Finding Forgiveness

I nodded.

“So why didn’t you let go of him when I told you to?” he asked bringing his face close to mine and shaking me by my shoulders. “I don’t want them thinking I can’t control a fucking woman.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Just please don’t let him touch me again.”

“Depends how much he offers me, babe. I’ve made fifty thousand off you already tonight. So, you’re going to come back downstairs, serve our dinner, not speak unless spoken to and do everything I tell you to, got it?”

I nodded again and he dragged me back downstairs.

“I thought you had her on a leash, Andrea?” Giovanni asked as we came back into the kitchen.

“Oh, I do. She’d never dare to even try to do that to me,” he replied sitting back down as I got the pasta out the pan. “See women are like animals chasing prey. If they think they can take you, they will. She obviously perceived you as weak.”

I bit my tongue at his 19th-century comparison and said everything I wanted to say to him in my head.

“Hmm,” Giovanni said with a forced smile before swigging half his beer.

Five minutes later, I was serving them their meals. Andrea insisted that I sat next to him and ate something too. Truthfully, I was now starving but the eyes of four disgusting men staring at you whilst you try to eat is off-putting – to say the very least.

“What’s up, Blanca?” Andrea asked halfway through the meal. His hand rested on my bare leg as he looked me in the eye. “Your food is good. Why aren’t you eating?”This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

“I’m not hungry,” I replied,? wary of where his hand was and how tightly he was now gripping.

“Eat,” he said imperatively.

I looked down and picked up my fork and he took his hand off.

When the meal was over, I cleared up and Andrea made me sit with his friends for hours. They drank beer after beer and joked about sexist, racist and homophobic things that I didn’t find in the slightest bit funny. They also made inappropriate comments about Me and then Leo and then our Kids.

“So what do you want with Loren’s mate anyway?” Giovanni asked. He’d been staring at me for some time without a word and still seemed to be fuming from earlier. “She seems more bother than she’s worth.”

“Four reasons. One, she’s hot and very fuckable. Two, she’s a little trophy giving me the one up on the supposed most powerful man in the world. Three, Loren messed with me so I’m going to mess with him. And finally, I want his pack and we all know stealing a man’s mate is the best way to control him,” Andrea explained.

My eyes widened at the final reason. Andrea wants the pack?

“So you’re planning for world take over?” Pablo asked.

“Pretty much. And this little one, is going to help me,” he replied. “But not yet. He’s 29 right now and probably the strongest he’s ever been. We’ll leave him for five years with eight kids but no mate and see how he’s doing then.”

“So you plan to keep her for five years?” Giovanni asked. “Surely you could spare one night.”

“I don’t think you can handle her,” Andrea said with a laugh. “You might end up dead.”

Giovanni narrowed his eyes, “I’d like to see what she does with a gun to her head.”

Andrea paused for a moment before turning to me.

“Blanca, stand up,” he ordered. I reluctantly did and he pointed to the spot on the other side of the table next to Giovanni. I gingerly walked over there cursing them all to hell. “Ordinarily I wouldn’t allow this but to make up for what happened earlier, it feels right. Blanca, get down on your knees.”

“Why?” I questioned.

“Don’t ask questions. Just do it,” he replied sternly.

I stared blankly at Andrea but he only raised an eyebrow urging me to do it. So I slowly knelt on the floor and Giovanni grabbed my hair with a grin as he reached for his belt.

“How much is this going to cost me, Andrea?” He asked.

“Totally free,” he said. “A gift.”

Giovanni nodded.

“But you can’t cum,” Andrea added. “I don’t want your jizz in my bitch’s mouth.”

He paused from unbuckling his trousers and let out a slight laugh.

“I knew there’d be a catch,” he said letting go of my hair and pushing me away. “Fuck you, Andrea.”

Andrea laughed and beckoned for me to come back to his side. He took my shaking hand in his and kissed my forehead.

“She’s mine,” Andrea said. “None of you can have her. Especially not before me.”

He then turned to me.

“You are excused, Blanca,” he said. “Go upstairs. I’ll be up later.”

I nodded and gladly left the kitchen.

Andrea came into the bedroom an hour or so later after the other men had left. He peeled off his shirt and collapsed next to me on the bed. He reeked of beer and tequila and a shiny sweat was visible on his skin as he fumbled around in his belt for his gun which he then threw carelessly onto the nightstand.

“You’ll feel like shit in the morning if you don’t drink water now,” I said after a few moments. “Even werewolves aren’t immune to that amount of alcohol.”

“Then get me water,” he grumbled.

I got up and fetched him a large glass of water from the bathroom which he proceeded to drink the whole of.

He then rolled onto his back and gestured to his feet, “Take my shoes off.”

I knealt down by the side of the bed and untied his laces before pulling the first shoe off his foot. As I reached for the other, he put his hand on the back of my neck and pushed his fingers up through my hair.

“I want you right now, Blanca,” he replied. “But I’m too drunk.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and continued to fumble with his shoe.

“You need to sleep,” I said after finally getting his shoe off and putting it neatly by the other one at the end of the bed.

He beckoned for me to come closer to him with a hand gesture but his drunken clumsiness gave me the confidence to refuse. He glared for a few moments before lurching forward, grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards him.

I held my breath as he held my face inches away from his and stared in silence. The anticipation of his next move drove me mad, but then he just let me go, rested his head on the pillow and closed his eyes.

“Good night, Blanca,” he mumbled.

I slowly stood up. He didn’t stir.

Keeping my eyes fixated on him, I crept forward and took his gun from the nightstand and then crept back towards the door which was only a couple of metres away and millimetre by millimetre silently turned the knob so that the door could be inched open.

Once I had slipped into the hallway with the bedroom door securely shut, I allowed myself to breathe and press my back against the wall, trying to pull myself together. I looked down at the gun; it was only a shotgun and relatively small but my hand still shook as I held it.

What the hell am I doing? How did I get myself into this?