Kidnapped By The Mafia King

—Ellie— I walked around barefoot on the beach. This was exactly what I needed before I started my new job next month. A vacation for just me where I could relax and have no one bother me. The sun was going down, it was getting late so I decided to go to the bar. Who knows, maybe I'll find someone to keep me company. I was wearing a short red dress and black stilettos, this look was definitely going to get me a man tonight. I ordered a dirty martini and sat down on the barstool, my eyes scanned the bar to look for any hot male who could keep me company tonight and there were some nice ones to pick from. But I had my eye on one. He was over by the pool table, he was dressed casually but he looked dark and mysterious and that drew me to him. But just as I'm about to approach him, he goes outside. I follow him outside, my hills quietly clicked on the pavement, and my breath closed around me. Goosebumps broke out over my skin, and I wished I had worn a sweater. A black SUV turned off the street, rolling down the alley that ran adjacent to the bar. The guy from the bar had his back turned, talking on his cell phone. He nodded to the guys in the SUV. I stood close to the building, watching. The guys got out of the SUV. One had a gun tucked into his pants. He moved out of the driver’s side, standing with his legs wide and arms crossed, trying to look tough. Another man exited the SUV and went around to the back where he opened the door. The guy from the bar pulled out a wad of cash and handed it to the man by the back of the SUV. He carefully counted it, then turned, pulling a brown paper bag from the vehicle. Oh sh*t. Did I just witness a drug deal, I needed to get out of here before anyone sees me. Then I heard footsteps behind me. My heart stopped, and white-hot fear paralyzed me. F*ck. “Hey lady!” he shouted, loud enough for the other guys to hear. My fingers closed around my cell phone. The guys looked up. The one with the gun moved forward, fast. Too fast. Oh sh*t. “What are you doing, lady?” the guy asked, moving close behind me. He had a thick Mexican accent. “Uh,” I started. I batted my lashes and took a step forward, stumbling like I was drunk. “Looking for my friend,” I blurted. “You should go back inside,” he said. A chill ran through me. Yes, yes I should. I swallowed hard. “It’s not safe out here for a pretty lady like you.” But just as I turned around to head back to the bar, darkness consumed me, and something cold pressed against my neck. The jolt of electricity rendered me useless, and my limbs went slack. Then I passed out. —Tristan— I sat with my legs spread and one hand on my c*ck. I licked my lips, slowly stroking my shaft while I watched the two girls on the bed. Both were young, eighteen or nineteen, maybe, and both had soft blonde hair, blue eyes, and too much makeup. Just the way I like them. They weren’t twins, or even related, but had done their hair and makeup in such a way it was hard to tell them apart. I referred to them by the color of their lingerie. “Do you like that?” Blue asked Red. She stuck her hand inside Red’s panties. Red opened her mouth and dramatically moaned. The theatrics were overdone and not convincing me this girl was really getting off. I moved my hand up and down a little faster. I didn’t want to lose my hard on. “Yeah, baby,” Red panted. “Oh, don’t stop.” The girls lay back on the bed, and Blue stripped Red of her lace panties. She tossed them at me; they landed by my feet. I picked them up, smiling at the girls. I kept working my hand, running my thumb over the tip of my d*ck, bringing the pre-c*m down to lubricate my shaft as I pumped my hand. Blue got to her knees and spread Red’s legs. Then she dove in. I watched Red’s face. “Come here, now,” I ordered. Red scrambled up and hurried over. Still jerking my d*ck with one hand, I reached out with the other and grabbed Red’s wrist. I pulled her down to her knees, opening my legs. She fit right between, putting her hands on my thighs. I kept the momentum going until her warm mouth closed around the tip of my d*ck. I let go and grabbed handfuls of her hair. I tipped my head back. Red was good. She took me in her mouth and down her throat. She moved fast, sucking hard, then let up. She cupped my balls and slipped one finger toward my *ssh*l* but didn’t stick it inside. The tease turned me on. I pushed her head down. I was ready to come. I wanted to come. She closed her lips around me and s*ck*d hard as I came. I held her head down, keeping her mouth on my c*ck as it pulsed. My heart had sped up and the blowjob was good, but it still felt forced. I sighed and let go of Red’s hair. She swallowed, batting her eyes and smiling at me. “Go,” I said, dismissing the girls. They looked a little taken back by my urgency to see them leave. They had done their job; they weren’t needed anymore. I was a good-looking man, and I say that not to boast, but honestly. I had tan skin, dark hair, and dark eyes. I looked like my father. I inherited more than my chick-magnet good looks from him; I inherited his drug and weapon empire. And money. A f*ck*ng lot of money. I had multiple houses, expensive cars, staff to wait on me, and the best of everything. Inheriting my last name was one of the best things I took from my father. And sometimes the worst. We, the Russo's, were revered in Mexico. Our “family business” went back several generations. It had grown the most during my father’s time. I felt the pressure to uphold our name and keep the money coming in now that I was the boss. “Tristan, señor,” the voice on the other end spoke. “¿Qué pasa?” I answered in Spanish. “It’s Diego.” “I know,” I went on. Diego oversaw deals to the States and didn’t speak English. He’d been a family friend for decades. I trusted him to have my back but not to make the best decisions. He was good at following directions, at least. “Why are you calling me?” I tried to stay calm. “We have a slight problem.” My heart spiked at the word “problem.” I closed my eyes in a long blink. “What is it?” "Well, there was a girl who saw us making the drug deal. But we got her, don't worry boss." I blinked. “Got her?” “Yes. She’s with us.” I wanted to slam my head into the wall. “Did you shoot her?” “No. I knew better than that, sir. We took her.” I wanted to slam my face into the wall. “You kidnapped an American citizen. Where the f*ck are you?” “The warehouse, señor.” “I’ll be right there,” I said through clenched teeth. I hung up the phone and got dressed, grabbing a pair of dark jeans and a black long sleeve t-shirt. I tucked a gun into the back of my pants. I hurried down the stairs and pulled the keys to my Porsche on the way into the five-car garage. I sank into the driver’s seat. The car was new. It smelled like rich leather. But even the new car scent did little to calm me. I was mad. So f*ck*ng mad. I wanted to hit Diego, never mind him being a friend, for doing something so f*ck*ng dumb. Shooting an american citizen was one thing. Kidnapping and smuggling one across international borders was another. I couldn’t let her go. I’d have to kill her.

—Tristan— I drove through the gates of the warehouse, waving to my paid guards as I sped by. They were heavily armed and on the top of their game. I slammed on the brakes, almost forgetting to turn off the car before I got out. “¿Dónde está la chica?” I demanded. Diego used his thumb to point behind him. “Ella está ahí, senor.” “Why the fuck didn’t you leave her?” Diego’s face paled. “She knew how we were. Saw an exchange. She’d report us.” I clenched my teeth and shook my head. “So your genius idea was to bring her here?” I waved my hand in the air. There was no point in questioning Diego. It was already done. Now I had to clean up the mess. I pushed past him. “Let me speak to her.” Carl opened the door and flicked on the light. It hummed, slowly growing brighter and brighter. I narrowed my eyes and was surprised by what I saw.