The Assassin's Bride

Carina's vision swirled as Carlos slapped her. He leaned in close and Carina gagged at the pungent cloud of wine emitting from his mouth. He didn't say anything, but there was a brutal warning in his eyes. She'd seen that same look, when a low-level thug insulted Carlos' and Eduardo's heritage. She'd quickly turned away before Carlos blew the man's brains out.

Carina knew the sober Carlos would be ashamed and horrified by what he was doing. But right now he wasn't listening to her, he was determined to get what he wanted, what he thought would ease his grief. At the moment all Carina knew was that her boyfriend was dead and now his brother was raping her.

"Carlos, don't!" She shut her eyes and groaned her frustration, feeling the fly on her jeans zip down, the material temporarily catching on her slender hips before tugging downward over crimson cotton panties.

"Beautiful. Shhh," Carlos tried to soothe her. "I won't hurt you, I'll take care of you." He moved forward again to nuzzle into her neck, and his fingers lustily probed around her pussy through her underwear.

"Say his name," Carlo's voice muffled into her neck, "Say it, Carina."

"This is sick!" Carina jerked in frustration, helplessly trapped in a twisted scenario.

A moments silence passed, then Carlos' hand left her crotch and trailed up, wrapping around her neck, half choking her.

"Say his name. Say it," he demanded, menacingly.

"E-Eduardo!" she gasped, struggling to breathe, wishing her boyfriend would come back from the dead to save her.

Carlos released her neck and started to undo his pants, still holding her arms above her with one hand, pinning her torso down as he straddled her.

"You keep saying his name!" he panted, his glassy eyes wide. "Together, we can bring him back to life..."

Carina realised with dread that he was clumsily trying to free his hard cock. He was going to rape her.

"That's enough!" A voice thundered across the room.

Both Carina and Carlos turned their heads to the furious man in the doorway.

Seconds later, Carlos was forcefully dragged off Carina and rolled to the floor in a drunken stupor. As Carina quickly pulled her shirt down and hurriedly did up her pants, Samuel looked down at Carlos in disgust.

"Is this how you honour your brothers memory?" he barked, holding his hand out to Carina. She was immediately pulled up from the couch to her feet and set behind Samuel before he turned back to Carlos.

"I called you two days ago," Carlos grumbled into the floor, pawing at the carpet pattern.

"I had business!" Samuel shouted. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Eduardo..." Carlos whined.

"I know!" Samuel retorted grimly. "That's no excuse. There's no excuse for this!"

His fierce gaze flicked to the spilled wine, still seeping into the carpet like a bloodstain, and back to Carlos' crumpled form. "So, you get drunk and rape Eduardo's girlfriend? Is that your idea of keeping things running?"

Carina gasped as Samuel suddenly kicked Carlos in the ribs. Raising a fist to bring it down, he changed his mind at the last second and punched it into his hand.

"Do you know what my business was?" he snapped, raking a hand through his blond buzzcut. "Making excuses on your behalf! I was too angry to take your calls!"

Samuel had been out of the country attending his niece's wedding when Eduardo was killed. He often worked with Carlos, their respective businesses attracted the same customers. If either of them took a break, they trusted each other implicitly to manage ventures on their behalf. Carlos, in his drunken grief, had holed up in his office and ignored all calls and messages from customers and prospective clients. This would inevitably impact upon Samuel's prospects, since many were under the impression they were business partners.

"Are you alright?" Samuel turned to Carina. He reached out to touch her arm, concerned. "Carina, he didn't hurt you?"

At her mention, Carlos' head jerked up. His bloodshot eyes filled with remorse. "Oh, my god, Carina!" he exclaimed, raising his palms to his head as though to block out the memory of his actions. "I'm a pig. I'm a piece of shit. I'm so sorry- I would never-"

"I'm fine, thank you, Samuel. He's just drunk," Carina stiffly replied, ignoring Carlos.

With Eduardo gone, her whole world collapsed. When Samuel touched her arm, it was the first time she'd felt comforted in her time of grief. That simple sign of compassion almost made her burst into tears. Angered by her weakness, Carina rushed to the door and left, hearing Carlos continue to cry out apologies behind her.

Carina had never spent time with Samuel in a social setting, they'd met briskly one or twice, he was only interested in business. He wasn't family, he was a stranger. And he'd just rescued her, from what she thought was family. What if he hadn't come by? What if-

Carina shook her head, not bearing to think further than that. Her dark hair tumbled about her face as tears streamed down her cheeks. Eduardo was a piece of shit, he didn't treat her right. Even his own brother knew it. But still, she felt only pain in his absence. Carina took a different exit from the building, evading the two men assigned to guard her. She wanted to be alone.

Blindly entering Eduardo's apartment, the breath left her body as a hand seized her arm and spun her against the wall.

"Where the fuck have you been?"

"You!" She gasped, staring up at Michael. As she parted her lips to shriek, he pressed a warning finger to her mouth and showed her the pistol.

"Yes, Me. Scream, and I will have to kill your nice neighbours." He briskly removed his hand from her lips. "Where have you been? Where are your guard-dogs?"

"I-I-" she stuttered, outraged.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Michael repeated. Though he kept his voice down, this jaw was clenched and a violent fury emanated with every word. "Locked up with Carlos for three days? Your clothes are rearranged. He touched you."

"What business is it of yours, rat?" Carina spat into his face, despite the tears continuing to flow. "Maybe I touched him! This is your fault!"

Michael sighed heavily as she drew breath to continue, and silenced her tirade with his mouth. He pulled away when she tried to bite him, and in one fluid movement pinned her head beneath his chin and enclosed his arms about her.

"Don't cry." Leaning close, he chuckled as she squirmed in his hold, trying to beat her fists against his chest. "This is fun," he murmured. "But we don't have time. Your incompetent body guards will be here any moment. Tonight is that night."

"What?" Carina hissed, glaring up at Michael, his handsome face warping before her eyes. "Uh-" she uttered, glancing down in time to see him briskly withdraw the needle from her arm. "Ohhh... you... fucker...-!!" she mumbled, sagging against his chest as her legs buckled.

***********************

Drifting in and out of consciousness, Carina lost all sense of time. It could have been five hours or thirty. Occasionally opening her eyes in a daze before succumbing to sleep, she was driven, carried, driven, carried. Once she awoke, carefully strapped into the passenger seat of a large off-road 4WD. Earthy dust swirled around them, the sun warmed her face whilst the engine fiercely roared to full speed in the background. A large span of land skipped by her eyes, dazing her, before she drifted off again.

In a quieter moment, she opened her eyes to see the sky and stars. In a luxury car with the seat back, fresh, calming night air drifted in from the open sunroof as the vehicle's smooth progression gently rocked her back to sleep. Toward the end of the journey she roused when a startlingly cold, ocean breeze harshly whipped across her cheeks. Lazily trying to move, she couldn't. Her limbs were sore and heavy, and she was tightly wrapped in a blanket. Mustering all her energy, she managed to feebly shift and crane her neck back.

Opening her eyes she again saw open night sky, and she was on a boat travelling at a measured pace. Sight adjusting, she realised with some shock that she looked up at Michael. With his hands on the wheel, he watched her. His smile widened into a grin at her clear dismay and frustration when she recognised him. Despite her fear and panic, her eyelids were too heavy and sleep overtook her.

Carina woke with a start when a hand stroked down her face.

"Eduardo!" she breathed, giddy with relief.

"Careful. Don't move, my love," he murmured. His fingertips gently trailed around her breast, and he leaned closer to kiss her neck.

"Why not?" Carina asked, gazing with adoration as he sat back. Taking in the wonderful sight of him, her eyes shone with happy tears.

"Because..." Eduardo turned away to get something. When he turned back, Carina screamed.

"No!" she shouted. Grasping the sides of the couch, there was nowhere to go. The couch expanded, the plush cushioning enveloped her.

"Because he is dead, and you have me now," Carlos growled, looming above her. His eyes were demonically black, and he was undoing his trousers. "Hold still, and he will live again."

Carina screamed and screamed, hysterically kicking and clawing as Carlos pressed closer and closer against her. The couch began to swallow them, she was suffocating.

Shaking uncontrollably, she blinked rapidly and made out a blurred, white blanket across her knees. She was propped up in a sitting position, with a strong, supportive arm about her shoulders.

"Breathe, Carina, breathe," a deep voice guided.

Shoulders trembling, Carina choked, and managed one rasping breath. Then she retched, and was violently sick into a basin held before her. A large hand soothingly stroked up and down her back while she vomited. It was a horrible dream, and an unpleasant wakening. Feeling uncomfortably weak and vulnerable, like a child, Carina miserably sobbed as a soft, damp cloth cooled her brow and wiped her mouth.

"What happened? Where am I?" she wept. Her nurse didn't answer, seemingly preoccupied with adjusting her pillows and laying her back on the bed.

"I was never good at giving bad news," Michael answered with a grim smile, which softened as she met his eyes.

Carina's jaw dropped. "Please, no!" she uttered wretchedly, looking around her for help. "Oh, no- What have you-?"

"I'm very sorry about the drug," he interrupted apologetically, leaning over her. "It is very effective, but the recovery is particularly nasty." Wanting to taste her, he began to kiss her neck and stroke her hair.

"Please, Michael, don't do this. Let me go." Carina was exhausted, and too nauseous to challenge him.

"You have everything that you need here," he ignored her plea, but stopped kissing her.

It was a large room, with beautiful open windows and fresh air. Carina was vaguely aware of the absence of city sounds. Trees rustled with the wind, birds called to each other, and the unmistakable lull of a distant ocean filled the background. It was likely a beautiful, tropical setting. But to Carina it seemed the worst thing in the world.

"No, no, no!" She moaned, trembling with distress. Shutting her eyes to the natural light, she weakly placed her palm on her forehead. "Michael, please-"

"Oh, my sweet, you are wasting your time," he sighed.

Opening her eyes to plead with him, Carina was startled to catch sight of his erection extending the material of his pants as though fighting to be free. He laughed, noticing where her frightened gaze landed.

"Not until you are better," he chuckled, as though withholding a treat. "Rest well. If you need anything, I won't be far." Then he was gone, and upset as she was, Carina drifted back into a troubled sleep.

At some point in the late afternoon, Carina opened her eyes, groaned and miserably rolled onto her side. She was still in the large, soft bed. Her dark hair was aggravatingly tousled. She lazily sat up and looked around her new prison. There was a beige wooden work desk. A large tv sat high and centre on the wall in front.

To the left, an open door led to an ensuite. To her right, large glass doors stood open and sheer white curtains gently swayed along the borders with the incoming breeze. Behind her, was a small dining area and lounge. The table was laden with food. Fresh fruit, cold meats, cheese. Her stomach gave a sickening lurch as she recognised the foods that Michael knew she loved to eat. Anger built with resentment about all the personal details he discovered about her through his deception.

Carina pulled back the blanket and sat on the side of the bed, the smooth tiled floor cooled the soles of her feet. She began to rub her temples, her habit whenever she was confused or frustrated. What was Michael's game? Was she a hostage to use against Carlos?

The dwindling hope that she was a mere hostage and would be treated respectfully dissipated as she recalled Michael's erection, the way he looked at her. Though he seemed only concerned for her welfare and comfort, she was certain he was going to rape her. She also knew she could never submit to her lover's murderer.

Tiptoeing to the window, she peeped out and gasped at the large expanse of surrounding jungle. She was quite high up, and could see a beach on the horizon as the sun drew closer to it. Was she on an island? The glass doors extended to a pretty little balcony, with a dainty white outdoor setting. Carina suddenly remembered Michael, that he could attack her at any moment.

She didn't have any family, unless she counted Carlos. Right now, she couldn't think about him. Or Eduardo. All her life she had been cosseted, complimented and admired. Told that the world was her oyster. Imagining she would meet a wonderful man, find love and start a family, instead she fell for Eduardo, and he claimed her as a cherished possession. She was content with this arrangement, so she told herself.

But now... she had nothing. No one to call on to help her. Even if she could escape, the police would ask questions she couldn't answer. All she had was the man who had just taken everything from her, and would inevitably take more than she could bear. Carina resolutely nodded, and stepped forward to jump to her death.

"Agh!" she cried out with surprise, staggering back from a clear barrier blocking her from the balcony. It was so sheer, she hadn't realised it was even there. It wasn't completely solid -- air abundantly flowed through a pattern of decorative vents, ruffling the white curtains.

"The fuck-?!" she hissed, furious about her thwarted plan. Her foot twitched with a strong temptation to kick the screen. Reaching out to touch it, she bared her teeth at the humiliating smudge her forehead had left on the barrier. It seemed very visible to her now, but clearly overlooked in her agitated state. A small noise from the doorway made her turn.

Michael leaned against the frame, his tall figure shaking with silent laughter. "I'm afraid the balcony is off-limits for you at the moment," he informed her, his voice still quivering with suppressed humour.

But a moment later, Michael's expression intensified with desire, and Carina nervously watched him straighten from the doorframe. For a long moment they stared at each other. Carina had dodged her fair share of lustful males, and was no fool. It wasn't a mystery that Michael wanted her. Having extracted herself from many sticky situations, she knew to not to panic, move suddenly, or taunt him.

"I want to rest," she said carefully. Waiting for his answer, she apprehensively bit into her full lower lip.

This was clearly a mistake, as Michael's eyes followed the movement of her teeth. He watched them dent the soft, pink flesh of her lips, and his eyes darkened with lust. He took a sudden step forward but halted, as though fighting to resist her. Believing he was going to attack, Carina stumbled back against the barrier in fright. Gown gaping open, her round, swollen breasts peeped into view, and Michael lost what little control he had left.

In two seconds he'd crossed the room, his arms wrapped about Carina, crushing her against him while he buried his face in her hair. It happened so quickly, Carina stood stunned and breathless as his hands roamed her body, then sneaked down to seize her buttocks and squeeze, pressing her against his erection.

"No! Please, Michael!" Carina begged, weakly pulling at his arms. "I feel sick! Please, I'm not well!"

Still panting, Michael pulled himself together and released her. Reluctantly, he forced himself to step back as she hurriedly wrapped the robe around herself tightly.

"Fine," Michael ground out. "But a time will come when you won't have that excuse." On that line of reckoning, he turned and left. Carina heard two locks click into place on the other side of the door.

Realising she held her breath, Carina deeply inhaled. It was true she was still weak and unwell, otherwise she'd have violently attacked Michael on sight. It all felt like a strange dream; she thought she knew Michael, yet now he was a completely different person.

Carina explored the ensuite, fitted with a large bathtub with an external shower. The shower was enclosed but without a roof. Carina squinted up at the evening sky, her eyes angrily narrowed as she made out the same thin barrier across the top. Turning, she caught her reflection in the big mirror above two large, white marble basins. Her hair was softly ruffled about her face, one side slightly raised from where Michael had run his hand. Her eyes were wide pools of purple, darkened by bewilderment and exhaustion.

Her lips were full and swollen, as though she had been kissing for a long time. Reaching to touch them with her fingertips, she remembered Eduardo would never kiss her again. Then she recalled Michael was the last man to kiss her, and she quickly dropped her hand. The white robe still drifted open, and Carina perused her body, her soft, full breasts. Gaze lowering over her smooth, flat belly, she slightly moved a leg aside to see her pussy. A small comforting smile curved her beautiful lips. Certainly Eduardo was the last man to enjoy himself there.

After cleaning her teeth and showering, Carina discovered there were several outfits in the large cupboard near the bed. She recognised many of her own clothes, and various new items with tags still attached. She didn't want to wear anything that would remind her of Eduardo and make her sad.

So she chose something new; a loose-fitted white dress. It was a little formal for indoor wear, but she didn't care. It had a gold embroidered scoop neck, and the remainder was made up of a sheer, silk that gleamed faintly gold tones when it caught the light.

With the drug effects almost gone, Carina was now ravenous, and settled into one of the cushioned seats to dine on her favourite foods, striving to forget who provided her meal.

"Feeling better?"

Carina's head jerked up from the wine label she was reading. Michael had also showered and changed into something more comfortable. His dark hair was damp and in disarray. The black t-shirt snugly fitted about his solid torso. He wore khaki green shorts which sat loosely at his hips. He might have appeared charming, if she didn't hate him so much.

When she didn't answer, Michael strode forward and took a seat opposite her at the table, watching her sullenly shrink into her seat as he approached.

"I know this is overwhelming," he said quietly, reaching for a purple grape. Popping it into his mouth, he fixed his eyes on her challengingly while he chewed.

"This was a dream of mine for some time," he continued, thoughtfully rolling another grape between his fingers. "I have never been in love before." He stopped and laughed when Carina glared at him.

Michael idly gestured around the contained room. "I doubted this was possible. I was almost reconciled to the idea of taking him out, and leaving you behind. But then," he shrugged. "I decided I didn't want to. I spend enough time and effort making others happy. Of course, I am richly rewarded. But money isn't everything. A man needs a woman. And you're the perfect woman for me, Carina."