Sold To Mr. Milano - Daniella Wright Page 0,24

of woman I am.”

“Let’s find out. Shall we?”

I tightened the chains again with a sudden and startling crank of the spools. She screamed, but mostly out of dread. I knew they still weren’t tight enough to really hurt her...not in the way a man would be stretched out if he were in her place. But the discomfort and the anticipation of how much further it could go was enough to make her cry out for me to stop.

“I’ll ask you again. What do you know? If Don Martino was standing in front of you right now...what would you tell him?”

“I don’t know anything!” she answered more vehemently this time.

“Nothing? Nothing at all?” I turned the crank again.

“If I did know anything I’d rather be ripped in half then ever tell you!”

I stepped away from the cranks, knowing she would be ripped in half if I didn’t restrain myself. I would have to find some other way to make her talk. I walked over to the door and opened it to give instructions to one of the men outside. They set off to fulfill my request, leaving me alone with Alicia once again.

I marveled at how disheveled and frazzled she looked, but somehow a defiant strength still shined through it all. I wasn’t sure I had ever met a woman who was so tough, but I knew I would find a way to break her down. Even some of the strongest men hadn’t been able to hold up under my questioning, and I was certain she would be no different.

8

Alicia

I was surprised that Alberto stopped cranking the chains I was attached to. I expected him to keep tightening them until my bones broke, but instead, he only let them cause a terrible sting. No real damage was done. Then there was the leather roll of tools waiting on the table in the corner - some of them not even fully washed of blood from their last use. But he didn’t use those either. At least not yet.

I knew he was a bad man. He didn’t have the reputation that he did for no reason. I had heard he was cold-hearted and ruthless. He would do things that would make other men like him squirm and feel sick. He was without a conscience. I knew all of that, but why was he not destroying me the way I expected him to?

He paced the room in front of me like a restless wild animal waiting to pounce, but everything seemed to be teaming up inside of him without fully seeping out. It’s like there was some invisible line he wouldn’t allow himself to cross, and judging by the way his skin was taking on a flushed red tint and the gleam of sweat, not being able to cross that line seemed to be getting to him.

I wanted whatever was going to happen to be over with. I was in the right frame of mind to endure this, even if it meant I died. If he did kill me, what I knew would be useless. If I told him, he would likely kill me anyway. The outcome for me was the same regardless, so all I had to cling to was the principle of the matter. I couldn’t let him win. I couldn’t give him what he wanted.

Withstanding interrogation was something I had been secretly preparing for. My father taught me many things, but this was not something he would have ever had the stomach for. He didn’t want to imagine me ending up here enough to even discuss it. But I knew my curious spirit and the drive I had for justice, and always thought I might end up in this very spot one day. I clung to what I had studied. I had to forget that I knew anything at all so that when the real torture began, it wouldn’t accidentally slip out.

But Alberto’s stalling made me squirm. Maybe that’s why he did it. If that was the case, I was determined to ruin that for him as well. I rolled my neck to soothe my tightened muscles. My bones let out a loud, soothing crack.

I sighed and moaned from the sensation. “Ah, thank you for the workout, Alberto. I needed that. My neck has been too stiff lately. The mattresses around here...they’re not what I would have expected from someone with as big of a fortune as yours.”

I braced myself for him to turn and tear into me, but he was