“Traded for love” [Book 1 - Mafia in love]

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Chapter 33 - The story of Vivi [Republished]


There are already six months since I am living in Italy, with Enzo.

We’ve had some ups and downs but overall, we live good together.

We travelled around Italy for a few good months and spent time together more than I ever expected.

From time to time Enzo would dive into work for a few hours, mostly making calls one after another or typing at his laptop totally isolated from the world around.

He would get tensed at times. I could feel that when coming to me and cuddle to my chest, with his nose buried in the crock of my neck and I knew that the best thing to do was just to hold him and let him feel me close.

He was always quiet about his work. Never shared with my anything but I was used to it. Lucas was the same.

The work that men in my life did was not something to share nor something I wanted to know about. But I was wondering what would turn him so much into a ball of nerves and sorrow when he didn’t even get into his Don role yet. He kept saying there was till time for it but I knew he was just procrastinating.

He never wanted it and I felt guilty. He had to accept it because of me and I wished I was worth it. He never made me feel otherwise.

We are back to Naples for one month now. His work became more urgent and heavier.

All the spare time he has, and he is home he is offering it to me, as if trying to pay me back for the time he is away.

He knows I am all alone in the house, sometimes with Feli, but I don’t mind.

What felt uncomfortable though was the fact that I was not allowed to leave the house unless it was with Enzo or his guards.

He kept telling me something about not being safe and that they had to postpone the announcement of his coming back.

Didn’t give much thought about it after a while. I didn’t care about going out. Where would I go?

I like being alone, it allows me time for myself, time for things I miss, time for sleeping, fainted for days as I still use my sleeping pills, time to wonder until it hurts if Lucas made it through, if he is still alive.

I could easily find out calling his parents but what would I say? ′Hey, it’s me, the woman that brought your son to his death. Excuse me, is he still alive?

I hoped he would search for me. I was so sure he would just as much as I was sure of my next breath. But having no sign of him made me fear the worst.

And today was one of those days, the days when I would linger in bed, drained of tears, gulping pills and booze until I felt high and numb of all feelings.

Enzo was out of Sicily for the past three days and he didn’t call since then. We had a fight before he left.

I kept asking for my divorce papers for the millionth time and each time he would say he doesn’t have them. The lawyers didn’t get them back.

I was hanging on that reply not because I wanted to be sure that Lucas finally let me go, which deep down I never wanted to happen, but because I knew that getting back those papers meant he was alive, and I desperately wanted to know that.

Feli was out to Rome as well, meeting some long-life friend and I suspected he wasn’t just a dear friend, judging by the sparkles in her eyes when she would speak about him.

It was lovely to see the happiness shining in her eyes, that happiness I missed in mine.

She deserved it. She was a wonderful woman although I knew she didn’t find me the safest choice for Enzo.

She respected his decisions and gave me the kindest side of her heart. But she didn’t contact me either, since she left. I didn’t blame her. She must have the time of her life.

And all of that made me miss Lucas even more, until it burned my chest where my heart laid.

Enzo and I didn’t talk about her as well, ever since we had that dinner and I popped up the question.

He told me a few times, in a cold and threatening voice that I should stay away from the apartment at the second floor and I did.

I was not interested of that past, I didn’t care, I was not jealous.

But somehow today, after... damn, I don’t even know how many days have passed since I am high with pills and booze, today I was curious.

I was alone in the house and had nothing to do, nobody caring if I was still alive or not, so after making my coffee and taking a hold of the mug with the steaming liquid I took my way to the second floor.

It was a sunny today, a beautiful day if you must ask, because opening my eyes I felt the urge to open the curtains of my room and let the sun wash the darkness and the gloom of my room.

Once in front of the apartment from the second floor, I take a deep breath and grab the door knob, opening it shyly and peeking my head inside.

Once the door is fully opened a blade of sun hits my eyes between the thick velvet curtains hanging at the windows, sparkles of dust dancing in the sun rays.

I enter a large living room where all pieces of furniture are covered with white sheets to protect them from dust.

On my left there is a hallway and right in front of me there are two huge glass doors going on the balcony, the signature of this house design.

Curiosity took me to the hallway on my left, tiptoeing along it as if someone would come in and catch me here. I was all alone in the damn house.

The hallway took me to one beautiful nursery room, designed in white, cream and powder pink, a room for a baby girl, I was sure.

Unlike the living room and the master room I could see on my right side from the hallway, the furniture was not covered with white sheets, dust reigning the place all over except one rocking chair, as if someone was using it constantly, or recently.

Coming closer, I trail my fingers on the armrests of the rocking chair, giving it a push and leaving it move slowly, back and forth.

And I smile, a bitter painful smile thinking back of the child I have lost not long ago.

It feels like yesterday.

I shift my eyes to the window when I feel a cold iron poking the back side of my neck and I freeze in my spot, air stopping in my lungs and body becoming hard as a rock.

“Don’t. Fucking. Move!” a devilish voice whispered in my back, one that I didn’t recognize, and which staged ice blades along my spine. “Put the mug down and don’t fucking turn around.”

I did as I was told, hands trembling as I placed the coffee mug on the nightstand on my right side.

“Who are you? What do you want?” I mumbled with fear.

If before I wished for my death, right now I was scared like shit of it.

And all I could think of was Lucas.

I didn’t know if he was still alive and if I was to die here and now he would never know, even if he was still alive.

I didn’t want to die. In a strange way, the last few months I lived here, and let me tell you, I had plenty of time on my hands, I started to find life worth living, a hope of having Lucas back stubbornly building up in my heart.

I hear footsteps behind, and I know another person is coming in.

“Tie her up,” the guy with the gun in my back says and my hands are grabbed behind while I start jerking and fighting back in the hope of being able to run away.

But I fell limp on the floor with a hit in the back of my head and everything became dark.

My eyes forcibly closed as the pain invaded my brain.

“Why?” I ask tilting my head back, with my eyes closed, smiling when his perfume invades my nostrils as he is coming closer to me.

I had been waiting for him to come home almost all evening and when he called to say he was five minutes far from home I ran to our bedroom, put on my sexiest lingerie I had and went downstairs in the living room to wait for him.

When the entrance door opened I stood up, leaned my back against the door frame of the living where I knew he had a full view and waited him to come closer as his bitter wood perfume made my senses go wild.

I didn’t have to open my eyes, I felt him and tilted my head back just in time for him to cup my cheeks with his hands and brush my lips with his hot breath, so close to a kiss.

“Why what, baby girl?” he replied in a husky voice trailing kisses along my jaws and neck.

“Why have you left me waiting for you the entire day?” I breathed turned on, ravished by his seductive touches.

“Because I knew you would wait for me like this. It’s driving me fucking crazy,” he replied grabbing my butt and lifting me so I could curl my legs around his waist, his mouth crashing on mine sucking the little air I had left in my lungs and all of the sudden I felt drowning in a sea of water.


I jumped and shouted as the freezing water splashed on my head and face, rolling down my body and making me shiver.

“Wake up!” a male voice shouted at me and I struggled to open my eyes and assess my surroundings.

It was nothing unfamiliar to me. A dungeon, a basement, like my father had, like Lucas had.

I immediately realized I was taken, for the fucking millionth time.

I was laying on the cold cement floor, my legs tied with a chain.

“Fuck, I thought you died. You are a shitty trouble, do you know that? You didn’t wake up for like two days,” the man continued.

I was here for two days and nobody came for me?

“Why am I here? What do you want from me?” I asked trying to shift my place and move from the pool of water I was sitting in, frozen like ice.

“Nothing from you. Or maybe not yet,” he chuckled threatening.

“From whom, then?” I asked again but my head was throbbing like hell in pain.

“From Vincenzo Benito. He took something of mine and I took something of his.”

“The fuck you did. What makes you think I am his?”

“He is fucking you, isn’t he? So, you are his.”

“You’re crazy. You don’t know what you are talking about.”

“But I do. Do you know what is the room we’ve taken you from?”

I lifted my eyes to him in wonder.

What was the connection between me being kidnapped, Enzo fucking me and me being in that room?

Something told me I was just about to find out the truth of that apartment.

“That’s the room where my fiancé was killed. Because Enzo could not keep his dick in his pants.”

I was listening to this man’s words and I was trying to understand how come I found out so many things about Enzo from the mouth of someone I never saw before and not Enzo himself.

I should have asked him again. I should have insisted that he told me about her.

The guy was standing in front of me with hands shoved in the pockets, wearing a dreadful smirk on his lips and deadly looks in his eyes. I felt his hate crawling under my skin, and I knew that whatever ill will he had against Enzo, it was serious. And dangerous.

He pulled a chair close and sat on it, unbuttoning the jacket of his suit in the process and frowning his black, thick eyebrows shadowing some amber eyes filled with disgust.

“You see, Rebecca...” he spoke, chewing the inside of his cheek. “I loved Vivi with all I had holly. Her father promised her to me, I was supposed to marry her, my family and her family were supposed to merge businesses and I was going to take over both of the families’ wealth. But I lost that. He fucked Vivi, she fell in love, she got fucking knocked up with his baby and she ran away. With him. In his fucking house. But the stupid idiot had to be the idiot he had always been and left her alone in that house, with their baby and left to get fucking drunk and high.”

The man stood up from the chair he was sitting on and walked towards me while telling me this story that I didn’t believe.

I didn’t want to believe it.

I can’t even imagine the pain Enzo was holding inside of him.

My chin felt pain as it was now grabbed with a strong squeeze of by the fingers of the hands of my kidnapper.

He bends to the level my eyes, coming inches close to my face, tilting his head on one side and looking like a freaking insane person making my blood run cold.

He was oozing pain and death, plastering a mocking smirk on his face while staring at me.

“Exactly in that night Vivi and her baby girl got killed by the hands of men sent there by her father. She betrayed, she brought shame to the family and she had to pay. And now, you have to pay.”

“What do I have to do with all these?” I managed to mumble.

“You will feel the pain I have felt when all my plans have gone to hell because of Vincenzo Benito. And then you will tell him about that pain, and I hope it will kill him little by little until he will cut his own neck,” and thus being said, he grabbed the back of my neck with one hand and crushed the other on one of my breasts squeezing till I felt pain blasting through it, all the way to my spine.

I pushed him away as my hands were still untied. I tried to save myself, hitting him with my legs but he slapped me and threw me right on my other side, crashing on the floor.

Next came a fist in my jaw and I heard the bones screeching.

Another pain was thrusted through my body as a foot landed in my stomach and as if this was not enough, a body crushed on me, forcing my hands above my head in a steel hold of a hand while another was splitting my legs open, tearing my panties away.

“You fucking bitch! You will not get away from this,” he was shouting while trying to make his way between my thighs and when I was just about to give in, knowing very well I wouldn’t be able to put up with his force, the cement room filled with some excruciating sounds of gunshots, hitting loudly the walls, intensifying the horror to unbelievable levels.

The heavy load of the body crushing me disappeared and before I blinked twice some strong arms lifted me from the floor, dragging me out while the gun shots could be heard further away.

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