Chapter 4 Joanna

Joanna cried out, her body tensing around Miquel's as he began to thrust, his movements slow and deliberate.

His hands moved over her body, exploring her curves, his touch rough and possessive.

"You're so tight," he growled, his teeth grazing her shoulder.

"So perfect! So mine!" He gritted.

Joanna whimpered, her body arching as Miquel's pace quickened, his thrusts growing harder, deeper.

He wrapped a hand around her throat, his grip firm but not tight, his eyes fixed on hers as he claimed her.

His thrusts grew more frantic as his pleasure built.

Joanna's eyes fluttered closed, her body surrendering to his touch, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps as he took her over the edge.

Miquel's fingers dug into her skin as he climaxed, his body trembling as he filled her with his seed.

Once he was done, Miquel moved away from Joanna's body as if repulsed, the expression of desire on his face quickly replaced by one of disgust.

He wiped himself clean, his movements swift and efficient, and without a single glance in Joanna's direction, he strode out of the room, leaving her lying alone on the bed.

Joanna lay there, her body still shaking from the encounter, her mind reeling as she processed what had just happened.

She felt dirty and used, like a piece of trash that had been discarded without a second thought.

Joanna stared up at the ceiling, her eyes tracing the ornate plasterwork that hung overhead.

She could still feel Miquel's touch on her skin, his fingers digging into her flesh as he had claimed her as his own.

Tears stung her eyes, and she squeezed them shut, trying to block out the memory of what had just happened.

But it was no use; the feeling of helplessness and despair was too strong, and she felt as though she might drown in it.

She remained there for what felt like an eternity, her mind still spinning from the events.

The room was silent save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the bedside table, its steady beat a constant reminder of the passage of time.

As the minutes ticked by, Joanna's tears finally dried up, her eyes red and swollen from the ordeal.

She rolled over onto her side, pulling the blanket up over her body as she curled into a tight ball.

Miquel arrived at his usual hangout spot, where his best friend, Gio, was already waiting.

They greeted each other with a firm handshake and exchanged a knowing glance.

"So, how did it go?" Gio finally asked, taking a swig from his beer.

"I assume she's officially 'yours' now, right?" Gio added, with a small smile playing on his lips.

Miquel smirked, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Oh, she's mine alright."

"Did she give you any trouble?" Gio asked, his expression curious. He wanted to know the full details of what happened between the couples.

Miquel shook his head.

"She was scared and weak, just like I knew she would be. But, she's mine now. I'll break her soon enough." Miguel said with an evil glint in his eyes.

Gio raised an eyebrow. "Break her, huh? Well, just don't forget she's kind of valuable to us. You're going to need her for the upcoming deal with the Moretti family." Gio said and took a sip from his glass.

Miquel nodded, his jaw clenched. "Hmm,I know."

"Still," Gio continued, swirling the amber liquid in his glass,

"I can't help but wonder if there might be more to this girl than meets the eye. We both know her father was a shrewd businessman, and his debts to us weren't insignificant. Maybe she's hiding something valuable that could benefit our organization."

"Don't you think so?" Gio inquired, staring intensely at Miguel.

Miquel's gaze hardened at the suggestion.

"Maybe, but I'm not going to get my hands dirty trying to extract information from a girl like her. I'll use her for what I need, and then dispose of her whenever I'm done!" Miguel gritted out, staring into space.

"Her value to us extends beyond what she can tell us," Gio reminded him.

"She's a valuable bargaining chip with the Moretti family. They respect strength, and having a beautiful, young wife shows that you're in control. And if it doesn't work out, well, let's just say I wouldn't mind 'disposing' of her myself." Gio sternly said and finished the last of his drink and slammed the glass down on the table, a malicious grin on his face.

Miquel's eyes narrowed, contemplating Gio's words and a sudden frown appeared on his face.

"She's my wife, Gio," Miquel growled, his voice laced with warning. "I don't need your permission to decide when she's no longer useful to me."

Gio held up his hands in a show of mock surrender.

"Fine, fine, she's your wife. But let's not forget that in this business, there are no guarantees, even for a boss like you. Just remember that I have your back, and I'll be here when you need me."

Miquel scoffed and took a sip from his glass, slammed it on the table and stood up.

"I'm heading to my dungeon, are you coming along?" He asked, staring down at Gio who was a bit shocked from the sound that erupted from Miguel's glass.

Gio chuckled, "You're weird, man!" He uttered and stood up. "I'm definitely coming along," he added.

The duo got into their various cars and drove off to the dungeon location.

The moment Miguel's Rolls Royce rolled to a stop, his hefty men assembled before him while one of them pulled the door open for him to get down.

Miguel got down from his car, his brows knitted together as he stood before his men with Gio beside him.

"Where's that dimwit?" Miguel asked, his voice as cold as ice.

One of the hefty men who seemed to be in charge of the others, walked forward with his head bowed in respect.

"He is tied up inside as instructed, Boss"

"Take me to him!" Miguel ordered.