#danielle hammond

Next to his body, his cellphone vibrates once. It must've slid out of his pocket. New message. Leo. 

Ridley Lordin is dead, but Leonardo Luciano is still alive.

My head is spinning. There's only one thing I know. I have to leave the city before he finds out.

I step forward. The carpet is sticky. Mingled in his beloved 80s rock music are the smacking sounds of my steps. 

I take his wrist, pausing as my gaze falls on our hands. His wedding band next to mine, his perfect skin next to the scars crossing the back of my hand. "Fuck you," I whisper, repeat the last words I said to him. Probably the first ones, too.

I almost have to laugh, even though I don't know why. Nothing of this is funny. Still, it feels ridiculous.

I place his thumb on the phone's sensor to unlock it. 

Love you. Looking forward to date night. I'll text you when I leave here. Special project needing a little more attention tonight.

Date night. Tonight. Here.

There's even less time than I hoped. 

Without another glance at my husband, I walk into the office, leaving a trail of bloody footprints. I don't bother. Leo will know everything, anyway.

I know the layout of Ridley's office by heart. I've spent countless hours on his lap, even more crammed under his desk, keeping him warm. I know where he keeps his laptop, his paper files, his special thumb drives. I pack them all, throw them into a large briefcase. 

There's a stack of bills in his safe, less than I hoped, but it'll do for a start. I add it to the pile. I also know his credit card pin. I'll be able to get more.

Ridley's phone vibrates again. A photo. Leo's  special project, in what must be excruciating pain.

My stomach twists, as I reply with a chain of heart emojis, just as Ridley would.

I can't help her. I can't help anyone but myself.

Not even -

My gaze goes to B, sprawled over the couch, barely breathing. He's still unconscious, bleeding on his head, his arms, his chest, from the brutal blows Ridley rained down on him.

For me.

He'd punished him for me, because his wife can't have bruises in public, but his pet can. Because he knows B matters more to me than anything else.

There's a tear running down my face. I don't fight it. It's ironic. I wanted to save B, but instead I destroyed everything for him. B can't live without Ridley. He'll fall apart. He'll tear me apart, for what I did. And then, Leo will torture him to death, for his failure.

If I'm clever, if I'm quick, and with a whole portion of luck, there's a chance at freedom waiting for me, just outside.

B can never be free.

There's only one thing I can do for him.

"I love you, B," I whisper. "Thank you for everything. I... I wish it had ended differently."

I lift the gun and point it at his heart, blink back the tears.

"I'm so sorry."

I don't want to talk. I want to forget. I want to feel.

I want hands on my skin that aren't Fedir's. A hot breath in my neck that isn't Vasyklo's. A cock pressing into me, because I invited someone to. I want to be fucked by nameless, faceless men who simply find me hot, by men who will not follow me into my nightmares, who are too busy chasing their own pleasure to spent a thought on me.

I don't know how many nights I'll need to find a balance. If I ever can. How many nameless men it takes to weigh out these men with a name.

Kysil.

My scar itches under the bandage.

Kysil.

I open my eyes to peek down at the tiny purse I carry that holds little more than my phone. I know he's been trying to call me. Mykhailo Kysil. 

One of the men who hurt me.

The man who saved me.

Sometimes I hate him for it. He can live with it, go on with his life, his career, one more scar to tell one more story. I? I don't know if I will ever be able to. Myk saved my life, but whatever was left at that point - I don't believe it was worth saving. 

“Dude!” Someone bangs against the door and I jerk back. “What's taking you so long, man? I need to take a shit.”

Yeah. I almost chuckle against the thin door, before I reach down to fix my panties, straighten my dress.

With the back of my hand, I wipe my eyes. I haven't been crying, but the make up is probably smudged anyway. My looks matching my location.

I call up a confident smile before I leave the stall. The waiting guy flinches and looks me down with a frown, turning into some sort of odd appreciation.

For a second I wonder if he'd be the kind of dude just not to ask questions, but the thought passes and I walk back onto the dimly lit corridor.

I'm not in the mood.

I pull my phone out. It's vibrating in my hand as if on cue. Mykhailo, again.

Silently, I look at his caller ID picture, get lost in his blue eyes that I know all too well, for ten long seconds, until the call gets routed to mailbox. 

“I'm sorry for being such a-a desperate w-wh-whore that I needed some, something in my m-mouth. It w-won't happen again. Please d-don't let them hurt me." 

It's the fifth fucking time Lorenzo has heard that video, and every single time, Adam has laughed. "You looked so good like that, baby," he says, almost reverently. 

Lorenzo tips his head back, staring up at the concrete ceiling and the dim lighting. He's too tired to talk, he can still feel where the gun was, where his voice is raspy now. 

"Hey," Adam snaps. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, diamond boy." 

His breath catches. He can't take it if they keep calling him that. It's worse that "slut" or "whore," he can take those. But not Dany's nickname for him. 

Lorenzo turns his head to face Adam. "P-please," he croaks. "Can I h-have a towel? T-to wipe off m-my face." 

Adam smirks. "Nah, I like you better like this." 

Lorenzo wishes he could curl up and die, but he's tied to a fucking chair with nowhere to go. 

"Suck on it, slut," followed by a chorus of gagging sounds echoes through the room. 

Lorenzo twists his wrists in his restraints, but the zip ties burn as they cut into his skin. He can't take any more pain today. Or however long it's been since he was drugged and gagged here. He doesn't know, he's not allowed to see the sun. 

The door swings open and a tall, muscular man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes steps through the door. "Get him up," he says to Adam. "His wife's coming to get him." So this must be their boss. 

Adam grins and cuts the zip tie, hoisting Lorenzo to his feet. The world spins for a moment, they haven't been feeding him or giving him water. 

Lorenzo puts his hands in front of his face as much as he can. "Please d-don't hit me," he whispers. He's a coward, they all know it. He's pathetic. 

The boss ignores him, turning to Adam. "I'll walk our hostage. You go get what Hammond will need to complete our business." 

"Yes, sir," Adam says, walking away. Lorenzo is happy to see him go, but at least Adam was predictable.

He doesn't know what this new man will do to him. 

The boss handcuffs Lorenzo's hands behind his back and pushes him forward. "Keep it moving." 

Lorenzo bites his tongue and obeys, tears and drool dried on his face, still in his apron and collar and underwear. He doesn't want this, he can't do this anymore.

The boss forces him to his knees, just five yards from a desk. "You'll see your wife any minute now, pet," he coos, running his hand through Lorenzo's hair. 

Pet. He hates that fucking word, seeing how he almost was one all those years ago. Dany saved him. He can only hope she'll do it again. He can only hope she'll want to do it again, even after what he just did. 

There she is, all the way across the room, wearing different clothes than he last saw her in and handcuffed but she doesn't seem hurt and his heart is a soaring, Dany, Dany, Dany over and over until he sees that she looks horrified. He wants to run to her, he knows what will happen if he tries. And maybe she doesn't want him anywhere near her. 

"Come to retrieve your plaything?" the boss calls.

"Enzo", she yells, ignoring the men, as she runs over to him. Kauffmann and the other man who entered with her don't seem to care. Her hands are tied behind her back, but she still manages to fall to her knees in front of him and press herself against him in a desperate attempt at a hug. "I'm here, I'm with you, I've got this, okay?"

Seeing her, touching her as much as he can, has his eyes brimming with tears. "I'm scared," he whispers. "I'm so s-scared."

Before she has a chance to answer, the boss yanks her up and shoves her towards the chair. "Sit down, Danielle," he says, drawing out the syllables of her first name. "Let's get down to business if you want to see your husband without a barcode on his wrist."

Dany lifts her eyes at him, gaze switching from worry to pure, unadulterated hatred. He’s never seen her like this. It’s terrifying. "You'll fucking regret pulling him into this, Ian. This business should have remained between the two of us." She sits down in the chair anyway, all but falling onto her tied hands. She doesn’t look at Lorenzo any longer, oddly focused on the other man. "I'm ready. Now, you going to uncuff me, or do you want me to dictate?" She grimaces."I can do both."

The boss—Ian’s—eyes narrow at Kauffmann. “Why’s the bitch cuffed in the first place? I know she would have come willingly, seeing how we have her little lapdog.”

Lorenzo shudders as Ian plays with a lock of his hair. Dany won’t look at him, why won’t she look at him? She must be too disgusted with how obedient and quiet and good he is. How he’s already just a pet. 

Kauffmann is holding himself awkwardly stiff, as he replies. "Bitch took a moment or two to understand who's in charge now. Tried to fight, dislocated my shoulder. Andrey popped it back in. Hurts, though."

Lorenzo can’t hide his smile. Yes, Dany. Fight back. Even though she didn’t get far, she tried. She made Kauffmann hurt. 

“Well, I guess we have to teach her a lesson, don’t we?” Ian’s hands leave Lorenzo’s hair but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t need to keep holding onto Lorenzo to keep him still, his cold voice is enough of a threat. Lorenzo feels sick to his stomach. “This isn’t a joke, Danielle. Your husband’s life is on the line here. So if you’re not a cold hearted bitch, I’d suggest following my orders.”

Ian moves quickly, placing his hands on Lorenzo’s shoulder and arm, and pushes and pulls at the same time. There’s a horrific pop and crunch and Lorenzo’s mind whites out with the overwhelming pain. 

He falls to the floor screaming, tears blurring his vision. His arm is pulled uncomfortably from the handcuffs and it hurts so bad, he’s not good at pain, he can’t do this anymore. His screams taper off into a pathetic whine and he closes his eyes. 

Kauffmann leans back casually and picks it up himself, spinning the weapon in his hands tentatively, before he points it to the framed picture on her desk. Her and Lorenzo, both laughing, on a far away beach, flowers in her hair, his shirt open a little too much. Their wedding.

The gun traces the lines of his face on the photo. "Shouldn't get married in that business of ours," he muses. "People will get hurt."

"I'll kill you", she says flatly and meets his gaze. There's a cold rage gathering in the pit of her stomach, and it feels so much better than the helpless dread from when she was watching the feed. It's just the two of them now. "You won't get away with this."

"Oh, come on." He points the gun to her face. "It was just a gun. There'll be worse if you act up, sweetheart." Kauffmann taps the nuzzle to her lower lip and she flinches. He laughs. "Personally, I'm not into obscene displays like that one, but I am pretty sure there are people out there who'd pay a good price for a pet like your husband. He obviously enjo-"

No. Her instinct is faster than her reason.

Dany grabs his wrist with one hand, her other hand on his shoulder. With a sharp snap, he lands on the ground, screaming. The gun is back in her hand, pointed between his eyes. "No," she growls.

Kauffmann is curled up on the floor, hand clenching his dislocated shoulder. Tears are forming in his eyes, his face contorted with pain. "You fucking.... bitch."

"People do get hurt," she coldly repeats his words from before. "You fucking chose this business, unlike my husband. Now you tell me what you want from me, or I swear I'll make you hurt more."

"We'll kill him," he cries. "We'll kill your pathetic -"

She places a foot on his shoulder, just lightly, and he traces off with a whine.

"Then you die, too, Kauffmann. You're here for a deal. Believe me, I'll do a fucking lot of things to make sure Lorenzo gets back to me, but you've got to know that to me, your life is as negotiable as his is to you. Now. What does your boss want?"

Kauffmann groans in pain under her foot, and however much he fucking deserves this for what his lackeys just did, Dany pulls back and steps away.

Lorenzo is still in their hands. Deep down, in a cruel, hurtful part of her, she knows there's nothing she can do. They're going to break him, regardless. She remembers the men's laughter, Lorenzo's foggy eyes, his shaking voice, the dread and despair and humiliation.

There has been a void in him that she's never seen, and that scares her like nothing else ever did.

She has to defend him. She has to protect him, not avenge him.

Fuck.

Glaring at her, Kauffmann pulls himself up on the floor to lean against the heavy wood of her desk. "You... You know what he wants." His voice is clogged with sobs, and he's fighting to steady it. "We've... talked about it. The... shipment. You will do it." His eyes narrow, an odd sight with the tears in his lashes. "Can't... can't take out the competition and not live with the... backlash. Somebody has to ship our goods."

"Your goods are... people."

Kauffmann snorts and shakes his head. "Your goods kill people. Besides, they aren't people any more. They're pets. It's even legal here."

"Legality isn't exactly the point. It's disg-"

"Princess", Kauffmann says sternly, looking at her past the gun. "We're... here to talk business, not morals. This... cargo needs to be smuggled to Europe, asap. The goods are ready, the buyers are waiting. You forced Sommerville out of business - congratulations on a coup well done - and now you take over. Shouldn't play the game when you don't like the rules."

Dany's hand clenches around the gun. "You're coming after my family."

"You failed to protect him."

She unlocks the pistol, but Kauffmann just chuckles.

"This is your chance at making this right to him. Come with me, comply, make sure our shipment crosses the ocean and arrives safely, and you get your husband back. Don't, and he ends up part of it."

He doesn't repeat any of his comments from before. About how pretty Lorenzo looks. How lovely his voice sounds, when he begs. About what a perfect pet he would make. He doesn't need to. She understands.

She remembers.

Tears are welling up in her eyes, and she doesn't even try hiding them.

"Fine," she whispers. This isn't about morale. This is about Lorenzo. About how she failed him. "You win." She puts the safety back in, and drops the gun to the ground. The clatter rings in her ears, the sound of defeat. "Where... where do we start?"

“I know.” Lorenzo takes a shaky breath. “We’ll be good.” 

“No, you won’t be.” The man standing behind Lorenzo gives a harsh yank on the collar, making Lorenzo sputter for air. “You definitely won’t be.” 

“I left food on the grill,” Lorenzo says. “And I think I left a burner on too. I’m so sorry, Dany.” They both know he’s not talking about the food.

Dany flinches and her hand twitches for the camera, as if she could touch him. "You won't hurt him", she presses through gritted teeth. "You want something of me, you won't get it if you hurt him." 

"I think there's levels", the man with Dany says mildly. "We will hurt him. And you'll still give us what you want. So we can make him hurt less." He looks at the camera with a short nod.

They're right. She'll cave, give them exactly what they want, especially once he's bled a little. "Don't give them shit, Dany," he says, looking straight at the camera, straight at Dany. "Don't give these bastards what they want. I'll be fine, okay, but whatever they want you to do, don't do it, don't fucking--" 

He's cut off by another man walking forward and grabbing his face, squeezing his cheeks together. "I wouldn't listen to him. He's in way over his head." 

Lorenzo stares up at him, fury blazing in his eyes. It's the only way to hide how scared he is. The collar that once felt so safe is closing in on him, too tight, too much to handle. He needs Dany. Desperately.

"Enzo." Dany looks into the camera as if nobody could see her but him, her gaze speaking of nothing but love and worry. "Enzo, this is my business, I'll handle this, alright? You... you just do as they say."

"And we say that you should be quiet and pretty and stupid just like you're meant to be," the man holding his jaw croons. 

Lorenzo wrenches his head away. "Fuck you," he snaps. "Don't do it, Dany. Whatever they want, it's bad, please don't do it."

A harsh slap connects with his face, his neck twists to the side. "I thought I told you to shut it and let the adults talk. Now...now, we're going to make you pay."

"No," Dany hisses and spins to the man next to her, grabbing his lapel. "Kauffmann, tell them to leave him be, we're not fucking done talking here. I'm sure we'll find a deal."

Kauffmann's hand wraps around her wrist and he pulls her in. "You are not in charge, sweetheart. We are." He nods at the camera. "Show her." "Don't touch her!" Lorenzo yells. 

The man behind him chuckles and tangles his hand in Lorenzo's soft hair. "Come on, Fitz. Let's put his pretty mouth to good use, huh? Give his wife an extended version of the show we got earlier." Now that he's saying more than a few words, Lorenzo recognizes his voice. He's the man in the ski mask, the one who kidnapped him. 

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea." The man in front of him, Fitz, grins. 

Lorenzo jerks in his restraints, eyes still latched on Dany. "Don't tell them...anything. No matter what. I love you, Dany. I love you so much." 

"You think I should give him a chance, Adam?" 

"I think you should." Adam tightens his grip on Lorenzo. "I think he can be a good boy for us." 

"Not your good boy," Lorenzo grunts. He's only hers, only Dany's good boy. 

"We'll see about that." Fitz tilts his head to the camera, smirking at Dany, before turning back to Lorenzo. There's a gun in his face, quicker than he can blink. "Suck on it. Come on, diamond boy, put on a show for us." 

"N-no, no, I can't--" 

"Or I'll shoot you. Not somewhere that would kill you right away, but somewhere so your wife can watch you bleed out slowly." 

The words send a chill down his spine. "I'm sorry," Lorenzo whispers to Dany again. He's sorry he's weak, that he couldn't fight back, that he let himself get captured. He's sorry that he's going to do whatever they say because he doesn't want to die, not anymore. 

Lorenzo Hammond bends his head and takes the gun between his lips for the second time today. 

The metal is cold and heavy on his tongue, cloying his senses and making him gag on the foul taste of gunpowder residue. He swallows his pride and the saliva gathering in his mouth and bobs his head up and down the length of the barrel, looking up at Fitz with tears in his eyes. 

Fitz groans. "Fuck. That's hot."

In the background, he can hear Dany make a soft noise of distress and his brain short-circuits. "Oh, no," he mumbles around the gun, but it comes out incoherently. No no no no no. He can't do this, he can't have this thing in his mouth ready to kill him and his lips are stretched obscenely around the steel and it tastes awful and he's crying and gagging slightly and he can't do this, especially not with Adam's hand on his head. 

He can't do this. 

Lorenzo whimpers and tries to pull away from the gun, but Adam keeps him in place. "You're doing a horrible job, diamond boy," he hisses, loud enough for Dany to hear. "Trying to pull away before I'm done." 

No one gets to call him that but Dany, but it's happening anyway and Lorenzo is shaking as the first tear slides down his cheek. He doesn't want to be shot, doesn't want to die, he can't just die like this. 

He goes back to working his head along the barrel, hollowing out his cheeks so he can fit more of the gun in his mouth, gagging slightly. 

"No," Adam says. Lorenzo stops, confusion wracking his brain. He's doing what Adam asked, he's...sucking the gun, he's being good even though it makes him sick. "Fitz, I think it's time we showed this stupid slut what it means to get his pretty face fucked. "I'll keep him in a good position for you." Adam pulls Lorenzo's head back slightly and forces him fully upright. 

Lorenzo looks into the camera, right at Dany. She looks like she's coming undone and desperately trying to keep herself together, watching Lorenzo with the gun in his mouth, debasing himself for these men, his kidnappers. 

Fitz thrusts the gun into Lorenzo's mouth. The rough edges scrape the delicate skin, he's forced to keep his jaw wide so it doesn't bust his teeth. The gun slams into his gag reflex and Lorenzo chokes, coughing and sputtering and crying now. He's not getting enough air, he won't survive this, he can't.

Fitz doesn't stop, he keeps pushing the gun in and out at a relentless pace, despite Lorenzo's gagging, and Adam is holding his head still, talking to him the whole time. "Pretty boy. You should go to someone who would make good use of that mouth. I love your noises, baby. You're such a pretty crier. That's it. Look at your wife. Look at your wife while you let yourself get face fucked by a gun. Dumb little whore. I'm surprised this hasn't happened to you yet." 

Drool is falling from Lorenzo's stretched lips, coating his chin and chest, making the apron stick to his skin. This was supposed to be his safe outfit, they're ruining it, they're ruining him. He can't catch his breath with the gun cutting off his air supply and the sobs wracking his body. 

"Think the gun's had its fill?" Adam asks. 

"You know, I think so." Fitz pulls back the slide and Lorenzo's eyes go wide. 

He can faintly hear Dany yell, "No!" in the background but he's not focused on that. They're going to kill him they're going to shoot him. He's going to die here all alone. He's going to die. 

The gun is jamming against the back of his throat with increased force, he's too scared to fight back. He just has to sit there and take it as Fitz's finger inches closer and closer to the trigger-- 

Fitz pulls the gun away and Adam lets go of his hair. Lorenzo doubles over, gasping for air. There's a strand of saliva connecting the gun to Lorenzo's lips, and saliva all over the gun and Lorenzo himself. Fitz frowns and looks down at the dirty weapon. "Fucking disgusting." He wipes it on Lorenzo's apron and steps away. 

Lorenzo whimpers, still softly crying, still sputtering for air, he needs more air, he can still taste the gun.

"Apologize to Mr. Kauffmann for interrupting," Adam snaps. "Say it, slut. And make it real good, otherwise I'm gonna fuck your mouth with the gun, and I won't be as nice as Fitz. Look at the camera, too. Look your wife in the eyes and apologize for being such a desperate whore that you needed something in your mouth." 

Lorenzo can't but he has to, he can't have the gun in his mouth again. He raises his tear-streaked, drool-stained face to the camera, his lips sore and red and swollen. His voice is raspy, it hurts to talk. "I'm s-sorry, Mr. Kauffmann," he chokes out. Adam grabs onto his collar again as a warning. "I'm sorry for being such a-a desperate w-wh-whore that I needed some, something in my m-mouth. It w-won't happen again. Please d-don't let them hurt me." 

A deep wave of shame washes over him, watching the expression in Dany's eyes shift as he speaks. These next words are directed at her, but subtle enough that his kidnappers don't notice the change in tone. "P-please. I'm s-sorry." 

I love you, Dany. So much. And I hope you'll still love me.

Fitz picks up the camera and brings it forward, getting several close-ups of Lorenzo’s swollen mouth, of the tears in his eyes before making him come face to face with Dany one last time. 

She looks disgusted, horrified. Lorenzo is half glad when they end the call and leave him alone in the darkness. 

"Mr Kauffmann," she hears Peter say from outside her door. He's a better actor than she is. Her whole body is trembling, and she must be pale as a ghost. "I'm sorry for your wait. Ms Hammond could clear a spot in her timetable for you after all." There's even a touch of confusion to his voice, as if he had no idea why Dany changed her mind.

Kauffmann mustn't know Peter is aware of what happened, that's the one thing they had the chance to talk about. Whatever they'll do to her, Peter needs to stay out of it. Everything will rely on him. He'll try and reach Frankie, who was responsible for Lorenzo's security today, and they'll find out what's going on.

Fuck, Frankie. He was at the house, too, he doesn't answer his phone - Dany just hopes he's alive.

They’ve put a tracker into the lining of her shirt as well, a tiny line of connection. Both Kauffmann and his boss probably are too smart for that, but it’s worth a try.

If Frankie and Peter can’t get to Enzo in time, the Hammonds’ business will be lost. Dany would sacrifice everything for him in a heartbeat. And these fuckers know that.

Her hands are itching for her gun, to put a bullet right between Kauffmann’s eyes the moment he gets in here. Fuck. She splays her fingers, runs her open hands down her business skirt to give herself something else to do. She can’t afford to give in to her rage.

Peter knocks at the open door and peeks inside. "Mr Kauffmann for you, Danielle... Oh, you don't look so well? Are you alright?"

She hates him at this moment, she hates acting, she hates Kauffmann, she hates everyone. "Got a little headache", she says lightly. "Don't worry. I won't need you any more today, you can go home."

Peter nods eagerly. "Sure, I'll just get you both a coffee, and -"

"That won't be necessary, thank you," Kauffmann steps into her office, as if he owns it, and maybe he’s right. He’s dressed perfectly, in a tailored Italian suit and expensive leather shoes. The pretty poster boy representing his boss’ dirty business.

Kauffmann’s voice is smooth, confident, and he smirks as he notes Dany's hands curl into fists at her sides. "I think we want to be undisturbed. Have a good night, Mr Lennox."

Peter didn’t introduce himself. His name is not by the door either. Kauffmann is just establishing power here. As if the photo of her tied up husband wasn't enough to that end.

"Good night, Peter," Dany says coolly. "Please close the door behind you."

Peter does as he's bid, and once he's gone Dany's superficial relief at his safety is swept away by barely concealed rage.

"What-" She asks sharply as she steps in closer. "What did you or your fucking boss do to my husband?"

"Nothing yet." Kauffmann smiles and Dany fights the urge to slam a fist into his grin. "But, as you can imagine, his wellbeing from now on depends entirely on your cooperation."

He reaches into his jacket and Dany's hand goes for her gun.

"Ah." Kauffmann chuckles. "Come on, sweetheart. I'm not suicidal. I wouldn't dare bring a weapon into Hammond heartland."

"I'm not your sweetheart," Dany says icily, fingers resting on the gun.

"Maybe not." Slowly, cautiously, he pulls out a tablet computer and flips the display to her. "But you're his."