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SICK FANTASIES

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Chapter 6: SICK FANTASIES

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“Oh, you’re back,” says Ronan without looking up from the papers in his desk. “I heard you were staying longer though.”

“Clyde had to come back so I came with him,” explains Jana nonchalantly.

A long washed out denim coat hangs from her shoulders, falling casually over a pair of fitted black pants and a plain white shirt. Her hair falls naturally over her forehead while her eyes are covered by a pair of round glasses.

“You two are nauseously cute,” confesses the younger with a fake gag. “Have you talked to Lucius yet? I know he will be happy to see you are back earlier.”

“No, not yet.” She sighs before a yawn catches her by surprise. The jet lag deciding to hit her tired body. “I’ve heard a few things about your little trip to the strip club.”

“You are getting old, do you know that?. You should go rest,” says Ronan ignoring the second part. He knew Jana would flip out when she heard about the club, causing the situation she was in at the moment, but he also thought Jana wouldn’t be back for another three weeks; enough time to think about how to hide everything from her.

“Where is the girl?”

“Just drop it, Jana.”

“Where is she, Ronan?” Ronan feels the heavy sight weighting on him.

That is the thing with Jana, she is not part of the mafia which means she has no status nor authority whatsoever. She is just Clyde’s wife.

Virtually, no one inside that house had any obligation to obey her; they barely had a commitment to be polite to her for respect towards Clyde.

But Jana was a woman who called for respect.

Everyone inside the mansion, including Diaz, listened to her, giving her more than polite treatment, rather looking up to her and her natural power. Even Ronan found himself taken aback every time Jana would use his work name with that authoritative tone only she could manage to have and which made Ronan want to lower his head.

He still had a bunch of files to read for their next meeting and getting Jana angry would only be a pain in his ass. In the end, Jana would go find Diaz anyways; no point in wasting time on getting her all riled up.

“She has been spending most of her time inside Diaz’s room. She will be there, most likely.”

Jana nods, leaving the room with a serious expression.

Ronan knew what was coming, that expression ensuing chaos in the near future. Knowing this, the hitman grabs his files and leaves for the kitchen where Harley is surely preparing dinner. He will hide near him to avoid the fiery fight he knows Jana will start.

*****

When she heard from Clyde, that Diaz had found a new toy and brought her home, she felt her insides churn.

Jana knew, better than anyone, how similar Diaz was to his psychopath of a father. The man was scum who broke his kids to the point of no return.

He was the reason Clyde had gone crazy all those years ago and now, why Diaz had been torturing an innocent soul. The man had taught them if they wanted something they needed to grab it, no matter the consequences; everything was just an obstacle that could be overtaken.

The mansion is filled with Diaz’s men, mostly for security. The deeper she walked, however, the less people were patrolling the hallways. It doesn't take her long to get to Diaz’s room, seeing as she is almost running, a bunch of memories of the past boss spending too much time inside his room just to leave a broken body behind every time he came out, chasing him.

She opens the door. She wants to drop and cry.

The room is dark inside since the curtains are closed shut, only with two of the lamps near the bed illuminating their surroundings. The bed is almost cast in shadows except for the skinny figure lying near the right side.

The girl’s body is splayed over the sheets with her white skin showing entirely naked, shining against the warm light. Her head is hanging from the edge making her blonde hair stick away from her face, weighted by gravity, and leaving her beautiful blood covered features on display.

One of her arms is tied with a piece of silk fabric being held up from the top of the canopy bed while her other arm lies lifeless to one of her sides.

The scene is taken out of a painting, the girl so beautiful even in the heartbreaking sight.

Jana approaches the bed with shy steps, scared of seeing the most ethereal figure she has ever seen, dead. The more she shortens the distance the clearer the view gets.

A single trail of blood runs from a cut on her upper lip to her forehead, to her hair and all the way, dripping onto the white fur carpet. Her fleshy lips are open in a silent scream.

The older circles the bed to reach the side but stops on her heels. Now that she is this close she can see the woman’s eyes, dead brown irises circled by white tinted with blood rushing to her face by force of gravity, looking straight into nothing.

The girl is alive. And she definitely is dead.

Jumping into action, Jana unties the fabric around the blonde’s wrist, lowering her arm gently as she slides a hand under her back to help her sit.

“Lucius? .” A whisper leaves her lips too faintly.

It would’ve been lost into the air were it not for Jana having her ear almost glued to her lips as she tries to push up the dead weight.

It is such a quiet whisper rich in hopelessness.

How long has she been suffering like this? Left a wreck for Lucius to clean.

Jana manages to slowly sit the skinny blonde but misses the head that slumps on her neck immediately, a movement that will cause her soreness for sure.

Without meaning to, her eyes travel down from the slumped head, jumping through the bruises adorning the white skin, down to her legs.

Jana’s eyes falling heavy on the red and white stains on her thighs. With a quick shake of the head she diverts her gaze, preferring to ignore them completely.

“I thought you weren’t back for another three weeks, Jana,” calls a voice.

Diaz Cartel slouches against the opened door of his room, arms crossed in front of his chest. A small smile shows his front teeth cutely as he just watches the crushing scene, unbothered.

“I see you’ve met my Althea. Isn’t she the most beautiful creature you have every seen?”

As if on cue, at the sound of her name, the blonde stretches a weak arm in front of her, head still hanging but now her eyes are shut closed. Like a well trained dog waiting to be guided.

“Look at you, Althea. There’s blood all over your face.”

Diaz walks over to the younger, ignoring Jana who is still behind Althea holding her up with an arm around her shoulders.

Forcing the head of the blonde up, his hand strokes the dried blood with his thumb, travelling all the way to the lips he could never get enough of.

It was such a pity the upper lip had broken since he told Althea many times he hated when she muffled the sounds when she was being fucked and she didn’t listen forcing Diaz to make her keep her lips open.

Once he had bitten his upper lip, the blonde stopped closing her mouth, unable to do so because of the pain.

A small sob leaves Althea’s mouth unwillingly and she puts her free hand over her aching lips to quiet any further sounds, breaking Jana’s heart.

Diaz takes Althea’s floating hand, pulling her gently towards him.

The oldest decides that is enough.

Jana stands up tall mustering her courage to raise a hand and slap Diaz full on the face.

The brunette unhands the blonde to bring a hand to his pained cheek, utterly shocked.

“Stop it!” Is all she can say, throat constricted by unshed tears.

Althea’s head shoots straight up, eyes round in surprise and fear meeting the brown haired angry ones. She knows Diaz is worse when he is mad.

In a terrified moment, Althea musters all the strength she has left, ignoring the pain on her lower back and rear, and jumps out of the bed straight to the wardrobe where she hides behind the coats in a dark corner.

Jana is confused for a second by the sudden movement of the blonde, running for her life like a frighten animal, however, she snaps out of it to slap Diaz again.

This time Diaz grabs her wrist, avoiding the impact.

“What the fuck, Jana. What the hell was that for?!”

“Yeah, what the fuck! That is my line! What the fuck are you doing to that girl?!”

“Whatever the fuck I want to because she is mine!”

“SHE IS NOT YOURS. SHE IS A PERSON, DIAZ!!. YOU DON’T OWN HER LIKE YOU DO AN OBJECT. SHE IS NOT A FUCKING OBJECT FOR YOUR SICK FANTASIES. YOU DO NOT OWN HER!!.”

“YES I DO.” Diaz yelled back at his brother’s wife angrily. “I OWN EVERY INCH OF HER. I PAID FOR HER.”

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TBC

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