Married Into The Mafia *Undergoing Re-editing*

Trust Me

A/N: This chapter contains RAPE and SEXUAL ASSAULT.

--Ashton--

I drew in, feeling the smoke funnel its way down through my throat and into my lungs, my body absorbing all the drugs it carried. It was the only thing that helped me calm down for situations like this. The only thing that made things around me go quiet, so I could finally think.

That, along with the beautiful view of the city's mystical night outside my office window. They helped drown away the noise. The noise of the grunts and coughs and cries behind me. I had heard the same old sounds before and I didn't want it to ruin the mood for my visit to the hospital tonight – the hospital Eloise was admitted to. They had told me about half an hour ago that she had finally awoken.

She was out for less time than I thought – only one day was a miracle. 

The molten rage I felt when I saw her laying on that bed was unparallel to anything I've felt before. I couldn't believe I was going to lose her right after I had finally gotten a hold of her.

Those fuckers really did a number on her...

We searched the warehouse she was in for any evidence and managed to catch the two guys that tortured her – they're getting some extra special treatment right now. Unfortunately, nothing too obvious led to who it might've been. We knew it was an illegal weapon supply storage warehouse, but nothing pointed to who owned it. Except a tattoo we found after searching those twats.

I pushed the smoke out, a line of it trailing out of my mouth and into a cloud that formed above my head.

I stared at it with tired eyes, wanting to close them and lull my mind to sleep. But, I couldn't. Not until I figure out which fucking group decided to fuck with me. To fuck with my fiancé. 

I sighed, a deep growl rippling through my chest as I did. I swerved my chair so that it faced the group of battered men in front of me. My eyes scanned through their disfigured faces: swollen, bruised and splattered with dribbles of blood and sweat. They still managed to have trace of defiance in the eyes, despite what I've put them through. That won't last long though.

I took another long drag from my cigar and rested back on my black leather chair.

"Gentleman..." I softly began. I was met with some swears, but my men quickly shut them up with a kick to the solar plexuses. I calmly continued, "I am aware that you are men of loyalty. Loyalty to your group, loyalty to your boss. So, I believe that if a good beating will not convince you, nothing I say will either." They looked on in nervous curiosity. My eyes moved to the bodyguard by the door as a signal and he nodded, touching his earpiece and speaking some words into it.

A chorus of feminine yelps resounded outside, bringing everyone's attention to the door behind them. It swung open, revealing a group of middle-aged women being roughly man-handled and shoved into the room by an unkept and unprofessional gang of men – my lowest section of subordinates; common street gangs that liked to lick my feet for some good money.

There was a shared reaction of horror, aghast and terror between the men and the women I had captive, each looking directly at someone else. I cleared my throat, knowing that the room will soon dissolve into chaos, and guided their attention back to me.

"Gentlemen...your wives," I gestured to the women, who looked at me in bemusement to the situation. "From what I said before, I believe that there are different forms of loyalty. Of course, nothing I say will break your loyalty to your group." I nodded to one of the men holding a woman, and he licked his lips gleefully.