Pussy.

***
Sinister's POV (daddy)

"I'm going to fucking slit your throat." The words flew out of my mouth so easily, almost as if I was saying hello, or good morning.

The mans eyes watered over, his entire body shook with the realization.

I was currently having a "friendly" interaction with an American scum bag, a man who was apart of the mob that took Calla.

I had never felt this kind of rage before. When I had to leave Calla, I only felt pain and sorrow. When she was gone, I only felt searing deprivation. But now...I only felt the rush of rage, and the drowning waters of rage.

The man who I currently had strapped down, was pathetic.

When I recieved word from Afanas that Calla had broken Omertà and left, I flew to Miami to see her, only to find out that she and Sebastian had been taken.

The town that we had last traced them to was run by American organized crime. The filth and scum of Americans reeked as my mob raided the town.

We had found nothing. Only a few men with the markings of the American Mafia...

"TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!" I roared my voice screamed a thousand murders.

The man let out a pathetic sob, his swollen eyes leaked tears as he began to pray.

I let out a humorless laugh, "Not even God can save you now."

I found it almost funny, how men, even in the face of death, will pray for God to save them. It was humorous, God does not save men like me. God does not save men like him.

"Where the fuck is my wife?" My voice shook with the rage of loss.

When you lose someone, you try to remember the last time you saw them. And most of the time it's a blurry memory, because at that time, you had no idea it would be the last.

I thought I'd see her again, even if it was in a simple passing. I thought I'd see my beautiful flower again. I left to keep her safe. And now all all I have is hope. Hope is the most important thing in the world. I believe that now more than ever. Hope is what saved my life. Hope gave me the strength to save Callas life. Hope...it's that unshakable golden belief that things will get better. The hope of being with my flower, is the thing that pushes me every day to save her.

I let her go, because I knew she deserved better. I knew she needed the life she always deserved. And now that she's gone...I wonder if I should have just been better.

"P-please...Mr. V-Velkov, I have children..."

My attention was forced back to the pathetic man sobbing in front of me. I will torture him in every merciless way possible, I will make his eyes bleed from his tears of desperation, I will rip him limb from limb.

The Devil himself would burn hell to the ground.

I will find Calla, and bring her back to me.

Calla's POV:

"You look like a fucking Walrus."

The woman doing my makeup ignored me. I'd punch her if my arms weren't restrained behind my back. I kept biting her, so these fuckers tied me down. Two men were standing guard behind me, making sure I didn't attempt another homicide.

I couldn't believe this was happening to me, It made me feel completely and utterly useless. Ever since I had been sold to the Russian Mafia, I had been fighting the term "prostitute". It seemed to be a name tag that was permanently stapled to my fucking forehead.

And now? I felt like a fucking object. I was being held by fucking American scum, and I would destroy them, even if it killed me.

"If you touch my face one more time, I'll set you on fire." I spat at the woman who seemed completely focused on painting my face with makeup.

The bitch ignored me.

I was keeping my Russian accent hidden, even though they were Americans, I felt the need to hide my nationality in case understanding Russian ever came in handy.

I looked in the mirror and cringed. I was dressed in red laced lingerie, my lips were painted a blood red color. I suppose that's a good thing, because when I bite someones gentiles off, the blood wont show up. Score.

"Why are you dressing me up anyways?" I questioned, my hands pulling at the duct tape that restrained me.

The silver hair woman finally acknowledged me, she glanced up at me, almost as though she finally noticed I was a human being who was speaking to her.

"The escort auctions." she said plainly, almost as though it was the simplest thing on earth.

What the fuck?

"What the dick is an escort auction?" My voice was laced with confusion.

She picked up a make up brush and began dusting my face, "It's exactly what it sounds like. You'll be auctioned off to be someone's escort."

My face twisted with disgust, what on god's green earth is an escort.

If I'm being "purchased " to fuck and suck, why do I need to be dressed like a Satan barbie?

"Mother Teresa, if you pluck one more eyebrow, I will shove a brick up your vagina." My eyes watered at the intense eyebrow makeover.

Do not touch my baby eyebrows. They are my pride and joy. She seemed not to be comprehending the severity of my threats; I meant every word.

I glanced back up in the mirror, and thanked lord Jesus that my eyebrows still looked good.

"Done." The woman said, motioning to the guards behind me. I felt the pull of the duct tape on my wrists as they untied me.

The second I felt myself go free, I spun around to punch one of the goons in the face, but to no avail; he caught my skinny arms with one hand, and pinned them behind my back.

"Take her to the auctions." The woman demanded, as she started cleaning up the counter.

"don't tell them what do to Shrek!!" I yelled at her as the men dragged me out of the room, pulling me down a long, and nasty smelling room.

I pulled against the men, both of them held one arm each in an iron grip, but I guess I'm a pussy, because they weren't budging.

"Hey, assholes, what the fuck is an escort auction?"

The man to my left sighed, "It's an auction for an...event, every man that goes needs an escort." The man said plainly as we stopped outside of a large door.

He knocked 3 times, before the door creaked open, and they pushed me inside.

What lay before me, was a major shock. Women, no, prostitutes surrounded the massive room. All dressed in various colors of lingerie, their faces were painted with heavy makeup. There had to be at least 100 women, all of them standing in the bright florescent lights. There was a massive wall of glass, facing opposite to where all of the women stood.

I guessed that it was one-way glass, considering all that could be seen beyond it, was our own reflection.

This wasn't like the auction I had been first sold to. This was a competition.

The women were all beautiful, their makeup was done to perfection, their hair glistened against the harsh lights.

I had a very bad feeling about this. And all I wanted was Sinister, my beautiful husband. The man that kept me up every night. The man that gave me that tight, sobbing feeling in my throat.

I don't think anyone would ever be able to understand the love I felt for him; It was complicated.

He was the Devil, but he was beautiful. He showed me the kind of love, that I thought was only in fairy tales.

I had finally known the kind of love that was worth risking everything for, the kind of love that was as rare as a glimpse of heaven.

People always think that the Devil doesn't belong in heaven, that all the Devil will ever know, is fire and darkness.

But I am fire, and I will burn everything. The Devil is real. And he is not a little red man with horns and a tail. He is beautiful. Because he is a fallen angel, he has shown me the love as pure as heaven.

I will have him in my arms again. No matter what I have to do.

***

Working on another update now, currently listening to Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd

Who's your favorite artist/band ??