The Sacrificial Lamb

Cover

Title Page

The Sacrifical Lamb

...

Elle Fiore

...

Omnific Publishing

Los Angeles

Copyright Information

The Sacrifical Lamb, Copyright © 2013 by Elle Fiore

All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

...

Omnific Publishing

Los Angeles, California 90067

www.omnificpublishing.com

...

First Omnific eBook edition, December 2013

First Omnific trade paperback edition, December 2013

...

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

...

Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

...

Fiore, Elle.

The Sacrifical Lamb / Elle Fiore – 1st ed

ISBN: 978-1-623420-63-5

1. 1. Romance—Fiction. 2. Suspense—Romance. 3. Mafia—Fiction. 4. Kidnapping—Fiction. I. Title

...

Cover Design by Micha Stone and Amy Brokaw
Interior Book Design by Coreen Montagna

This book is dedicated to my boys, Kieran and Arel. You make me want to be all I can be, and I hope that Mommy can inspire you to chase your dreams and search out happiness.

“W
HO
I
S
S
HE
?” Domenic asked, striving for a businesslike tone despite the dread beginning to coil in his gut. He slid the panel shut, blocking out the sight of the girl in the cell, and turned to Carlo.

“Her name is Alexis Montgomery.”

“Why is she here?”

“She’s my insurance policy,” Carlo said dismissively.

When Carlo Commisso had called Domenic to the abandoned warehouse, Domenic had known it was for family business, but he’d had no idea he’d find something like this. He’d pulled in behind the abandoned warehouse and parked his car. After a brief glance around, he checked his phone to make sure it was the correct location, and the address corresponded.

What the fuck is Carlo up to?

The building was in obvious disuse. Broken glass from shattered windows littered the cracked and dull gray pavement below. Yellowed weeds fought their way out of the crags as they tried in vain to reach any semblance of sunlight. Toward the back of the parking area—which was nothing more than rubble—there were several abandoned cars that looked as if they had been used as someone’s residence. The door of one stood ajar—a crusted blanket hung out like a lolling tongue. The whole place had an air of abandonment so thick it was suffocating.

Domenic had made sure he was locked and loaded. The forty-five in his shoulder holster was checked, the clip was secure, and everything was in working order. He did the same for the smaller thirty-eight in the ankle strap under his dress slacks. Reaching into the backseat, he grabbed his suit jacket and shrugged it on once he exited the car, keeping it unbuttoned. Carlo liked his men to look sharp at all times.

Domenic wondered again what he was doing here as he headed toward the rusted metal door. Opening it, he removed his sunglasses, tucked them into the inner pocket of his jacket, and waited for his eyes to adjust before taking a tentative step forward. Gravel carried in from the parking lot crunched under his heels against the concrete of the floor, and the smell of weeping concrete assaulted his nose. The entrance led to a long corridor, and there were voices up ahead. Domenic walked quietly to the end of the hallway where it opened up into a large room.

He stood there for a moment in the shadows and surveyed the scene. The room was concrete from top to bottom with pieces of abandoned machinery strewn about. The floor was covered with dust—clearly undisturbed until recently. There were footprints and scuffmarks visible throughout. It looked like a troupe of animals had gone back and forth, kicking up the dust as they went.

Carlo had his back to the door and was conversing with the two henchmen. Domenic’s boss was a man in his late fifties, short in stature but trim and lean. His hair had gone completely white, and he styled it with the vanity of a much younger man. His face was lined but still hard, with shrewd suspicious eyes, an aquiline nose, and a protruding jaw.

Deciding it seemed safe, Domenic entered the room, and all talk ceased as the two goons stiffened at his presence. Carlo spun on his heel quickly.

“Domenic, my boy!” Carlo called out, clapping his hands together. “Finally you arrive. I was wondering if you would make it.”

“I would never turn down a personal invitation from you, Carlo,” Domenic said, inclining his head in a show of respect. His eyes flicked toward Marco and Vince who were lounging around in metal chairs beside a table. The table was next to a sturdy-looking steel door that had a sliding panel set about five feet from the floor. A thick bolt served as the lock.

Carlo had beckoned him toward the door. He slid the panel aside silently so Domenic could look into the room. It was dingy and dark, with just one bare light bulb to cast any sort of light. There was a plain wooden chair in the middle of the room, a cot was pushed up against the wall, and a bucket stood in the corner farthest away. On the cot with her back to the wall sat a long-haired girl. Her legs were drawn up, arms holding them tight, and her forehead rested on her knees. She hadn’t noticed that anyone was looking into the room.

Now things clicked into place. Montgomery. As in John Montgomery, the small town Montana sheriff who was being subpoenaed to testify against the family and who could make sure Carlo and his two brothers went away for a long time.

“You kidnapped a cop’s daughter?” Domenic hissed, grasping the man’s arm above the elbow. Carlo looked down at the hand and raised a white brow. Domenic immediately let go, remembering it was his boss he’d grabbed.

“We’ll hold her until after Sheriff Montgomery testifies and has a lapse of memory.”

“And
then
what?” Domenic asked, trying not to sound horrified. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen his fair share of unsavory acts, but this was an innocent girl, not a mob-hardened criminal.

Carlo merely shrugged his shoulders, and Domenic narrowly kept from throttling him. He ran his hand through his hair and turned his back to his boss. Trying to keep from killing Carlo took all his willpower. Domenic placed his hands on his hips and took a few deep breaths to gather some composure.

“So, why did you call me here?” he asked, turning around.

“I wanted to offer her to you,” Carlo said, eyes sparkling in merriment. Domenic tried to keep his face from showing that he thought the old man had finally lost his ever-loving mind.

“Offer her to me,” he stated. “As what?”

“As a gift! To show my appreciation for all you’ve done for the family.”
That’s it
, Domenic thought,
he
has
lost his mind
.

“Thank you, Carlo. I am honored, but I feel I must decline.” Domenic smiled thinly and turned on his heel to leave. He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Such a shame. She’s a pretty girl. I guess I could always just let Marco and Vince have a go at her instead.” That stopped Domenic dead. He could hear the men making lewd comments behind him. He gritted his teeth together and cursed Carlo and his twisted ideals.

“
You
do not
touch
her,” Domenic told the two clowns menacingly. He abhorred the sadistic ritual Carlo had introduced to the soldiers a long while back.

“Now, Domenic,” Carlo scolded, “if you do not want the girl…” He shrugged again, and Domenic contemplated putting a bullet in his head right then and there. Capo be damned. He knew this was a test of his fealty to the family and resented it completely. As an underboss, Domenic didn’t usually take part in these sick little games, but it was obvious he couldn’t get out of it this time.

Domenic shrugged out of his jacket and holster, handing them to Carlo but retaining the weapon in his ankle strap as a precaution. He strode toward the metal door, slid back the bolt, and pulled it open. The girl jumped and screamed slightly. Her eyes were puffy from crying, and she turned a whiter shade of pale at his approach. She scrambled into the corner as he stood watching her.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” she whispered, as large tears fell from her eyes.

He clenched his jaw, set on his task. Domenic was to rape this girl, with Carlo to witness. He turned toward the door and noticed the panel was partially open. That would make this somewhat easier at least.

“I’ll do anything you want,” she begged. “Just please, don’t hurt me.”

“Anything?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. She nodded quickly, not quite understanding what was about to happen. “Well, that should make this easy. Lie down on the bed,” he said in a cold voice.

Comprehension flared in her blue eyes. She shook her head and skittered back further into the corner. Domenic went to the bed and grasped her shoulders, dragging her forward.

“
No!”
she screeched and flailed her arms at him ineffectually.

“You said anything,” he grunted, still pulling her toward him. “Now,
lie down!”

Domenic backhanded her, angling the blow so that it would stun her into submission and not hurt her very badly. She fell back to the bed, and he climbed onto it, shoving her knees apart so that he was in between them.

Luckily she was wearing a skirt, and he placed his hands under it, ripping the flimsy underwear she was wearing. Carlo liked dramatics—he would enjoy that part of the show. The girl started to struggle and kick against him as he pulled his shirt out of his pants before undoing them.

“Stop! Please, stop! Oh God,
please!”
she sobbed as he laid his body on top of hers. She rained blows against his shoulders and scratched at his face, aiming for his eyes. Domenic had to give her credit—she wasn’t going to make this easy for him. He grasped her hands and raised them over her head holding them in one of his.

Grabbing a handful of her thick, sandy hair, he yanked her head to the side, and she gave a scream as he pushed his hips hard against her. Good, that was nice and loud he thought grimly. Carlo would think she had just been penetrated.

“Listen to me,” Domenic hissed in her ear. “I’m not going to rape you.” With that, he bit down hard on her earlobe, and she screeched again, mostly in surprise, but he mimicked another thrust at the same time. Once she realized Domenic wasn’t going to force himself on her, he felt her body go slack.