Page 93 of Villainous Kingpin

My legs gave away, my sin too hard to bear and I fell down to my knees. I wanted to sink down through the tiled floor and let the ground swallow me. I was a monster, just like my father.

My eyes connected with the soft brown ones, full of anguish and pain. I caused it. I was directly responsible for it. I’d go to hell for it.

I had no idea who she was. I should know whose downfall I caused, shouldn’t I? Yet, I didn’t dare to ask her. Each soft whimper of hers laid blame. It screamed my betrayal at her innocence.

I had given my father open access to her.

Father stalked toward me and pulled me roughly to my feet.

“Pull yourself together,” he hissed, then shoved me into an empty chair. “You did good, boy.”

I had to fight the urge to spit in his face. I hated his guts so much that red mist marred my vision. This hatred choked me, threatening to swallow me whole and leave me in complete darkness. Yet, I knew I had to fight it. For Emory.

If I succumbed to the darkness, my little sister would have nobody left. She needed me.

Father moved to the only living attacker. He didn’t try to crawl away; instead he crawled toward the woman. The woman he loved, I realized by the look in his eyes. I had seen it on TV when my old nanny watched her soaps.

Father lifted the man up with one hand and tied him up to the chair nearest to the woman. But far enough that he wouldn’t be able to reach her.

Then with a cruel gleam in his eyes, Father’s eyes zeroed in on the woman.

He unbuckled his pants, then whipped his belt out of the loops in one swift movement.

“Now, let’s finish what we started,” he purred as bile crawled up my throat. “Now, Son, I want you to see how a woman is fucked. They’re good for pleasure only. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The screams filled the room, high-pitched and gutting.

First, he fucked her mouth so violently that she gagged. But the entire time, he kept a gun aimed at the attacker.

“If I feel one single scrape of your teeth, I shoot him again,” Father grunted as he pushed himself deeper down her throat. It didn’t end there. Tears streamed down her face, with each passing minute I watched something slowly die in her eyes.

When he finished, Father squirted his cum all over her face. “That’s how we treat whores. And you’re all whores.”

Letting his dick hang, like a disgusting, shriveled cucumber, he strode to the tied up man.

“How does it feel, figlio di puttana, to know you’ll never fuck her virgin pussy? Her virgin ass?”

Father reached for his knife and touched it to the man’s bullet wound, then wedged the point into it. The screams rang, my blood buzzed and the scent of metallic blood filled my nose.

Miscalculation, my mind whispered. I missed my chance and chose to save my father, at the expense of an innocent.

Father glanced my way. “Did you learn something today, Son?” Father muttered.

I nodded my head, but I remained numb. My answer wouldn’t please him, might even earnmea bullet.

He untied the woman, then yanked her hair. Then bent her over the kitchen table, so she’d face me. Then in one forceful push, he buried himself deep into her ass. As he fucked her raw, her naked body sliding back and forth across the table, she kept her eyes on me.

Accusing. Broken. Hateful.

“Keep your eyes on him, whore,” Father grunted. My hands shook, a roar formed in my throat, clawing to get out. “He’s learning.”

I learned that day that I’d never be able to coexist with my father.

That night, he threw the woman to traffickers. It was a retribution for her father’s betrayal. Many years later, I searched for her. I wanted to save her, atone for my sins and explain myself to her.

‘I didn’t know’seemed inadequate. Yet, I had nothing else.

But before I got to her, Nico Morrelli saved her. She worked for him, even ran a shelter for abused women. Her eyes were still dark but her hair was white as snow. Like her innocence before my father destroyed it.