Breaking Donatella (Leave Me Breathless) Read online

  “How long will she be out?” I finally asked.

  Lifting his shoulders in a shrug, Tomas tilted a hand back and forth. “I’m not sure. The first dosage should have lasted longer, given how thin she is. Of course, she’s mostly solid muscle. I didn’t anticipate that.” A strange expression crossed his face and he tugged the sheet higher.

  I had no time to contemplate his uncharacteristic behavior. “Will it be long enough to get her to the compound?”

  “Probably.” He straightened and smoothed his face into impassivity. “If not, I can give her another shot. In the meantime, button your shirt to hide the marks on your neck, and consider some ice on your face.”

  I grunted in acknowledgement and returned to my seat for landing. I hadn’t expected it either, but I should have, given her occupation. Yet another mistake on my part. What was it about her that made my customarily sharp mind lose focus?

  Ours had been a chance meeting almost twenty years ago and I doubted she remembered it. I’d bumped into a tourist and my gelato had spilled. Little Donatella had given me hers and skipped away to rejoin her mother before I could overcome my surprise enough to thank her. She’d been the first person to give me something without expectations and we never spoke a word to each other.

  Part of it was her angelic face and heartbreakingly beautiful smile. Even as a child, her cheery grins and unthinking generosity had done something to me.

  Until she went away, she’d visit Piombino every few months with her mother. Knowing my father would have punished me for my carelessness, I’d spent more time spying on her than I cared to admit, but I couldn’t have explained the need to see her. She’d been a child, and I’d been barely old enough to catch the ferry by myself. Yet I cherished those few glimpses like a gift from the heavens because they represented a life I’d never known.

  She was protected by a parent who loved her, whereas I knew only the psychotic frenzy of a madman bent on killing anyone who crossed him.

  I hadn’t even known who she was until much later when my father raged about her and her mother, and put a kill order on both of them simply for the crime of existing. There’d been no reason for it either. Ever the opportunistic bastard, my father had no qualms about targeting innocent people to hurt Giuseppe Rossi. At least Giuseppe didn’t harm women and children unless there was a good reason for it.

  I’d do well to remember Donatella was no longer that sweet child. Now, she was a filthy-mouthed termagant with a nasty predisposition to violence. If she chose to share a gelato now, she’d smile sweetly and hand me a bowl of frozen arsenic.

  My plane touched down, then taxied from the runway before coming to a smooth stop near my chauffeured vehicle. The armored SUV had plenty of room for a small cage in the cargo bay. Perfect accommodations for my feral pet. When the doors opened, Josef, one of my personal guards strode into the bedroom to retrieve her.

  His face set with distaste, he threw her unresisting body over his shoulder, nearly knocking her head against the door frame.

  “Gently.” I murmured the soft warning, wondering if he’d listen. Like all of us, he’d lost friends and loved ones in the war with the Rossi family.

  “She’s Rossi filth,” he spat.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. He’d been a thorn in my side for months, demanding extra perks to go along with the negligible responsibility I gave him. He wanted to crush the Rossi family to dust, and couldn’t understand why I refused. He was convinced we had enough strength to do it, but he didn’t consider the losses we’d suffer. Sooner or later, his hubris would cost him.

  “Moretti bastard,” she slurred, her voice muffled against Josef’s jacket.

  Before I could speak, Tomas held up a needle and tapped the barrel, then jabbed it into her hip. In the same motion, he set the muzzle of a pistol under Josef’s chin.

  “This is your new Signora,” he said quietly. “You will show her respect.”

  “When she’s earned it,” I corrected, placing my palm over the firearm to push it down. “Until then, she’ll be treated as well as a prisoner of war deserves, but anyone who harms her will be erased. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” Josef mumbled, looking away from me, knowing full well what I meant. His movements jerky and stiff with anger, he pushed her into the cage, taking no care with her body, then slammed the metal door shut and closed the cargo bay.

  My young guard was going to be a problem. I shared a glance with Tomas and he shook his head. I had perhaps four men I could trust with her, but the rest…

  Grimacing, I got in the back seat with Tomas, knowing I would have to keep her safe as well as educate her on obedience.

  “Has the perimeter fence been activated?” I asked him.

  “Yes, sir. I set it myself before we left for the states.” He was silent for several seconds, obviously chewing something over in his head. “May I make a suggestion?”

  “Of course.” I tapped the button to raise the privacy screen between us and my driver. “Your wisdom is invaluable.”

  A compliment or two never went amiss with subordinates, but in Tomas’s case, I wasn’t lying. Slow to anger, he thought things through before acting, and I trusted him. He’d been more a father figure than the man who sired me.

  “Tag her with a GPS locator.”

  “There’s one hidden in her collar. Besides, I thought you said the perimeter fence was secure,” I said, chiding him gently.

  “It is, but a failsafe is never a bad idea.” He stared out the window for a moment. “We’ve both seen how resourceful she is.”

  “Point taken. I’ll send the code to her chip to your phone.”

  He nodded and a rare smile turned his lips upward before disappearing. “She’s very much like her mother.”

  “Did you know Lelia?” This was new information, but Tomas was several years my senior and had a life of his own before he started working for my father.

  “I’m just repeating what I’ve heard. Why would I have anything to do with a Rossi’s woman?” He gazed out the window once more, lapsing into silence.

  I chose not to press him. He’d share his secrets in his own time, and I doubted they’d affect my plans. Yet it made me wonder. What had a Rossi been doing so close to Moretti territory all those years ago?

  Ella

  Consciousness came slow, and I wasn’t happy to greet it. Fuck, I hurt, and being twisted up like a pretzel in a dog cage wasn’t helping. Between the roller derby bout, fighting with Moretti, and the shock collar, I was surprised I wasn’t bawling like a baby.

  The vehicle bounced along an unpaved road. At least I thought it was unpaved. I couldn’t see anything but trees soaring above me through the bars of my cage. I had no idea how long we’d been driving, but at less than twenty miles across, Elba wasn’t that big.

  Eventually, we stopped. I still couldn’t see anything but trees, and I had no idea where the Moretti compound was in relation to anything else. Likely it was on the coast, but it wouldn’t have a beach. Instead, it would be one of the expensive villas overlooking a sheer drop to raging surf. Where the hell else would a villain put a lair?

  The cargo door opened, making me blink against the bright sunlight. Scowling, I stared up at Moretti, but didn’t speak. I doubted I could without swearing.

  Maybe it was time to do what my mother always said and think before I reacted.

  “Come on,” he said, opening the cage. “I’ll take you inside to your new home.”

  He reached in and pulled me from the SUV, then shocking me spitless, wrapped a sheet around me, tying a knot at my shoulder to hold it in place. Then again, maybe it was a burial shroud and he didn’t want to roll my dead ass into it after he killed me.

  My gut clenched. I had to stop thinking about that. He wouldn’t have hauled me all the way to Italy to kill me, but I had no idea what he really wanted.

  Biting back a cry, I waited until the pins and needles left my trembling legs and let him tug me along with a hard hand on my elb
ow. The sharp gravel cut into my bare feet. Even if I could manage to run with barely a foot of chain connecting my ankles and my arms behind my back, there were too many men standing about. More than a few of them blinked in surprised confusion at my trademark hair, but said nothing in my defense.

  As we neared the massive wooden door leading into a gorgeous white stucco and glass villa, I paused to examine the place. It was huge, and looked very old. In fact, it reminded me of my grandfather’s house in Naples. Maybe my memory was faulty. I hadn’t been there in years.

  “Donatella, come,” he said, snapping his fingers.

  I followed obediently, but the barked order and the gesture made me remember my grandfather treating my grandmother the same way on occasion. That jogged another memory loose.

  What had Moretti said? He’d blasted me with the collar on the plane, then said…

  Holy fuck. Was he serious? The idea of a Rossi marrying a Moretti was ludicrous. This was all a huge joke at my expense, and my grandfather was going to be furious. If Moretti wanted a war, he’d picked just the right way to do it. All I had to do was find some way to tell Nonno.

  Of course, my grandfather didn’t know I was alive. If he had, I didn’t think I’d have been allowed to keep my freedom.

  A guard opened the door for us, then leaned close to me. His breath smelling of olives and garlic, he hissed, “Puttana.”

  “Bastardo,” I replied sweetly, then stepped inside. Using my shoulder, I slammed the door in his face.

  The collar around my neck twitched a split second before current traveled through my body, sending me screaming to the floor. It lasted forever and I couldn’t even draw breath through the pain.

  An eternity later, the current stopped and I fought the urge to cry while I tried to convince my lungs to work again. I didn’t want to move, even though the icy marble floor made me shiver uncontrollably. Thankfully, the sheet still more or less covered me.

  “I’d hoped to start with an easier lesson, but I suppose there’s no time like the present,” Moretti said, crouching next to me. With a white linen handkerchief, he wiped a trickle of bloody drool from my chin, making me realize I’d bitten my tongue. “Ladies do not swear, even when they’re provoked.”

  So many comebacks flooded my mind, but I said none of them as he jerked me to my feet and dragged me past an unsmiling line of servants and more guards. I’d barely made it thirty seconds before I opened my stupid mouth.

  If I had any hope of getting myself out of this mess, I’d have to listen to my mother’s advice. Of course, my mother would have been smart enough not to get caught.

  Don’t eat or drink anything you haven’t prepared yourself.

  Don’t talk to strangers.

  Don’t let anyone take you to a secondary location.

  Don’t enter a room without a plan of escape.

  She’d have been so disappointed with me. Swallowing hard, I choked down a sob. Marriage to a Moretti would be worse than death.

  He led me down a corridor and through a white painted door, then down a set of wooden steps. I was too focused on not tripping over the chain on my ankles to worry about where we were going and nearly stumbled into him when we reached the bottom.

  Fluorescent light fixtures illuminated a windowless room with two doors on the wall opposite the stairs. Empty shelves lined the wall to the right, and pieces of wood with eyebolts and empty ladder hooks hung on the wall to the left. A utility sink and small refrigerator sat directly to the right of the stairs, and there was a hose reel mounted to the wall next to the sink. Metal cupboards on the left side of the stairs were closed to my perusal.

  The concrete floor was cold under my feet and the grated drain in the center brought goosebumps to my skin. Tall ceilings just barely kept it from being claustrophobic. Leaving me standing, he strode to the door on the right and opened it, revealing a clean, but utilitarian bathroom.

  “In,” he said, snapping his fingers again. “Bathe and get cleaned up. You stink.”

  “Are you going to take off these cuffs?” I asked, turning to show him my chained wrists.

  “Ah, yes. That is a problem, isn’t it?” Pulling a key from his pocket, he released the chain.

  I got a scant second to ease the tension from my shoulders before he had them fastened in front of me.

  You get more flies with honey than vinegar.

  “Will you please take these off? I can’t bathe with my hands bound.”

  “That’s much better,” he replied, reaching up to grab something from the ceiling. A short bar with welded rings descended from a chain and before I comprehended what he planned, he had my wrists attached to it. Whistling softly, he sauntered to the switch bank next to the stairs and pressed a button.

  The bar rose into the air, taking my wrists with it until I was barely able to touch the floor with my toes. The stretch was agony on my already sore muscles. “What are you doing?” I asked, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. “Please, I—”

  “This is a teaching moment,” he said softly, untying the sheet and stripping it away. “Ask politely for what you want. Never demand. Call me by name respectfully and with decorum.”

  “I don’t know your name!”

  “I already told you what you’ll call me. I’m sure it will come to you.” He laid the sheet on the top of the refrigerator, then uncoiled the hose and attached it to the faucet.

  Without warning, he turned the hose on me, blasting me with a frigid spray of cold water. I bit back a scream and closed my eyes while he hosed me down. By the time he finished, my teeth were chattering, but I’d lost the ability to shiver.

  “That’s better,” he murmured, walking toward me with a long-handled bath brush and a bottle of soap that smelled like jasmine. “Have you remembered my name?”

  “Moretti,” I gasped out between clenched teeth.

  “That’s not what you’ll call me though.” The bristles were torture on my icy skin as he scrubbed me. “Care to try again?”

  Instead of using the brush on my sensitive bits, he used his hands, easing my thighs apart to wash every nook and cranny between my legs. Despite the cold, his touch was so gentle and it felt…

  Oh, God. He swirled a fingertip around my clit, the soap making his hands slippery. To my shame, my hips bucked, making him chuckle.

  “Good girl,” he crooned, still stroking my pussy, his fingers strumming my clit like a maestro. “Have you remembered yet?”

  “I… No, I don’t know!” I pressed my lips together, resisting the urge to cry. Between his expert touch and the cold, I was fast losing whatever endurance I had left. I could not, would not come for him.

  His dark eyes gleaming with intent, he ground the heel of his hand against my clit and slowly pushed a finger into my asshole. I bucked and spasmed, letting out a short whimper as I tried to evade the intrusion.

  Shifting his weight, he put his foot on the chain, the extra weight dragging me into a painful stretch as he thrust a second finger inside me. My asshole tightened, resisting the agonizing intrusion, then relaxed against the pressure. It still hurt, but felt strangely good at the same time.

  Fuck, how could I be enjoying this? My core clenched and a soft whine escaped my control when he bore down on my clit and pumped his fingers, fucking me brutally. I couldn’t stop the dark trickles of need building in my belly any more than I could stop the jerky movement of my hips.

  A warm hand circled my throat under the collar and squeezed gently, making me lift my chin. His generous mouth curled in amusement and he brushed his lips across mine in a parody of a kiss I might have gotten from a lover.

  “Tell me you want it,” he whispered against my trembling lips. “So wet and needy for me. All you have to do is call my name and ask.”

  Shaking my head, I met his blazing eyes, coughing when his hand tightened around my throat. Yet the threat of strangulation sent my arousal soaring.

  “I… I don’t know.” My voice was a harsh whisper and I bare
ly recognized it as mine.

  “A pity.” He took his hand away and walked to the sink to wash. “Maybe you’ll remember tomorrow.”

  Choking back a scream of disappointment, I sagged against the chain holding me up. My pussy still twitched and spasmed, unfulfilled need making me shudder as the frigid water dried on my skin. Damn him. How had he brought me to the brink of climax so quickly?

  I hated him. I hated his family, my family, and this whole nasty business he was trying to drag me into. I couldn’t possibly like what he was doing. What kind of sick, stupid bitch did that make me?

  “Please, just tell me your name.”

  “As I said, I already did.” He dried his hands and pulled a whip from the cupboard. “I’m confident I’ll give you the right incentive to remember.”

  4

  Cristian

  Donatella’s eyes widened, making me smile. I liked seeing that look of frightened arousal on her face. Truly, I didn’t expect her to remember our first conversation because she’d been drugged out of her head. She might not even remember me telling her she would be my wife.

  It would be an interesting experiment to see how long it would take her to call me Master of her own accord. There was no doubt in my mind it would happen. I was very imaginative with creative ways to make people tell me what I wanted to hear, and I could make them believe it as gospel.

  Walking toward her, I pulled the dragon’s tongue through my fingers, the smooth leather cool against my palm. Although it delivered a brutally agonizing sting, it wouldn’t mar her perfect skin. So much pain, with so little damage. It was one of my favorite implements.

  Spinning to face me, she bared her teeth, a spark of life coming into her eyes. “Sir, lord, Signore? Any of those?”

  “No, I’m afraid those aren’t correct.” I tucked the whip in my belt and retrieved a spring clip from the utility shelves. Not wishing her to move, I knelt and grabbed the chain between her ankles. Before she could kick, I clipped it to the grate over the floor drain.