(ROMEO)
Rigor led up a flight of stairs, and into a hallway with doors facing each other. He opened one of the doors, peeked inside, then shoved me inside.
"Don't get any stupid ideas," he said and walked out. I heard him order one of the guards to stand watch at the door and see to it that no one walks in or out of the room.
He also added that someone should go clean the mess downstairs where a pet had been put down.
I looked around the room as the reality of how deep the mound of shit I was in slowly sank in. This was indeed slowly starting to truly seem worse than death.
A pet had been put down.
Am I also just another pet? I wondered. Did the other 'pet' get put down because of me? Will I get a bullet in my brain too when my master gets a new pet as well?
I have to escape this place. I thought as I started looking around the room for anything that could be weaponized. To my frustration, everything in the room was either plastic or too heavy to lift. I checked the window to see if I could jump out. The windows were built with thick metallic grills like they had anticipated my attempted escape.
"No silly ideas." Rigor's voice startled me from my preoccupation. I turned, a little frightened.
To my relief, Rigor was standing at the doorway with a tray of food. I could use some more food.
In the tray was a plate of steaming potatoes, grilled chicken, and a glass of what appeared to be juice.
He placed the food on the bedside table.
"Eat and have a shower. You smell like a fucking swine. Boss wants you in his office," he said in a heavy Russian accent, then walked out without waiting for a response.
The aroma of the freshly grilled chicken got me salivating. I sat at the edge of the bed and started biting out chunks of the meat along with big scoops of the mashed potatoes. At first slow, then fast. Fast like I was afraid someone would snatch the remaining food right out of my mouth.
Like Emi had been snatched right out of my hands. Or should I say my mouth?
I could barely taste the food as I washed it down with the juice in one long gulp. My body thanked me.
I then walked over to the locked door where I expected the bathroom to be. I unlocked the door slowly, revealing a huge bathroom packed with everything one could need—from bathrobes and towels on the counter on one end to all kinds of expensive shampoos and shower gels on the other.
A pair of Louis Vuitton sandals sat there waiting for me. I slipped them on like a thong. Then walked in, stood under the shower, turned the setting to hot, then let the water run over my naked body. My body stung as the water and soap washed through my open wounds.
As I watched my blood and sweat go down the drain, I reflected on the events of the previous few days.
Just days ago, I was a respected member of the Bratva. Right now, I'm at the mercy of a trigger-happy gay psycho mafia don. I had fallen from grace overnight. Was this the cost of pussy? Damn, that pussy pricey. I thought as tears of anger welled up in my eyes.
The worst part was that I understood Satoshi's anger. I would have done the same if I was in his shoes.
I just let the tears flow uncontrolled. Before long, I was crouched, sobbing quietly as the water ran over me.
I imagine this is what Marc Anthony and Pitbull referred to when they sang Rain Over Me. I was now a pitbull drenched in the rain—a toothless pitbull. A bull to be pitied.
I do not know how long I had been wallowing in my pity party when the bathroom door swung open.
Rigor stood there with an expression halfway between amusement and anger on his face.
He threw a towel at me, still under the running shower, and thundered, "Your time is up! Let's go!"
"Let me dress up firs—" I tried to protest but was cut off.
"You are here to be seen, not heard. Now shut the fuck up and follow me like you are my goddamn shadow!" he barked as he motioned me to follow him.
I threw on a bathrobe over my still-dripping wet body and followed him.
We went up a flight of stairs, my watery sandals making squishy sounds with every step I took. We got to the third floor, to a door with two men in black suits armed with semi-automatic guns manning the door.
"Just how insecure is this man?" I wondered as I approached the door, my heartbeat slightly quickening. I was nervous.
One of the men in suits opened the door, motioning for me to get in. Rigor walked right on past the door without even acknowledging the presence of the men in black. He clearly had other matters to attend to as I walked alone into the lion's den.
The door closed behind me with a soft click. I looked around at the well-furnished office.
The walls were lined with the heads of different game. An African buffalo head, a lion, a deer, a Siberian tiger, and what appeared to be a large snake head. In the middle of the room was a large mahogany desk.
Ivan was seated behind the desk, going through some paperwork. He did not even look up as I walked in slowly, one step at a time.
I stood a few steps from the door, my hands clasped together like a student in the principal's office—a deer in headlights. Then I stopped and waited.
My attention was still fixated on the giant snake head. Why would anyone taxidermy a snake?
Ivan finally spoke.
"Man." He said, startling me.
"Man is my favorite game to hunt. I find that wine tastes sweetest when drunk from the skulls of my enemies." He said in an icy tone while scanning me.
I did not know how to respond, so I just kept silent. Listening.
My eyes were now on Ivan as he scanned me from head to toe with a certain look I couldn't explain. He then licked his lips in a lusty way before remarking…
"You're beautiful when clean. You will need a couple of days to heal those scars before I can inflict some of my own."
"Now drop the bathrobe. I want to see what I paid for."
I dropped it.
"Now turn around."
I turned around, letting his eyes feast on my naked body.
He looked on keenly, spending a disproportionate amount of time on my butt and cock. Weirdly enough, I kind of liked it. I even felt my cock twitch as I almost got a hard-on. This was a little disturbing because I liked girls. I had almost died for pussy.
He continued, "Mmmhhhh, I like what I see."
"Go sleep. Victor will give you details on your first job first thing in the morning. Any questions?"
"Yes," I said, "what is my job?"
"Whatever I say. Whenever I say. However I say," he said. "Play nice and you might live. Play Mr. Smartypants, and I think you already know what happens to stray dogs." He dismissed me with a wave of his hand.
As I returned to my room, I noticed the cameras positioned in all corners of the house.
Escape is going to be impossible here. I thought. Difficult takes a day; impossible takes a week.
Just as I was about to sleep, a handwritten note—stained with fresh blood—was slipped under my door.
With my heart slamming against my ribcage, I read Satoshi's unmistakable handwriting:
"DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR."