I didn't see it coming, didn't realize how different everything would be within the space of a month. I would fall in love with one man, I would kill another, and I would lose my body, my mind, my soul - my freedom to them. I was an operative, a strong woman, someone sent in to save others, but under these two men I became weak - or pretended to be. I didn't like being weak, it angered me. If I had free rein I could cut my masters in two. But I wasn't there for pride, I was there to free those women and to take down the two men who sold them as sex slaves.
Those men needed to be punished
And I would do it
No matter the cost
Or how much I lost
Because I am Rita Kovak
MY MASTERS' NIGHTMARE
This is the collection for a mafia series that has had success both in English and Italian. Please check it out on Amazon.com, Amazon.it and Goodreads.
1
FRANO
I tapped away at my computer, emailing the Arab that he would have his shipment of slaves by Monday. He had paid ten million for ten women and one eunuch. It was a cheaper rate than usual, but one I was satisfied with, considering my famiglia didn’t have to train these slaves. All of the human cargo had come from the House of Whores, a place I now owned, and I would dare the Donatelli to say otherwise.
I pressed send, then pushed up from my desk and headed out of my office, nodding at the burly guard standing by my door. He was one of the many soldiers protecting my house, a personal bodyguard given to me by my good friend Pedro Landi. Ever since I had destroyed the Donatelli household four days ago, I had stepped up security, making my home into a fortress, one that was impenetrable. Four of the top men from the Dontatelli famiglia were still roaming free, and no doubt waiting for the perfect opportunity to take revenge on me for what I had done. But unlike the last time they had attacked me, I was ready, those bastards now dead men walking.
I quickly crossed the dining-room floor, not wanting to look at the spot where I had lost my soul. The bloodstained rug by the main staircase was now gone, only the painful memory remaining. My chest tightened at the thought of my brother, of what his actions had forced me to do. I could still see Alberto’s eyes staring at me in shock after I’d pulled my knife from his stomach. Although killing him had been justified, it still hurt beyond description. I may not have had a choice—no, I did. I had killed him for what he’d done to our cousin. He’d raped and brutalized Jagger, leaving him a ghost of his former self.
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Maria Lidia Lima
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