back, I could get all three of us killed.

I try to track every turn the car makes. I kick my shoes off and leave them in the car when it stops. We're pulled from the vehicle one at a time and the sacks are removed. We're in a warehouse. Both Manuel and Luis are thrust to their knees on a dirty cement floor, their hands still tied behind their backs. This is going to be an execution if I don't stop it.

I assess the situation. There are five men. I'm completely outnumbered. The best I can hope for is that they decide to rape me. Separate me. Separate themselves.

"Oh god, no, please don't do this!" I start screaming, crying for Manuel, trying to struggle out of the grip of the man holding me, trying to get to Manuel, drawing attention to myself. It works.

The man holding me backhands me across the face. I let him, falling to the floor, sobbing. One of the men, tall, angry, the leader says to the man who hit me to take me to the back. Leave him and the other to deal with Manuel and Luis. Have a good time with the Ramirez whore.

Three men haul me away. It's almost too easy. They drag me to a room with a mattress, then cut my binding, freeing my hands, and I nearly cry out at the unexpected bonus. They toss me on the dirty mattress and stare down at me like a pack of hungry wolves. I move my hand to the inside of my jacket at my waist. They don't wait, don't argue over who gets to go first, the man that had held me before throws himself on top of me and my knife, which I now have in my hand. As he falls, I bring the knife to his gut, stabbing and slashing upward. He screams as his blood gushes through my fingers, soaking my chest and stomach. The other two men grab him instead of neutralizing me. Fools. I pull my gun from the holster at my back, shoot one in the head, the other in the heart.

I don't pause. I roll to my feet and start running out of the room back to Manuel just as a shot rings out and I see my boss fall. The gun swings toward Luis' head, the finger about to squeeze the trigger.

I shoot him in the head, dead before his body hits the ground. Luis drops to the concrete next to the body, hunching low as I clear the room. A bullet whizzes past my face right before I take out the last man.

I rush to Manuel's side, dropping to my knees, a hand on his shoulder. But he's dead. No one survives a bullet in the middle of the forehead. I look toward Luis who is staring at me with hard, cold dark eyes. Then a fist slams into the side of my head and darkness engulfs me.

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    I watch as they shoot my father, as she rounds the corner. The bodyguard, her gun drawn, and her bullets, deadly, accurate, too late. Then she races to my father's side and falls to her knees. He's dead. She looks up at me, fear in her eyes. Not sadness, not grief. Shock maybe. Doesn't matter. I don't know her relationship with the old man, and now, I don't care. He ruled her, dictated every move she made. A deadly, trained and beautiful viper. She lived under his shadow, she needed him. But now he's dead and she belongs to me. I won't give her a chance to flee.Our other men have arrived, minutes too late. Lena doesn't notice. I nod to my cousin, Arturo, then to Lena. He slams his fist into her head, and she crumples. A vision. Someone I'm hungry for, someone I can't get out of my mind. But not right now. Later.Arturo frees me as more men arrive. I have no time to grieve for my father. Arturo picks up Lena and carries her to the waiting car. Throws her in the back seat. "Restraints

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    When I wake up, I'm alone in a room. I'm naked, blood of my victims still on me. I want to vomit my head hurts so much. I have no weapons even though that doesn't make me helpless. But it leaves me vulnerable.I drop a hand between my legs, check for soreness, inflammation, violation. Nothing. I'm not sure if I'm relieved by this. I assume I've been kept alive for a reason and that, eventually, they'll fuck me before killing me. It might have been better if they'd gotten it over with while I was unconscious.There is a bathroom off the room I am in. Small and dirty, but it has a shower. I use the toilet, then turn on the shower, letting the trickle of cold water wash the blood off me. There's no towel, no soap, but I am better without the blood. A small mirror shows the bruises on my face. When I was slapped by one of the kidnappers, then the punch to my temple, bruising the side of my cheek. I'm thirsty and try to scoop water from the tap into my hand and up to my mouth. A little ge

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