The Slave of Pleasure

Rachel

The day was bright when Nancy and I walked out the door of the Morette mansion, the tension in the air so palpable it felt like it weighed on our shoulders. The security guards were still in position around the property, but now, more than ever, I knew that being here didn't mean true safety. This was a power play, and I refused to be just a pawn in Veronica's hands.

The driver was parked near the gate, and his eyes reflected uncertainty as he saw us approaching. When he opened the door for us, he hesitated for a moment, as if he already knew that the order I was going to give would go against what Vincenzo would want.

"Where should I take you, Mrs. Rachel?" he asked, his tone careful.

I took a deep breath, adjusting the strap of my bag on my shoulder before looking directly at him.

"To the police station where Vincenzo is being questioned."

The man stood still for a few seconds, his face hardening as he tried to process my words. It was obvious that he knew this was risky, that going there would put everyone in danger. Finally, he nodded, still hesitant.

"Ma'am, are you sure? That... doesn't sound like a good idea."

My patience was wearing thin. The concern in his voice only reminded me of Vincenzo's attempts to keep me away from all this.

"If you don't take us, we'll walk," I declared firmly, crossing my arms as I glared at him.

Nancy, beside me, let out a dramatic sigh and added,

"Yes, we'll walk. We're not afraid."

The driver looked at us, visibly torn between loyalty to Vincenzo and a sense of duty. After a few tense seconds, he relented, nodding as he muttered something inaudibly. We climbed into the car, and the initial silence during the ride was only interrupted by the roar of the engine.

As the vehicle made its way through the streets of Naples, I realized that my mind was in a whirlwind of thoughts. Nancy tried to break the tension with a comment about how good breakfast had been, but I just mumbled in response. My eyes were fixed on the cityscape, but my head was full of images of Vincenzo. He needed me, and I would do whatever it took to help him.

Suddenly, the car slowed down abruptly, and the driver squinted, trying to see ahead. There was something unusual happening on the street.

"There seems to be a traffic jam," he said, frowning.

I leaned forward, trying to see what was causing the blockage, but my vision was limited. The traffic on the street was chaotic, and some people seemed to be getting out of their vehicles to watch what was happening. That was when a deafening crash surprised us.

A loud thud hit the side of the car, throwing Nancy toward me and nearly flipping the vehicle. Her scream echoed through the interior of the car as I tried to hold on. The driver opened the door quickly, perhaps thinking it was an accident, but before he could do anything, he was forcibly pulled out by a burly man covered in tattoos.

I stood frozen for a second, watching as the man effortlessly threw the driver to the ground, knocking him unconscious. The thug then took the wheel, his face scarred and his eyes dark and seemingly devoid of any humanity.

He glanced at Nancy and me in the rearview mirror, his harsh voice cutting through the silence.

"Don't make any sudden moves, or these will be your last hours."

Nancy gripped my hand tightly, and despite the fear in her eyes, I could tell she was trying to look brave. As for me, although the nervousness was present, it wasn't the panic it had been before. Something in me had changed since I decided to face this situation head on.

The man started the car again, giving a short, cynical laugh as he pulled away from the traffic jam, taking a completely different route to the police station.

"Veronica wants to talk to you," he announced, as if it were some random news story. Nancy and I exchanged a quick glance. The certainty that Veronica was behind this was no surprise, but the idea of being taken straight to her was as frightening as it was unnerving. "Where are you taking us?" I asked, my voice firmer than I expected. The man didn't answer, just kept driving, his eyes fixed on the road. He didn't seem to have any intention of explaining his plans. All I knew was that every mile we drove away from the police station seemed to bring us closer to Veronica's territory. Nancy tried to make conversation, perhaps to distract him or to learn more about the situation. "Have you worked for her long?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly. The henchman gave her a threatening look in the rearview mirror, and Nancy quickly backed away, muttering something like, "Just trying to be polite." I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to think of a way to get away. I had to get out of that situation. There was no way to fight someone so big and armed, but maybe there was another way to buy time or even convince that man that we were on the wrong side of Veronica.

The journey continued, and with each turn, the anxiety grew. Finally, the car stopped in front of an abandoned warehouse, surrounded by other dilapidated buildings. It was the kind of place where no one would hear if something happened inside.

The henchman got out of the car first and came to open the door for us, holding our arms to make sure we didn't try to escape. He led us inside the warehouse, where the air was heavy with the smell of mold and dust. The room was dimly lit, with flashing lights and an unsettling silence.

My heart was beating fast, but my gaze remained steady. I knew Veronica wanted to intimidate us, but I wasn't going to give her the pleasure of seeing my fear.

Nancy, next to me, whispered:

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

The truth was, I had no idea. But what else could we do? All I knew was that I had to keep my head up and wait for the right moment to act.

As the henchman led us deeper into the warehouse, I heard the sound of footsteps echoing. Someone was approaching. And before I could prepare myself, Veronica emerged from the darkness.

She was wearing a tight red dress, her lips painted the same intense shade. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and a cold smile curved her lips.

"Rachel, my dear," she said, her voice full of false sweetness. "How nice to see you again."

My entire body was tense, but I maintained my posture.

"I can't say the same," I replied, my voice sharp.

Veronica laughed, as if my answer were a charming joke.

"Ah, you always were a woman of spirit. It's a shame you don't know when to stop."

She approached slowly, her eyes taking in every detail of me and Nancy.

"Vincenzo always had a peculiar taste in women," she commented disdainfully. "But you?" You're a problem that needs to be solved. My heart raced, but I didn't back down.

"You're not going to win, Veronica. All your games, your manipulations... they're all going to end."

She tilted her head, as if considering my words for a moment, before laughing again.

"Honey, this is my game. And you're playing on my board."