Bound by the Don(13)

Vittorio sucked in a breath, turning his attention on the man next to him, his gun trained on Vittorio in case he tried something stupid. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't protect himself, nor could he protect Sharon any longer. The only thing he could hope for was that his men would get there before the others found Sharon.



"You want to know why I buy my women?" Rocco asked after a moment, his eyes back on Vittorio. "Because if you let them get too close to you, then you become weak. Just look at you. Lara made you soft, made you not want to get involved in this nasty business. So, I eliminated her, just like I am gonna eliminate this chick for you as well."



Vittorio growled, but said nothing. That was where Rocco was wrong. Sharon had made him stronger, made him realize that there was something else to this life, other than his family business. She had shown him compassion, love.



"Boss! I found something!"



"Watch him," Rocco stated as he walked from the room.



Vittorio's stomach rolled as he watched him walk down the hall, toward the safe room. There was no doubt in his mind that he had found Sharon. It wasn't more than a minute later that Rocco walked back into the room with another one of his men, motioning for them to bring Vittorio. Vittorio attempted to fight them but was rewarded with a few more punches that left him dizzy, gasping for breath.



They dragged him toward the room and ice ran in his veins as he saw they had the keypad out, the one that would take his thumb print to open the door.



"Get his thumb," Rocco commanded.



Vittorio fought as hard as he could, but they grabbed the wrist that was likely broken, forced the limp hand open, and brought it up to the scanner.



Shit. This was about to be bad and he couldn't stop it.



He had failed.





Chapter 18


Sharon



Sharon backed up against the wall as she heard the voices on the other side of the door. Her heart was racing. She had cried out when she'd heard the gunshots, worried about Vittorio and if he was going to survive.



If he didn't, she didn't know what she would do.



But the gunfire had died away and, for a while, she thought that no one was out there. She waited for someone to open the door and let her out. Now, however, she could feel the danger on the other side of the door. The door lock whirled, and she crouched by the bag, rifling through it to find a weapon, anything she could use to defend herself. There was no doubt in her mind that Vittorio was not on the other side of that door.



Her hands brushed across something sharp and Sharon pulled it out. It was a retractable knife, like the ones used to open boxes. Quickly, she pushed the blade all the way up and tucked it into her palm as the door started to open.



She was right. It was not Vittorio coming to rescue her.



"Come on out," Rocco Anafesto called from the opening. "I know you are in here. Clever, Cortarini, hiding her in here."



Vittorio was still alive.



Relief momentarily flooded Sharon's body as two men entered the space, their leering grins making her feel sick to her stomach.



"Come on slut," one of them said, reaching for her arm and pulling her roughly to her feet. "The boss wants to see you."



"No," Sharon shouted as his fingers dug into the skin on her upper arm, pulling her across the floor.



He ignored her and soon Sharon was in the bedroom once more, a small cry escaping her mouth as her eyes laid on Vittorio. He looked nothing like the cocky mob boss that had kissed her so tenderly earlier.



In his place was a lump of blood, his face swollen behind recognition.



"Come on," Rocco said, motioning to his men. "Let's go back into the living room. There's more room in there anyway."



Sharon was dragged down the hall by her hair, her scalp on fire as she fought to get out of the strong hold they had her in, tears in her eyes. They were going to kill them both, though Vittorio looked almost there. Her poor, proud mafia man. He had done so much to protect her.



She was thrown on the floor not far from Vittorio, against the back of the couch. Rocco came into her vision.



"Well slut," he said, a leer on his face. "Looks like you wormed your way into Contarini's life and he might actually care for you. Too bad. If only you had come to be with me, I would have already turned you loose for the streets to deal with you."                       
       
           



       



"Please," Vittorio rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do whatever you want to me but leave her alone."



Rocco laughed.



"Are you fucking serious? You want me to leave her alone? Who says you are in any position to bargain?"



Vittorio licked his lips and Sharon's heart broke as blood dribbled out of his mouth. A sob escaped her.



"I'll give you anything."



Rocco tsked and the man beside Vittorio kicked him hard.



"Stop!" Sharon cried out. "Please! Haven't you done enough?"



"Not nearly enough," Rocco sneered, looking down at her. "And I'm gonna break him before I kill him, starting with you."



Sharon tried to back up, but the couch was already at her back as Rocco reached for her, dragging her near Vittorio.



"You are gonna watch me fuck your girl," he said harshly as his men came to hold Sharon down. "And I hope to God her screams follow you to hell."



Sharon's heart stopped as she was spread eagled. Rocco leered over her as he ran a hand down her body, gripping the waistband of her shorts.



"We already know you don't have any panties on."



Her eyes found Vittorio, but he was looking away, his head hanging, and she realized there was nothing that he could do.



"Please," she said as Rocco tugged on her shorts. "Let me take them off."



Rocco licked his lips, nodding to the men who were holding her down.



"Release her hands, she can't do anything anyway."



Sharon exhaled as they did so, waiting until Rocco was fumbling with his pants before she struck. She caught his hands with the razor blade. He screamed and fell back as gunfire erupted around her.



Suddenly, a large body covered hers and she screamed before she realized Vittorio had somehow launched himself to cover her from the gunfire.



But, as soon as it started, it was over. Vittorio's body sagged against hers and she felt the warm stickiness of his blood seeping into her clothes.



"Vittorio," she whispered, her hands touching the face that was resting against her chest. "Oh god, please don't be dead."



"N-not yet," he groaned, before he was lifted off her and Marcello filled her vision.



"Are you okay?"



"I'm fine," she said shakily, pulling herself to a sitting position. The air was heavy with blood and gunfire and she tried not to look at the bloody bodies that seemed to fill the living room. "Vittorio."



Marcello stopped her before she could go over to him.



"He's in a bad way."



"I don't care!" she shouted, pushing at his shoulders and moving him out of her way.



Sharon hurried to Vittorio's side and knelt beside him. He seemed to be bleeding everywhere all at once. She was unsure what to do. The tears streamed down her cheeks.



"Help him."



A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, comforting her.



"We will."



Sharon turned to Marcello and leaned against him, her tears wetting his shirt. She couldn't lose Vittorio now, not when they had just found each other again.





Chapter 19


Vittorio



Vittorio woke with a start, wincing as he pried his eyes open to an unfamiliar, ornate ceiling. Hell, he hurt all over. Even his scalp ached with the slightest bit of movement.



Well, he couldn't be dead then.



Groaning, he shifted on the soft mattress, pain shooting through his body. In all his days, he hadn't been this beat up before, like a truck had ran over him numerous fucking times. What the fuck had happened?



Then it all came back in a rush. Rocco breaking into his penthouse, finding Sharon, beating Vittorio. Shit, what had happened?



"So, you are awake."



Vittorio turned his head carefully and made out Marcello leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was wary but didn't hide the exhaustion that radiated from him.



"You look like shit."



Marcello let out a laugh.



"You should see yourself. You look like someone put you in a meat grinder, my friend."



Vittorio was scared to even laugh, the pain in his side making it difficult to even breathe.



"How bad is it?"



"Three broken ribs, a broken nose and a concussion. Bullet hole in the left calf, wrist fractured. You sure is hell ain't a handsome fella right now."



"Sharon?" he forced out, scared to ask.



He didn't remember much about that night, only bits and pieces fractured in his thoughts.



"She's fine, worried about your ass. Fuck man, you scared all of us. You have been out for three days."