Blackmailed to the Altar (Caputo Crime Family #2)

2. Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

D r. Mya Rivers

United States

“No, you’re making it sound like you are a superhero,” I laughed.

My long-time friend, and little from my sorority days back in college, Nina Torres, sat across from me in my office. It had taken some time to get established on this campus, but now the school trusted me implicitly.

“I’m not saying I need a cape, I’m just telling you, I’m sponsoring one girl from Alpha Kappa Nocturne, and she is wild.” She dragged a hand through her blonde locks. “ Eso es lo que hay .” She waved a small hand in front of her face.

“I don’t know what that means, chiquita.” I smirked.

Nina was always teaching me new phrases in Spanish. I just didn’t have the best affinity for the language myself. Being a military brat, we moved around a ton, until that fateful day I’d been thrown away by my progenitors. A flash of the dark hole I’d been thrown into as a child floated across my mind, but I breathed out slowly.

“It means ‘it is what it is’.” We shared a fond smile as I took notice of Nina’s outfit today, the loud colors keeping me calm. I searched for something else to focus on, as the scent of dankness from the past smothered me in the present.

I looked at the time. I needed Nina to get out of my office on time so I could break down alone. What could I smell? Nina’s perfume filled the air as she moved her box braids over her shoulder.

“Our time is almost up, let’s get back to the problem at hand.” I blew out a sigh, ready to hit her with reality. “You need to get real with yourself. What’s really going on in that head of yours?” I tried to shake off the past and focus on her here and now.

“It’s like, no matter what I do, nothing is there.” Nina folded her arms over her chest in a huff. “I’ve dated. I’ve put myself out there, but nada.”

My therapist cap was on. “So this isn’t just about searching for a guy.” I was getting to the root of her issue. She wasn’t broken like she said every session she had with me. She just wasn’t connecting with potential dates.

“No, my heart is on airplane mode, and I can’t just share my body with anyone. It’s my first time, and while I shouldn’t want it to be special at my age, shouldn’t it?”

I tilted my head, considering her words. “Have you ever thought it’s less about the guys, and more about how you feel about yourself?”

“Ugh, don’t go too psychoanalysis on me, Dr. Mya . I’m already a basket case without you peeling back the layers of my messed-up psyche.”

I held up a placating hand, realizing I’d unintentionally touched a nerve. “Let’s stop here for today. You still have to get ready for your date.”

Nina blew out a sigh of relief, which let me know I was making the right decision to end early. “Same time next week?”

I nodded, walking her out. “Of course. Call me after your date and let me know how it went.”

“I will. See you later, Big.” She gave me a small hug.

“After a while, Little.” I watched as she walked out of the door, leaning against the wall. As soon as she was out of view, I let go of a shaky breath.

I’d known Nina for a long time, and while she was older than me, our situation was unique. We met at Alpha Kappa Nocturne, when she was rushing as an undergrad. I became her mentor, and through that we forged a bond like no other, despite our slight age difference. Now she was the house mother to our sorority, and I couldn’t be prouder.

I hoped she found what she was looking for. There was no drug on Earth that could help Nina feel the connection she was searching for with a man. At first, I thought she was looking at the wrong gender, but that’s not the case.

She could not be intimate with a partner.

Like Nina, I wasn’t able to reach an intimate level of trust with a partner. I may be a genius to some, but I still felt like that little girl strapped down to the bed, screaming for help, sometimes. My progenitors dumped me with him for almost a year, before they dragged me back into the light, and accelerated classes. With tutors, and no sleep, I was able to rise to the top at an early age and get into an excellent college. The blood money they received, a price I paid with my virginity, helped too.

I sank to the floor and let go of all the negative images that had been pulled out of the box in the back of my mind. A few tears leaked out as I shuddered through the dark memories of my childhood. I was labeled as crazy when I tried to speak out, and couldn’t tolerate being intimate with someone that would turn on me for my past in a moment.

I calmed my breathing, until I only had small hiccups left in between breaths. Men couldn’t be trusted. All they did was use and abuse. Just like him. That was why my programs were geared toward broken men who the system let slip through the cracks. Pedophiles and abusers, those that shouldn’t see the light of day.

I prevented them from reoffending with my concoctions, and I couldn’t have another breakdown. I had to be strong. I was, I knew I was, but sometimes I felt brittle. I shook it off, finished my box breathing, and got my ass in gear.

As I packed up my bag, ready to head out, I waved to some of the staff from the university. Many were gone for the day, and the sun had already sunk below the horizon. I hated leaving at this time of night, but my new office wasn’t finished being built yet, so I made do with what the university offered me.

I cursed myself as I reached the parking garage. My feet hurt from the painful heels I was wearing, and the elevators in the garage itself were being worked on, so I couldn’t use them. I made my way up the stairs. This wasn’t the worst thing I’d been through. I’d been sold at a young age for profit. My progenitors abandoned me for almost a year, until they had the bright idea to use me as a cash cow in the media. As their only genius child, I raked a ton of money in for the family once I started making magazine covers. My brain saved me from that hellhole. I was a survivor. Stairs wouldn’t beat me tonight, even though I struggled up them.

This hadn’t seemed so bad this morning when I was all pepped up on coffee. But now that it was the end of the day, my twenty-seven year old knees couldn’t hang. I panted slowly up the steps from hell.

When I reached the fourth landing pad, I grabbed my purse. Fuck this. I needed something to power me through the rest of the stairs. I slipped in one ear bud, so I was aware of my surroundings, and hit my workout playlist. Bodies by Drowning Pool blasted, and I hobbled my way up the rest of the flights.

I thanked every god in existence when I reached the top, the sound of Miserable At Best by Mayday Parade bringing my entire existence down. I couldn’t help myself, though. Something about music from the early 2000s brought back nostalgic memories.

A picture of a younger me, screaming into the abyss, came through. I closed my eyes, and shoved the memory of that time into the box in the back of my mind. It held some of my darkest memories. Times I’ve tried hard to suppress.

I shivered from the cool air as I walked, spotting my car in the distance. It was almost alone, but I saw a van a few spots down, and that terrified me a bit, but then I remembered the ‘not all men’ lecture I gave a few months ago, and I tried to turn my fear into relief. I would’ve had security escort me, if I’d remembered how deserted it was going to be. After that serial killer, the campus was a lot tighter on security measures, but I should’ve been more careful.

The flapping sound of plastic from beside me caused me to jump. I guess they had some of the structure sectioned off with these really creepy plastic tarps. It was giving Dexter vibes, and I should’ve paid to park on the street.

I grumbled to myself as I searched through my large purse for my keys. I had so much on my mind, I’d forgotten to grab them, when I pulled out my earbud to listen to music. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. It felt like eyes were on me. I paused in my search, standing in place, looking at the wall of plastic I had to walk by in order to get to my car.

I didn’t see any shadows or anything, although the overhead lights cast a pale, sickly hue on the plastic. I rummaged to the bottom of my purse when I heard the rattling of my keys.

“Yes!” I gripped them in my hand and raised them into the air like a fist pump. Phew!

Feeling a lot less terrified, I happily headed to my car. Nina was always telling me to fix my key ring. It was old, and fell constantly, because I had my house keys and office keys on the same small ring. The weight alone had me constantly running around searching for my key ring.

Maybe if I’d listened to my friend, I wouldn’t have watched my key ring dropping to the dirty ground of the parking garage. If I’d been more sensible like Nina, I would’ve had someone walk me to my car.

As I bent down to retrieve my key ring, giggling a bit at the absurdity of this day, a crinkling sound echoed in the silence. I was startled and looked at the tarps to my right.

A dark silhouette of a man stood in the center, with his head tilted slightly. Terrified, I shrieked, swooping my keys off the ground and stumbling to a run, but unfortunately, I wasn’t wearing sneakers.

I fell to my knees, scraping them, and grabbed one in horror, blood smeared on my hands. I couldn’t stop. I got back up and took off, leaving my shoes behind, uncaring of the rocks digging in. I limp-ran as fast as I could. After what happened on this campus last year, I wasn’t getting snatched by a madman.

In all my years, I hadn’t run as hard as I did tonight.

I reached my car, tears blinding me, and my hands shaking, as I tried to unlock the driver’s side. I cursed myself for not upgrading my vehicle, and keeping this old 2008 Miata. A collector’s edition. Yes, I could’ve hit the button and unlocked the car, but in my panic, I was blinded.

If I didn’t get away, I would be at his mercy.

As I stuck the key into the lock, my trembling got the better of me, and they dropped to the ground. With a loud sob, I tried to grab them, my heart pounding in my throat. I didn’t dare look behind me.

When I stood, I could feel his breath behind me. “No,” I cried, trying in vain to get my door open.

In my frenzy, I pulled on the handle, even though I knew it was still locked. My would-be kidnapper wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me into his body. I shuddered in fear, as a leather gloved hand slid up my torso and covered my mouth, smothering my screams.

“Night, night, little firecracker,” a deep voice growled behind me.

All I felt was a small pinch, the hint of smoke, and then I knew no more.

Italy

The throbbing in my skull forced my bleary eyes open. I tried to groan and move out of my bed, but I couldn’t. Struggling against my blankets, I wiggled my fingers down by my sides, hoping to pull them off, but my hand connected with a thick, abrasive material.

I ran my fingers around the fibers. Was this rope? Where was I? How did I get here?

My eyes were wide open, but it was pitch black, a dull rumbling beneath my back. I was in a moving vehicle. That man. That complete asshole of a creepy dude, who was waiting like a weirdo, stole me.

He had to have.

There was no other reason for him to have been standing there. Did he know about the rehabilitation program? Was this some type of retaliation for the evil deeds I’d done?

It couldn’t be. My heart raced as I tried to find a way out of my binds. When that didn’t work, I opened my mouth to scream.

That idiot hadn’t slapped duct tape over my mouth to keep me quiet. I would have, if it were me, but I wasn’t asked about how I wanted to be kidnapped, so picking apart all his mistakes made sense.

“HELP ME!” I tried kicking the trunk over and over, screaming this phrase until I felt like I was growing hoarse.

Just when I thought my voice would give out, the car slowed down, and I could hear the sound of a European police or an ambulance. Something. It didn’t sound like it did in the states.

The car stopped, and I heard two doors closing, then small footsteps. As soon as they got close to the trunk, I started screaming all over again.

“PLEASE! GOD, PLEASE, HELP ME. I’VE BEEN KIDNAPPED.” I coughed from the force of my cries.

A calm conversation in Italian happened. I’d done the Bodies For Change program when I went to University, and knew the language well because of it. I tried to listen, but grew more and more despondent when there was no yelling. No one was removed from the car. When the voices started laughing, I knew nothing was going to happen. These officers, or whoever they were, would not help me.

The car took off after some more enthusiastic talking. The assholes even tapped the hood of it, to let the driver know they were allowed to move on. I sat in the trunk, wondering how much power my kidnapper wielded.

I didn’t scream again. It seemed a waste of my energy, and I didn’t want my kidnappers to get sick of me and kill me. I was in a different country. I was almost certain it was Italy, from the bits of conversation I’d picked up, and the siren of the car.

I had no resources other than the American Embassy, and they weren’t well known for helping black women in distress. That’s what all my social media said, and while I was a scholar, I had a sick obsession with watching what people posted, and the silly dances.

Time went by slowly as I fell deeper into my mind. My box that I kept a lid on was wide open. A collage of my time spent in ‘the spa’, as my parents called it, grew. Before I was labeled a genius, they whispered that I was the crazy girl. My parents locked me away, and threw away the key, until it was time for them to need me. The magazines, the articles they profited from with their genius kid, but no one cared what happened behind the scenes.

Now, I’ve gone no contact; the healthiest outcome for all. Even if I had my own… habits. Things that I couldn’t help doing in order to treat my patients. If someone were to find out, could that be why I was kidnapped?

The car slowed, tires crunching over gravel. The engine cut off, and my fear grew. I held my breath as I heard the footsteps getting closer to me. The trunk opened, revealing the same stranger who was waiting for me outside of my practice.

The air was stale, thick with the faint stench of rubber and gasoline. Every bump had jostled my body against the cold, unforgiving metal, and I was bruised. I tried to orient myself, desperately blinking my surroundings into view. The moment I saw him, my breath caught in my throat. He stood there, looking every bit like he had stepped out of an old-world Italian romance. His dark hair, thick and tousled, framed a face that was nothing short of striking. Each curl seemed meticulously placed, effortlessly adding to his rugged charm.

His eyes, deep and intense, locked onto mine, sending a shiver down my spine. They were a rich brown, like melted chocolate, capable of seeing through all my defenses. The way he looked at me made me feel like I was the only person in the… trunk… as if he could read my very soul.

His face was all sharp angles and firm lines, with a jawline so chiseled it looked like Michelangelo himself could have sculpted it. A slight stubble adorned his cheeks and chin, adding a hint of ruggedness to his otherwise polished appearance. His nose was straight and perfectly proportioned, leading down to lips that were full and inviting, hinting at both strength and sensitivity.

The open collar of his white shirt revealed a glimpse of his muscular neck, and the hint of a muscular chest. A simple silver necklace hung around his neck, its pendant resting just below his collarbone, catching the light and drawing my eyes farther down.

There was an air of quiet confidence about him, a presence that was impossible to ignore. He seemed completely at ease, yet there was an underlying intensity, a smoldering fire that hinted at a deeper, more complex persona. As he stood there, looking at me, I couldn’t help but feel a magnetic pull, an irresistible urge to get closer, to learn more about the man behind those captivating eyes.

I squeezed my eyes shut. My heart thudded painfully in my chest, erratic and desperate.

“Hello, firecracker.” He smirked at me.

“W-who are y-you?” My hoarse voice cracked from the misuse during the terrifying drive.

“Your worst nightmare.” He leaned forward and scooped me out of the trunk. He wore gloves, which made his crimes feel more real.

“L-let me go,” I demanded, trying to hide my fear, my voice steady despite the tremor threatening to crack through.

He leaned in, his face uncomfortably close to my own, and his expression shifting from amused to something darker, something possessive. “That will not happen. You and I have unfinished business.”

“Unfinished business?” I scoffed, trying to ignore the tightening fear in my chest. “I’m a psychiatrist, a doctor, not some plaything. This,” I motioned to the ropes binding me in his arms, then motioned to the trunk, and everything else, “is literally insane.”

“Insanity.” He chuckled, the sound low and sinister, sending a chill down my spine. “Funny coming from a psychiatrist. Maybe you can help me with that.”

He was unpredictable, and until I knew more about my situation, I couldn’t anger him. His aura held a dangerous quality about it. He carried me bridal style into an enormous villa. I couldn’t see the property, but I saw the men walking out and about with their guns.

His white top stood stark against the night sky. Peeking out from the collar of his crisp white button-down shirt, just above the first undone button, were jagged patches of scarred skin, remnants of what looked like second-degree burns. They were old, the redness faded to a dull pink, but the texture was unmistakable—raised and uneven. My eyes traced the edges of the scars where they disappeared back under his shirt, the skin puckering slightly as if still healing in places. I wondered briefly how he got them. Was that the reason for his gloved hands as well? I wasn’t going to ask my kidnapper anything though. I needed some answers on where I was and how I got here.

I tried protesting once more. “You think this is going to go the way you want, but it won’t. You think taking me is going to help you? You, sir, are diabolical.”

I looked up into his eyes, but there was no sign of change, no remorse. He didn’t answer right away, just watched me with his calculating eyes as he carted me off. “So sure of yourself, Dr. Rivers. But the games haven’t even begun.”

I clamped my mouth closed, not wanting to antagonize him further. I swallowed hard, my mind racing for an angle, any angle. I needed to stay sharp. To try to get inside his head before he fucked with mine. If games were something he wanted to play, then he could bring it the fuck on.

I was an original Philadelphia woman who got matched in Virginia, and these men who looked like soldiers, young soldiers, were mafia. A group I thought had been eradicated from the world a long time ago.

With the way the government ran, CCTV surveillance in many countries, and the advancement of technology, I figured organized crime was more of a fairy tale. A cautionary story to tell young women in the hood, so that we would choose a better life for ourselves.

Apparently, my mama steered me wrong.

He carried me over the threshold like I was his new bride.

“Welcome home,” he announced, causing all the servants to stop in their places and watch him.

I couldn’t help looking at the ceiling in awe. Huge murals of battles and angels were splattered across the ceilings. Chandeliers that seemed to be made of genuine diamonds sparkled in the center of the room.

Amazing.

I tried to focus on the layout, but the different mural depictions on the ceilings tore away my attention each time. One showed what looked like gladiators fighting an enormous giant, a goliath swinging his trunk arms, sweeping them all to the floor.

Another room held cherubs in the clouds, hiding and giggling.

The last showed a king on a throne, who held a lot of similarities to the man carrying me right now. My kidnapper in question laid me down on a bed, and I stopped looking at the ceiling to glare at him.

I had to look at him like a patient. Get him to open up to me. Only then would I learn his true purposes for me. I could get out of this situation once I had all of the facts in front of me.

I drew in a big breath and sat up slowly, keeping a wary eye on my captor.

“You need help, alright. But this? This isn’t it. Let me go now, and we can still work through whatever delusions you’re harboring.”

The man stared at me for a long moment, his gaze burning into mine. I could feel the weight of his scrutiny, the twisted interest simmering just beneath his cool exterior. Surely, someone in his life asked how he was doing and checked in on his wellbeing? He couldn’t be running rampant and unchecked.

He ran a gloved thumb along the edge of the rope, thoughtfully. His touch was almost gentle, but laced with a threat.

He leaned in to whisper in my ear. “We’ll see how long your confidence lasts, Dr. Rivers. Then you’ll see who is really in control.”

I shivered, not wanting to engage with him further, but I didn’t have a choice, not if I wanted to be let go, and I wanted to get back home. I didn’t want to be under the thumb of someone I thought may be a natural born psychopath.

“Well, while you wait to see who is in control between us, why don’t you book a wellness visit with your local therapist. I am certain they would want to help you with your kidnapping tendencies.” I waited. I folded my arms and gave him my most serene smile. Another day in the office, helping someone who clearly has had no kind of mental health support for years. I mean, he kidnapped me, for fuck’s sake.

“If you’d answered my brother back, I wouldn’t have needed to do all of this,” he growled, but I thought I saw the lie flash in his eyes.

My eyes widened in shock, but that was the only portrayal of my true feelings. How dare he blame me for his choices? I had to chill. Maybe he didn’t know about the programs. He didn’t know what I’d done.

Internally, I wasn’t as nice as I seemed. I was a fraud. A fake persona of everything I thought a psychiatrist would be. But inside, deep in my soul, I should be one of my own patients. I was inherently broken. I should have been kept in a dark prison for the rest of my life. But a monster like me was given a second chance, and I wasn’t afraid of some fake mafia bullshit. At least, I hoped I didn’t look afraid. ‘Fake it until I make it’ was the best motto.

“And your brother is?” I led with a murmur, trying not to set him off.

“Silas Caputo.”

I narrowed my eyes. The name sounded familiar. “You mean the man who wanted me to halt all of my pro bono programming to come to Italy, and take care of his wife full time? That crazy man!”

I had two big pro bono programs I ran at the moment. My prison reform, and my college health matters, free programs for those in need. I’d been working at the prison for years, and even had my office, along with separate accommodations, at the college. One day, I’d have my practice as well. A place to settle my head permanently, but for now, I was happy with what I had. It worked because they didn’t have the funds from the government to afford me.

He cleared his throat, distracting me with his Adam’s apple. “This is a delicate matter. It isn’t something she can continue with her online treatment. She isn’t telling you the truth of it all.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What does that mean? How do you even know that? That is… that’s a breach of privacy, and breaks a slew of code of ethics laws.” I couldn’t believe he had the audacity. I broke through my persona angrily. “You had no right.”

“I had every right when it put my family in danger,” he corrected, his eyes flashing darkly.

“What do you mean?” I probed, trying to get back on track, but he was leaning forward in my space, scaring me. “W-what a-are y-you doing?” I gasped, when he pulled a knife out of its sheath on his side.

He swung it toward me, and I closed my eyes, wondering if this would be the end. When I didn’t take my last breath, I opened my eyes again, and saw him cutting the ropes off my body. It didn’t take too long for him to tower over me again.

“Get some rest, firecracker,” he smirked. Then he spun on his heel and left me alone.

I heard the lock click ominously in the still night.