My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 1 (3 page)

The bartender came over
a minute later,
handing me another margarita.

“
What’s this
for?”

“
An apology from Mr. D’Angelo,”
he said, then left to serve someone else.

I picked up the glass,
wondering whether it had been drugged, then took a sip. It didn’t
taste any different from the other one, although I knew that meant
nothing, that it very well could contain something that could knock
me to my ‘unladylike’
ass. I drank it down fast, then stood up and
headed past the bartender, giving him a glance. The man looked like
he was watching me out of the corner of his eye, maybe assessing
whether the drinks were affecting me. Again, I wondered whether he
was involved in the kidnapping.

I walked out of the bar, purposely swaying
a little as I headed for the elevator. Jagger was standing in the
reception area talking to a gorilla of a man, who had his back to
me. Jagger’s gaze shifted to me, then he turned to the
receptionist. I pressed the elevator button, continuing to watch
him, hoping he would come up to me. Or maybe he was getting my room
number. After all, I did give him the false name I’d booked
under.

He
said something to the man next to
him, then before I knew it he was gone, heading up the sweeping
staircase. The elevator door pinged open, my nerves telling me that
he hadn’t asked for my room number, because I had a sick feeling in
my stomach that I had failed, and it wasn’t the margaritas. I
should’ve ignored my boss’s instructions to play hard to get,
should’ve said yes to Jagger, making things easier. No, I couldn’t
have done that, because the footage had shown that all the women
who’d gone with him willingly hadn’t been snatched, which we knew
because we’d traced every one of them, only the two who’d turned
him down vanishing. I wondered how many more women had been taken,
and how many hotels Jagger had used as personal hunting
grounds.

I stepped inside the
elevator
.

“
Hold the door please!” a man
called out.

I placed a
finger on the hold button as
the gorilla who’d been standing next to Jagger lumbered inside. I
pressed my floor number as the door closed, my heartbeat and hopes
now picking up, because the man was Alberto D’Angelo: Jagger’s
cousin and Frano’s brother. Alberto’s file was even bigger than
Jagger’s. The man was notorious, a true
mafioso
who’d clashed with the law on many
occasions, the first time during his teens when he’d killed a man
with one punch. But he’d avoided jail due to a technicality—the
judge being in the mafia’s pocket.

Alberto stood still, not pressing any
floor numbers, again making me think he was here for me, plus it
made sense: follow me to my room, wait until I opened it, then
bundle me inside, wrap me up, and post me off to the human yard
sale.

I stared straight
ahead
, both
nervous and excited, wanting this to happen, but also wanting to
rearrange his already busted-up nose for even considering taking
me. The elevator stopped on my floor, the door opening with a
ping.

The man swept a hand
out,
“You
first,
signora
.” His Italian accent was gravelly, the voice of heavy
smoker.

I forced
myself to smile. “Thank you,” I
said, then headed for my room, again purposely swaying as I walked.
His footsteps followed, heavier, threatening, the thud, thud, thud
echoing my heartbeat. Willing myself not to fight back, I stopped
outside my room and pulled out the keycard from my evening purse,
dropping it with a ‘drunken’ giggle. I bent down and picked it up,
then unlocked my door, going still as he headed past to the room
next to mine. He opened the door with his keycard, then disappeared
inside. I stared in confusion, because I knew where the D’Angelos
were staying, and that wasn’t their room, the penthouse booked
under their name. My eyes widened, things finally clicking into
place. I was in a conjoining room where a door connected the
suites. Still, how did they arrange the room so quick? Had someone
warned them about me, told them I was a FBI agent? I looked down at
my purse, wondering whether I should use the ninja star hidden
inside, something I’d taken without permission. My boss had wanted
me to appear helpless. But I never went into a job without a backup
plan, and if I had been found out I would use the ninja star as a
distraction, so I could get the hell out of there.

I opened the door cautiously, not wanting
to be taken by surprise. When I didn’t see anyone, I closed the
door and slipped the keycard into its slot, which lit up the
spacious room... I froze at the sight of Jagger standing in the
adjoining doorway that was meant to be locked. He was leaning
against the jamb, smirking, like he’d played the world’s funniest
joke on me. I had expected Alberto, but it still wasn’t a surprise,
although the man must’ve run up those ten flights of stairs like a
wild person to get to my room before me.

“
What are you doing in my
room?!” I shouted, wondering whether I should pretend to run or
demand he leave, one a natural reaction, the other not so much, but
the second would give him a better chance of grabbing
me.

“
I’m here to take you,” he
said.

“
Take me?”

“
Kidnap
, snatch, abduct,
capture...”

I remained still, although my
brain was now telling me I had to run
regardless of whether I needed to
stay.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Normally women
scream and run when I say that; not stand still, making my job
easy.”

“
I’m not a normal woman, so get
out of my room before I c
all the cops.” I opened my purse and pulled out my
cell phone.

“
That won’t do you any good,
because we’ll be out of here before the
polizia
show ... off to get you primed for
the auction block.”

“
You’re nuts.”

He smiled. “No, I have nuts, and right now
I’m thinking you have some too. You’re the first woman to show some
balls. I wouldn’t mind keeping you for myself.” He pushed away from
the door and headed around the bed.

Even though I needed to be
taken, I couldn’
t let him know this. I turned for the door, Jagger not even
trying to stop me. As I opened it I discovered why: Alberto was
standing on the other side, blocking the exit.

Grabbing me in a bear hug, he
lifted me off the ground and
entered the room, heeling the door closed. I
struggled against him, but keeping it at a level where it wouldn’t
help me, although I could make him let go in an instant with a
stiletto heel to his shin.

“
Let me go!” I
yelled.

The man clamped a beefy hand over my
mouth, but the yell was just a ruse, although my eyes still popped
as Jagger pulled out a syringe from behind his back.

“
S
tay still so I don’t hurt you
unnecessarily,” he said, reaching for my arm.

I pleaded with my eyes for him not to do
this, because I wanted to stay awake during the ordeal, to take in
as much information as I could, but the sting still happened, the
needle pushing into my arm.

“
Remove your hand,” Jagger said
to
Alberto.

The meaty hand disappeared from my mouth
to be replaced by Jagger’s lips. He kissed me, then pulled back,
his eyes going to mine, his intensity making me panic along with
the drug now coursing through my veins. He could do anything to me
while I was out. It made me want to fight back, regardless of my
job. I tried to lift my leg to stiletto him, but couldn’t move it,
my body beginning to shut down. I closed my eyes, sleep now pushing
at the borders of my drug-addled mind.

Jagger brushed my hair aside. “I hope you
fight me every step of the way, because I like inflicting pain, and
contrary to what you said about not being a masochist, once I’m
through with you, you will beg me to hurt you, to whip you, to fuck
you.” He nuzzled my ear. “I now own your body, your mind, your
soul,” he whispered. “You are mine to do as I please. I’m your
master, your god, your nightmare...”

No, I’
m yours,
I thought,
I’m yours.

2

I woke,
instantly wishing I hadn’t.
Nausea, pain, and dizziness hit me all at once as I was jostled
about on a hard metal floor, the vibration of the engine running
through me. My eyes were covered and my wrists and ankles were tied
with rope, while a gag was wrapped around my mouth, the nausea now
concerning me the most, because I could easily choke on my
vomit.

I breathed in through my nose, trying to
quell it, which I needed to do quickly, because it wasn’t only my
nausea concerning me. I had to get myself under control, to think
logically, to listen to the sounds, to find any clue to where I was
being taken. But the nausea, the pain in my body, and my
disorientation battled with me, fighting me every painful second. A
voice started up, Italian words being said. I breathed in through
my nose again, trying to center my thoughts as I did in karate.
After several seconds I got myself under some semblance of control,
enough to listen to what the man was saying, his staccato bursts of
words suggesting he was talking on the phone. It sounded like
Alberto, the man angry that an order of women had been
delayed.

The
re was a cry of a seagull, then
another one split the air with a loud shriek. I wondered whether we
were going to a house near a beach—or a dock, the last location a
concern, especially if I was being shipped overseas, because the
tracking chip in my leg had a limited range.

But first
, I had to get the blindfold
off. I placed the side of my face against the floor and started
rubbing against it, moving the blindfold slightly, but not enough
to see. I rolled to my other side and did the same, moving it a
fraction more. I repeated this until it was halfway down my eyes.
Some boxes were on the other side of the van alongside a steel
cage. I rolled over to the cage, using its edge to push the
blindfold over the bridge of my nose and down to my neck. The van
went over a bump, the sudden jolt sending me crashing into the
boxes. I grunted, willing myself to blank out the pain, but it
rallied against me, the nausea also starting up again. I breathed
in and out, trying my best to focus. Once under control, I rolled
back to the cage, using it and my tongue to push the gag out of my
mouth.

The van came to a sudden halt, sending me
crashing into the wall, Alberto obviously not caring what condition
I arrived in. I screwed up my face, wanting to scream out, but
instead panted out the pain, my apprehension growing as a door
slammed shut. I rolled down the van quickly, trying to get to the
back door before it opened. I needed to know where I was before
Alberto realized I was no longer blindfolded.

The creak of the
door opening made
me look up. Alberto stood over me, the hulk of a man looking very
unhappy. He swore in Italian, then grabbed me. I screamed at him,
trying to wriggle out of his grasp, though it was useless, my tied
hands and legs leaving me completely vulnerable. He slammed me onto
the van’s floor, making me cry out, my head and shoulders taking
most of the impact. My eyes blurred for a moment, then the man’s
face was right in front of mine.

“
If you scream again,
I will fuck you
regardless of my orders.”

His
threat made me close my mouth. I knew
I would be forced to have sex, that was a given, an understanding
that went with the job, but it didn’t make me feel any less
scared.

Alberto hoisted me over his shoulder,
my eyes going everywhere. I was right, we had gone to a house by
the sea, but the view stunned me, because there was no way I was
still in New York, nor its surrounding states: the palm trees, the
bright flowers, the stunning blue sky and water, and the heat...
This wasn’t even America.

“
Where am I?”

“
Shut your mouth,
puttana
,” he growled, “or I’ll put it to work.”

I knew what
puttana
meant.
Whore.
My new job description.

He
carried me up the steps of a large
white Mediterranean-styled house, making me think of Italy. But
they couldn’t have gotten me there... How long had I been
unconscious?

I winced as my head clipped the side of
the door as I was carried through. Alberto turned left and
descended a flight of stairs, making me grunt as my body bumped
against his shoulder. I craned my head to see where we were going.
A large swarthy-looking man held open a door, which lead onto a
dark room, a queen size bed the only piece of furniture.

Alberto dumped me on the bed, then grabbed
my hair and yanked my head back. “If you don’t want to be punished
for taking your blindfold off, leave it on.” He pulled the material
back up and over my eyes, then jammed a hand between my thighs. I
screamed, trying to move away from him. He yanked my panties down,
then pushed up my dress, leaving me exposed below.