Illicit Intrigue (Closed DaveDuff & DM)

DeliciousMaiden

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Samantha Warrington


“Jesus Sammie… you look like a hooker in that damn thing!”

The childhood endearment, coupled with the harsh comment cut through Samantha, but she schooled her expression and feigned incomprehension.

“In this daddy?”

She asked sweetly, matching his angry tones with a calm response, knowing she would infuriate him more.

“For God’s sake Samantha, we’re supposed to be a wholesome picture of family life, you’re supposed to be a doting daughter, not a fucking call girl!”

Samantha’s eyes narrowed.

“.. and that would make you the “doting” daddy then would it..?”

Her tone was soft and steely as she retaliated.

“… my we are play acting tonight aren’t we?”

James Warrington sighed in exasperation.
He knew he’d lost his temper with her again, but he knew she was deliberately provoking him.
She seemed to grow more infuriating, more rebellious by the day.
At 21, she seemed so much worse that she had in her early teens when most kids go off the rails.

“Sam… ”

He spoke now in reasonable tones, knowing anger would get him nowhere with her.

“Please go and change. We have ten minutes then the car will be here.”

She hid her reaction. She hated his measured politeness.
It made him seem even more distant than he already was.
She would never tell him so, however and matched his tone with the equal formality.

“Anything you say, daddy…”

Then she belied her reasonable reply by turning and flouncing off back up the stairs.

Turning into her bedroom, one of a suite of rooms she occupied in the vast house, she unzipped the dress that clung precariously to her rounded breasts and let it fall to the floor.
Though costly, she kicked the garment out of the way and moved to her closet to select a more appropriate dress, the one she already knew she would wear to this evening’s function.
She had known full well that the first dress, which was now lying forlornly discarded on the floor, would be rejected.
She smiled smugly and refused to feel remorse at her father’s anger.

She slipped into the “appropriate” dress; a shift dress with a layer of closely patterned black lace as the top layer, set off by a shocking pink material lining beneath it.
The dress was formal and ran from neckline to just above the knee.
It was classy, but youthful, the pink glimpsed subtly through the dense woven pattern topping it. The fabric clung flatteringly to her curves without being obvious.
Had she admitted it, this was actually much more her style, but she couldn’t let her father know that.
Sighing, she pulled out a black wrap and looked at herself in the mirror and grimaced.

Many considered Samantha Warrington a spoiled and ungrateful bitch.
She portrayed that image, worked on perfecting it.
She treated the people who had the misfortune to be around her with abominable rudeness and let no one close to her, not even her so-called friends.

Samantha’s mother had died years before, just after her 17th birthday;
a tragic car crash, which had left them both bereft and trapped in their separate worlds where they co-existed, but never communicated.
Samantha gave the impression of being confident and gregarious, but she lacked the security that had been present in her earlier life.
Sam’s mother had been the cement, which held the small family together, the balm to salve the hotheaded stubbornness of both father and daughter and lead them to a shared middle ground.
With her gone, so was the harmony of the household.

James Warrington could not understand his daughter’s behaviour, much less control it.
To Samantha it seemed that her father did not care about her conduct, no matter how badly she played up, unless, of course, she was being called upon to boost his “public image”.
Tonight was one of those nights:
A night when she was to be given an outing in his company.
She knew she would be paraded as the “first lady” in her daddy’s life.
She knew what to say, how to act, she had been trained to behave in public from the age of 17, even the funeral had seemed to her a massive publicity stunt.

Samantha turned away, annoyed with herself for letting her mind revisit that once more.
She gracefully descended the stairs to where her father still awaited her exactly as the car drew up.
Her father beamed his approval, but merely said stiltedly.

”Much better, Samantha..”

Taking her arm formally, James Warrington moved through the now opened door and down the steps of his vast residence.
Samantha’s eyes flashed with anger.
Anger was a safer emotion than feeling rejected by her father’s lack of affection and praise…

OOC:

Samantha Warrington, made up and ready to attend her father's function.

5ft 6, blonde shoulder length hair, blue eyes
slim - figured - well toned - flat stomach and small waist
with curvaceous hips and 36C bosom.
slender hourglass shape...
 
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Anthony Spilatro

I slammed the phone down on the reciever.....

That dirty son a bitch...

He had told me not to worry... he'd take care of it.... he had friends in the Justice Department he said....all the Federal charges would be dropped, he assured me....

But that wasn't the fuckin' case now was it?...two of my closest 'family' members had just been sent up for 15 to 25 in the Federal Pen.

Maybe he hadn't taken my threat seriously...but exposing him publicly now seemed of little value... I needed him in the position of power he held...it was the only god damned chance I had of gettin' my boys off the hook...I'd force the sonuvabitch to co-opoerate, one way or the other...

I picked up the paper I had been thumbing through earlier, remembering seeing his name, but not giving it a second thought at the time, his name was always pasted in the headlines....


Senator James Warrington to Appear at Fundraiser Tonight

I scanned the article, noting the times, and place of the event.

I called out to the hallway..."Ritchie, Frankie, get in here!"

They entered the door, dressed in the usual fine Italian black suits and dark glasses....

"Yea Boss...What d'ya need?"...Ritchie asked attentively.

"I want you two to trail this rat bastard Senator tonight, get me some good pictures, see who he's friendly with, find out who he's banging this month. I gotta work out a surprise for him, and need all the information I can get. Get me a history, if I remember his wife died a few years back, but he's gotta have some family, a brother, sister, or better yet a kid...He's gonna find out what a mistake it is to cross us... I'll do some diggin on my own, but I want to know every step he takes tonight... get back to me after he gets home...better yet, Frankie, you stake his joint out all night, you got it, see who comes and goes, I'll call ya in the morning. Vinnie and Little Pete just got 25 years, and that cocksucker is gonna get 'em out or pay dearly, ya hear me..."

I tossed the paper to Ritchie, knowing he'd know how to handle it from there, he was my best guy, and had dealt with many situations like this in the past...

"Now get outta here!", I ordered harshly, "I got some thinkin' to do!"
 
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Anthony's Pic

Forgot to post Anthony's picture.....

Here it is...
 
Samantha Warrington

The silence hung heavy in the limo as we sped on to the fundraiser.
Samantha glared over at her father. His earlier anger was forgotten.
The benevolent smile was pasted to his face as his mind ran over the schedule for that evening.

”Hell, he’s practising already..”

Thought Samantha sulkily as she watched her father metamorphose from the detached, exasperated parent of earlier to everyone’s idea of Mr Nice, Mr affable, Mr decent upstanding America.
It made her sick, but she bit her tongue.

“We should be arriving in… seven minutes..”

Her father stated quietly, consulting his watch.
Sam sighed awaiting her instructions, though every event was the same, or so it seemed to her.
Her father ran through the names of the dignitaries, the people she must speak to, people she should charm given the opportunity. She nodded as he spoke, recognising names and realising that it was indeed a gathering of the elite, the wealthy and well connected.
No further reminder of how to conduct herself was necessary, the routine had become second nature to her by now. Despite James Warrington’s constant worries, his daughter always carried it off well and was a skilled partner proving herself diplomatic and charming in conversation.

”Remember, Samantha, there will be lots of press, lots of publicity.
I know you know how to play to the camera, but tonight make the most of every opportunity to be seen with the right people… and be extra careful that the cameras don’t catch anything that would… prejudice my position.”


His voice was stilted and formal, the compliment, well hidden in the list of instructions he had given her. He rarely praised her and certainly never thanked her.

“Yes daddy…”

She responded dutifully this time. Too weary of fighting him and not wanting a confrontation just before the fundraiser. She knew this was a big evening for her father and despite their difficult relationship, she would never let him down and wanted the best for him.
As the car drew up she planted a quick kiss on his cheek.
He turned to her startled at the gesture, made privately and not for the benefit of the cameras.

"Good luck, daddy…" She whispered.

He gave one of his rare smiles, but was unable to reply for the car door was opened and he was obliged to slip immediately out of the car.
“Mr Senator meets his public.”
Samantha thought and took her father’s hand as he leaned in personally to help his daughter out of the car.

Samantha Warrington smiled confidently as the cameras flashed.
Her arm was tucked securely into that of her father.
He patted her hand affectionately and walked down towards the entrance.
He exuded power and confidence as people dashed around to welcome him, to escort the guest of honour into the reception hall.

Father and daughter moved as one, united as they always were when they faced the world.
Somehow it was only on such public occasions that either of them could allow their feelings for each other to be so evident.

Samantha looked up affectionately at her father and James Warrington beamed proudly down at his daughter.

A camera flashed capturing the moment…
 
Anthony Spilatro

My plan was already taking shape. There had to be someone, someone he'd do anything for. He'd have no choice but to comply with my demands. I knew he had the connections, he was a senior member of the Senate. But I also knew it wasn't something he could pull off overnight. I'd have to be willing to stick it out for sometime. If I was going to put up an unwilling guest for an indeterminate amount of time, I thought it best to get the lake house prepared. I'd had it done over with my protection in mind, but it would serve this purpose equally well. Only two doors to the outside, miles away from any sort of civilization, and bars on all the windows. A fortress, meant to keep the outside world out, but easily could become a prison, a very comfortable prison, but a prison all the same. It was quite large, and very well furnished, money had never been an object in my line of work. I had inherited it, down through the family, from my Uncle Vincente.

I was born in the 'Family', grew up knowing no other way. Pops, and his brother, were at the top of the chain. I knew since I was a young hustler, back in the city, that someday I'd be the Boss, running the northern half of the eastern seaboard. It was a dangerous position to hold, but I'd been groomed for it as long as I can remember.

I placed a call...

"Hey, Rocco...yea...Tony here...

I want you and Jimmy to go up to the Lake House in the morning...get thing set up for a long stay...yea... stock up the kitchen...you know the drill...

I'm bringin' up a...'guest'...if ya know what I mean...

...not sure yet, but secure the back room, whoever won't want to be there...yea... probably have to be confined to start with...

Hey, get the boat ready while yer at it... I need a vacation...may spend some time up there myself...
...Ok, then... yea, I'll be in touch...

I'd be ready... whenever... I knew I'd be acting soon, had to get the ball rolling....
 
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Samantha Warrington

Samantha stood demurely as her father was introduced to various dignitaries.
She smiled charmingly as she in turn met the line of honoured guests.
Her mind quickly matched names and faces. She worked efficiently memorising those whose acquaintances she should cultivate, and who she should steer clear of at present.
Many faces she knew, but as ever there were those amongst the mele of the assembled elite she did not recognise.

The introductions seemed to go on interminably, but finally they sat down to the meal, which would precede the speeches, then the auction, finished off with closing speeches of thanks. This was the end of the formalities, but afterwards entertainment of some sort was always provided. Sometimes the music was contemporary, sometimes formal, but more often than not a range was offered to satisfy all tastes.
This was the time when she would finally leave her father’s side.
He would kiss her benevolently and instruct her to “run along and have a good time”.

This was a scene they had played out time and time again.
Samantha and her father were too wise to let their guards down, especially when the informality set in.
They knew that more reputations had been lost at this point in the proceedings than at any other.
Samantha would leave her father to hold court in small groups, to pursue essential, “conversations”, whilst she was seen to have a good time.
She would put on a carefree, girl about town image, but at times such as these she would pick carefully whom she spoke with and danced with.
Each act, even each smile and gesture was a potentially political act.

“Miss Warrington…?”

Samantha looked up drawing quickly back from her reverie.

Smiling she allowed the man – middle aged attorney, influencial, to be treated with charm, but not courted overly – to aid her as she stood gracefully up from the table and took his offered arm to walk through to the main hall where the speeches and subsequent auction was to be held.
She smiled and commented on how she had indeed enjoyed the meal, until on entering the splendour of that function room, her father drew near to claim her.
With a smile to mask his disappointment, the gentleman promptly relinquished his position at her side and allowed the senator to lead his daughter to a prominent table at the front of the gathering throng, strategically placed so that they could see and be seen.

Samantha sparkled; she sat demurely and watched attentively as the evening played out before her eyes…
 
Anthony Spilatro

I had made a few more calls, gathering information, digging into the life of Warrington. He had a squeeky clean exterior, probably why he' been re-elected to his third term. There wasn't much for him to worry about underneath either. A couple of shady business dealings, a durnk drivng ticket that had been swept under the table and a few sexual trysts he'd probably rather not have to answer to. I was sure more dirt would roll in, once the rest of my contacts started getting back to me, but so far nothing too useful.

I'd started searching the internet, pulling up the major newspapers in the area and scanning through articles, on the off chance I might find someing useful. After abut 30 minutes it paid off. I found an piece dating back a few months, another fundraiser, in another part of the state. Nothing much in the story, but I happened to click on a link that brought up some photos. I recognized him right off, greeting, talking, and generally playing Mr. nice guy to several heads of business and local big shots. What grabbed my eye was one photo of him, his arm around a drop dead gorgeous little blonde. She looked to be only about 20, slim, and very well built. The caption identified her as he daughter, Samantha. Paydirt...just what I'd been hoping for. If I could track her down, which shouldn't be too difficult, I'd have my 'guest'. I printed out the photo, and continued digging around, looking, but not finding anything else about her, other than the mention of her name in a few unrelated articles.

I could only hope she was living in the country, on the east coast prefferably. It would make things much easier.

I poured myself a glass of scotch, snatched the photo from the printer, sat back and put my feet up on the desk. The rest would come...more details would flow in over the night, and Ritchie would be here later, with photos and details of Warrington's going ons tonight.

I lit a cigarette and studied the picture. Man was she ever a looker, blonde hair, blue eyes, she looked like a damned model.

I felt a twang of pleasure pass through me as I thought of the reaction the Senator would soon be experiencing. Anger, fear, sorrow, just the emotions I loved to impart on pieces of shit like him.

I tossed the page on the desk, and took a long drink, satisfied that I had my target, and continued working out the details in my head...
 
Samantha Warrington

It wasn’t that Samantha didn’t enjoy her father being Senator. She enjoyed the prestige, the benefits it afforded her, yet he had held the post for so long now, throughout her late teenage years. Samantha recognised that her father had thrown himself into his work after her mother’s death. He was a good man. He did his job well, but she knew that if he had not been re-elected, then he would have had more time on his hands and perhaps he would have been forced to focus on her more, before it was too late.

But he had been appointed once more. She had been jubilant, pleased for him, yet she realised, more than she did that with this heralded the end of her hopes for a closer relationship with him. Sure enough the merry-go-round of fund-raisers, good works, speeches, causes had started again and swept him up with it. Sure she went along for the ride. She would always support him, but meanwhile it was as if her own life were on hold.

Samantha was nobody’s fool. No one would ever dare suggest that she was the “blonde bimbo”, even though she had the looks to seem empty headed, she had learned well and had a quick mind. Her formal education had been successful and the education she had gained aiding her father was invaluable.
A future in public relations or diplomacy or even politics had crossed her mind, but she was biding her time.
She had inherited an independent income on her 21st birthday last month and before the year was out, she determined that she would finally decide what to do with her life. She had intended to break free when her father gave up office, but here they were again for another term. She couldn’t wait forever.

“Miss Warrington..?”

The attorney stood before her, smiling amicably, keen to draw her into a dance.
Samantha smiled and took his arm, chatting animatedly.
This poor man deserved a bit of her attention; besides, she had scanned the throng and found there was no more pressing focus for her attention.
She let him lead her to the dance floor and drew close to him as they swayed in time to the music, unaware of any specific eyes on her, but aware as always that she was being watched….
 
Anthony Spilatro

The reports had been trickling in. Warrington's early life, his education, and career advancement, both business then political didn't interest me too much anymore, but I filed them away, never know what I might be able to use in the near future. The daughter's life was more mysterious, she had graduated from a prominent college, done quite well in fact. Going over her transcripts, it appeared she may be following her fathers footsteps, political science, economics, a range of other courses, giving her many options in life.

Daddy must be so proud, I thought. He's groomed her from the beginning. He was bound to be devastated when all that was pulled from beneath him. I was begining to look forward to making him squirm, to see him powerless for a change, his life turned upside down and out of control.

I couldn't help myself from grinning at the thought of torturing him mentally. He was gonna dread the day my fellas were sent up the river.

I placed a call to Ritchie's cell phone, anxious for an update...

"Yeah?"

"Ritchie, Tony here, "what'ya got so far?"

"I think you're gonna like this, Boss. He's with some dame, a real piece of snatch, the lucky bastard. We got some good photos outside and Frankie got in."

"Good, keep a close eye on her, I gotta know, is she a blonde, stacked, looks like a model, about 20?"

"Yeah Boss, how'd ya know? Man would I like to get my hands on her, if ya know what I mean..." he chuckled.

I knew he had a reputation with pretty young girls. He'd gotten himself in trouble more than once, spent a couple of years in the slammer for lettin' his cock over-ride his brains.

"Hey," I warned sternly, "you keep your distsance, you hear me. I'm hopin' that's his kid, and if it is, we'll be nabbin' her soon. I don't want you messin' that up, tryin to get your jollies, you got that Ritchie?"

"Yeah Boss, I hear ya," he answered rejectedly. "I'll bring the pictures we got in when Frankie comes out. That ok Boss?"

"Yeah, that's good, tell Frankie to stick with her, from a distance, he's good at that. I don't want either of you bein' noticed."

"Ok, Boss, I got it. Hey Boss if we nab her, ya think maybe I'll get a chance to...."

"Shut up Ritchie!" I shouted into the phone, "keep your mind on yer job for a change will ya! Now just do as your told and nothin' else. I expect to see you in a couple of hours. Don't fuck this up Ritchie, remember, we got a lot riding on it."

"Ok, ok Boss, I'm sorry, but damn, she's a hot one. I'll be good boss, I promise...I'll be in as soon as I meet up with Frankie and pass on your message."

"Ok Ritchie, I'll see ya later..." I hung up, and sighed. Pleased that things were falling into place so easilly, but worried about Ritchie screwin' things up. I had to keep him away from her, at least till we got her safely tucked away.

Boy if Warrington only knew what was waiting for his little flower, I laughed. I was gonna enjoy fuckin' with his mind....
 
Samantha Warrington

Samantha sipped the drink – wine spritzer, small measure of dry white wine, ice and topped with plenty of soda water – and smiled at her companion. They had retreated from the main hall and stood just beyond the French windows, their eyes on the courtyard garden beyond.

”So much cooler out here, don’t you think..?”

Samantha smiled at the handsome man who stood opposite her and sipped her drink, throwing a surreptitious glance back into the room over her shoulder and meeting the watching eyes without acknowledging them.

”Much…cooler...yes…”

She agreed softly and let her eyes wander off into the darkness, letting her erstwhile dancing partner watch her as if unobserved.
She remained immobile as she felt his arm creep about her waist.

”You are some dancer, you know that..?”

Samantha turned and answered him, her tone soft and husky.

”Why thank you, Mr Chambers… you’re quite a mover yourself…”

She let her gaze wander over his body and met his eyes once more.
She did not have to force the admiration she allowed to show in her eyes.
Of all the men daddy encouraged her to … target … He was certainly someone she had relished getting close to!
Edward Chambers was a well-built, yet agile man, just in his thirties and had indeed just completed a series of energetic moves, sweeping her about the dance floor as she laughed until she was breathless.

He quirked a smile at their distant politeness, so in contrast with the unspoken messages he sensed were hidden behind the sultry look she now gave him..

”I’m so pleased my … moves… were ... welcomed..”

Samantha smiled at his softly spoken words and allowed him to draw her close.

”How could you think otherwise, Ned… “

She purred, as his head came down towards hers.

”Samantha…"

His deep murmur filled her ears just before his lips met hers.
She shivered and began to move her lips in response …

”Samantha..?!"

The enquiry as to her whereabouts seemed to ring out in the darkened garden.
Both drew apart guiltily and managed to retrieve their discarded glasses just before James Warrington approached in search of his daughter.

”There you are sweetheart, I wondered if you were ready to leave… oh… Chambers… how nice to see you at last…I … didn’t realise you were acquainted with my daughter..”

Samantha schooled her face to smile.
As ever her father played it just right: fatherly concern, then recognition of her suitor finishing with a question tinged with just a hint of speculation…

”Yes daddy… Mr Chambers was saying how he’d love to call round tomorrow sometime…. “

Shooting a smouldering luck at Edward, Samantha continued, as if improvising.

”…to check out the plans for that new Bay project you were considering… isn’t that so Mr Chambers…?”

Edward could not resist her imploring glance and agreed whole-heartedly, assuring them that he would visit late afternoon the following day.
Unwilling to push his luck, he stated his intention of calling it a night and moved to take his leave of Samantha.
Both were very aware of her father lurking in the background, so they shook hands formally, their eyes communicating what could not be said.

”Good night Miss Warrington, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow…”

She smiled, blushing slightly as his fingers caressed her wrist as his hand held hers in a seemingly impersonal manner.

”It will be a pleasure to… err… see you again…”

She whispered as he finally released her hand and she watched him walk away, not realising that her father was watching her face and correctly for once reading her expression.

”No.. Samantha .. forget it… !"

His abrupt tone brought her back to reality.

”Forget what..?”

I know what you’re thinking and that young man is totally unsuitable.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he ploughed on, unheeding.

”Sure he’s brilliant, but he’s a hot head, stubborn, politically .. volatile.. “

Seeing her defiant glare he continued reasonably.

”Hell, Sam, if we hadn’t cooked this up, he would have continued to refuse to meet with me to discuss those plans. He’s narrow-minded, can’t see the broader picture...”

He gave up in exasperation, sure that whether she agreed or not, his daughter would not defy him in this.

”I’ll go get your wrap…”

Samantha gave a sigh of frustration.
She had temporarily forgotten the plan for her father to find her out there with Edward, forgotten as soon as Ned's eyes had met hers and their lips had touched.

”Ohh.. fuck..! “

She whispered to herself and downed the rest of her drink.
Common sense told her she could not date anyone who was opposing her father in anyway, but still…

She moved back towards the room, feeling guilty for once about the “game” she was sometimes encouraged to play. Usually the men were old perverts anyhow and her father made sure they did not take undue advantage of her. In those circumstances, she felt no remorse, even satisfaction at exploiting their lechery.

But tonight had been different.
She had seen the whole thing in a different light.
She realised that she no longer liked being the bait.
For the first time, now she had felt it, she realised the frustration that her father’s untimely, but planned interruptions caused.
Surely manipulating someone like that was wrong... ?

Walking into the room, she hid the revelations that were dancing round her head.

Smile back in place, Samantha moved towards her father and took his arm.
Together they made a leisurely exit, making sure they were “seen” to leave, almost as much as they were “seen” to arrive.

Things were going to have to change… she vowed silently, slipping thankfully into the seat of the limo.
 
Ritchie showed up with an envelope full of photos. He'd already stopped, had them developed and a few of them blown up.

"Everything go ok, Ritchie?" I asked, raising an eyebrow curiously. "All quiet, no scenes, I'm hopin."

"Yeah, Boss, I told ya not to worry, Here ya go."

He handed me the envelope, and I began thumbing through them, laying them out on my desk. We sorted them, chronologically, as Ritchie described the evening.

"They left the house together, real nice place he's got there, Boss. I noticed her right off, all dolled up fancy like. He pointed out some long distance shots, followed by a couple more, with them filling the frame. Frankie had picked up some new camera gear last month, and had put it to good use.

I picked up one of the close ups, wanting to be sure we'd been talking about the same girl. Sure enough, it was her. Her hair was done up differently than in the news photo from last month, but the was no doubt it was his daughter. There were a couple more photos of them in the car, then several at their arrival to the event. They were mostly all smiles and handshakes, big shots, and reporters. One of the blow-ups stood out. I pulled it from amongst the pile and studied it. It was a close up, just the two of them, father and daughter. That one photo firmed my assurance in my plans success. She was looking, affection written all over her face, into daddy's eyes, and his returning look projected loving pride, and fatherly devotion.

I smiled, knowing that soon, that look on his face would be fear, shock and insecurity, as daddy's little princess had disappeared, pulled from the safety and security they had both always known, nabbed by the mob, and being held, against her will. who knows where, and having who knows what done to her.

I looked up at Ritchie, who was staring, eyes full of lust and hunger, at a close up of the girl. His look planted another seed in my mind, and I chuckled down deep in my throat. I began thinking of ways I could use his lust, and desire for her to my advantage. I'd have to keep him on close reign, but I could let it out slowly, methodically. Surely he would put a fear into her, she'd see that look in his eye if they were ever to be placed in close proximity. I could capture that look, photograph it, and forward it to daddy, filling him with an urgency to comply to my demands....

I tossed the pictures down, and questioned Ritchie on the rest of the evening....

"Well, Frankie was inside, with the camera, I was watchin' the front, I stepped around some bushes, to have a smoke, ya know, I saw her, up on a little balcony, with some guy. It looked like she was givin’ him a tease....ya know gettin' close, pullin' back....holdin' hands and touchin', that kinda thing. That was right before they came out. I told Frankie what you said. He followed them and I called Bobby. He picked me up, we got the pictures done up, and he brought me back here Boss, that's about all i know."

"Alright Ritchie, ya did good. Go ahead and get some sleep now. Looks like we may be goin' outta town for a while..."

"Hey, Boss?" he turned and gestured to the photo he was still holding onto. "You mind if I take just this one? You got a whole lot there, I'd sure like to have just one, ta look at ya know."

"Sure Ritchie, go ahead, you earned that, at least tonight." I said, with a grin. "But don't be gettin too worked up over her now. I don't want you touchin a hair on her pretty little head without my permission, you got that? Let's just see how things play out."

"Ok, Boss, thanks, I'll remember that. Nite Boss." He said, half assuring as he turned and left the room.

I placed a call to Frankie, thanked him for the great job with the photos, and let him know I'd be sending Bobby out to keep him company.

"Now you two be on your toes tomorrow, I'm dependin' on ya. Make sure your not spotted. Keep in touch, let me know about every move that goes on around there.....First chance we get, so long as we're not compromised....I know you will Frankie, that's why I gotcha out there....Ok, I'll be checkin in early with ya... Yeah, Bobby will be out there soon... get some rest.... ok Frankie, talk to ya later...

I was now able to get some rest myself, knowing that Frankie and Bobby were on the scene, taking care of things, and if all went well, I'd have my 'guest' and be heading up to the Lake House for a quiet vacation..........
 
Samantha Warrigton

“Samantha!… Where are you going… have you forgotten Ned’s calling this afternoon…?”

Samantha sighed in exasperation and with a shrug of defeat walked towards her father’s study.
The fine material of her black flared skirt clung to her curvaceous hips, the bare legs were thrust into black leather sandals, she wore a white lacey gypsy top and carried a little red jacket slung over the black shoulder bag she dangled casually over her right shoulder.
She hid her exasperation as she moved to the study and forced a smile as she leaned on the doorframe.
Her father looked up from amid the sea of papers and frowned slightly.

“I haven’t forgotten about Ned, daddy, but that’s not ‘til much later.
I wanna go and see Steph..”


At the questioning look from her father at the familiar shortening of Edward's name, Samantha gave an irritated sigh.

"Who are you going to see?"

She felt like she was being interrogated and hid her annoyance.
Even though she had studiously kept the depth of their friendship from her father, she should not need reminding who Steph was.
Sam didn’t want him to start prying, so made no comment, but
spoke with a forced casualness, identifying her friend, but this time in terms her father could understand.

“You know… Stephanie Charles ... her father, Vincent, was a diplomat, French speaking, retired early due to ill health, her mother, Margaret, runs the Lady’s Guild and champions lost causes…”

Recognition lit his eyes as Samantha continued to chatter on, pretending that she was in no particular hurry, whilst inside all she wanted was to get out of this house and go tell her friend all about Ned and ask her advice about her plans to change the status quo.

James Warrington beamed as Samantha implied that her call was not merely social, but to gain information about the latest “hopeless case” Steph’s mom was getting all steamed up about, implying that it might be an interesting use of her time and could well merit a noticeable, but uncontroversial mention in the press.

Sensing no deception, James Warrington nodded his approval, having already turned back to his work.
As Samantha moved from the room, he called a reminder that she should present herself at 4:30 pm, shortly after Edward Chambers’ intended arrival.

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

Sam took the car as far as the mall, stating that she had some shopping to do before her “appointment”. The driver used to her slightly capricious ways nodded and drove off swiftly leaving Samantha with an hour to kill before the arranged meeting. Samantha grinned as she strode along the arcades and paused now and again to browse in the windows that drew her attention.

The “meeting” was not at Steph’s plush residence as she had implied, but in a little bistro tucked away by the side of a square, just a short walk from the shopping mall. This venue was chosen primarily as it was nowhere near Margaret’s madly protesting mob, but also because the two girls could secrete themselves at a corner table, eat, share a bottle of wine and have a good gossip.

Smiling, Sam strolled in the direction of an immense parfumerie, deciding to buy a gift for her friend. She knew Steph had inherited her father’s love of all things French and her mother’s taste for expensive perfume. It was one of the perks of being well off, she could buy gifts on a whim; daddy had set her up with enough plastic to keep afloat for a year.
Even though she could easily afford it, she knew that it was the thoughtfulness of her gift would be appreciated:
After all, Stephanie was the only real friend she had…
 
Anthony Spilatro

The morning had gone quietly. Frankie reported no movement when I phoned him in the early hours. I told him to check in every couple of hours, earlier if necessary.

I didn't have to wait long, the ringing of the phone shook me from my thoughts.

"Boss, Bobby here." I could tell by the background noise that they were driving. "She's on the move, left about 5 minutes ago, with a driver. We're following, at a safe distance."

"Ok, Bobby, just don't lettem spot ya. Stay on the line, lemme know where they're headed. You two are all set right, got everything ya need?"

"Yeah Boss, you know Frankie, he had me pick up some stuff on the way over last night. He said were good to go, just say the word..."

"Let's see where they're goin, I rather get her alone if we can, but I'll leave that up to Frankie, he's in charge there, just follow his lead, do as he tells ya." I heard some muffled words in the background.

"They pulled into a shopping mall, She's gettin out alone, looks like he's droppin her off, Frankie said he's gonna follow her, for me to stay in the car and wait for instructions..."...more muffled talking......he says not to worry, but we gotta keep the line clear so he can get through to me if I need to move".

"Alright, I'll letcha go, lemme know when somethin' happens"

I clicked closed the cell phone and called Ritchie in...

"Go get the Suburban ready for a trip to the lake. Filler up with gas, tie some coolers and bags up top, make it look like a family campin' trip."

I tossed him a set of keys to the black SUV.

"Right, Boss. No problem, I'll be back in half and hour."

A change of vehicles would be safer, just in case anyone sees them make their move. The Suburban would make perfect cover, the dark tinted glass would provide the interior privacy, and geared up for a camping trip, it would look right at home on the trip up to the lake.

I packed up a bag for myself, looking forward to some quiet 'down' time away from the city. I gathered up my laptop computer, digital camera and video camcorder.

Ritchie hadn't returned yet when the cell phone rang...It was Bobbie, The car radio was playing quite loudly, and his voice had an air of excitement to it.

"We got her Boss, we're on our way in!"

"Good, good job fellas, how'd it go?"

"No problems Boss, Frankie followed her out behind the mall, she was just walkin' down the sidewalk, quiet little area. I caught up with 'em at a deserted intersection, and Frankie came up behind her and slipped her right in the car. We were down the road before she knew what happened."

"Ok, I knew Frakie would handle it like a pro. I'll be ready for ya when ya get here. "

"We'll be there in 15 minutes Boss, see ya then.

Ritchie had returned during the conversation. I sent him to pack, and told him to meet me back in the garage.

I got all my stuff out there, loaded up in the back of the truck, and opened the door. Ritchie joined me, and it was just a short wait before the dark Lincoln pulled in, the door closing behind them.

Bobby got out and helped Frankie pull her out of the back seat, as I nodded them toward the Suburban. She had a bandana tied across her eyes, another behind her neck, and through her open mouth, effectively muffling her protests. Her hands were bound behind her, but she was still putting up quite a struggle, pulling away from them and flailing her legs as she was held between the two strong men.

"Samantha!" I shot out with a deep, firm voice. "I would suggest you calm down a bit, it will make things easier for both of us. I would rather not have my boy's hurt you, but that will depend upon your cooperation. Now we're going for a ride. If you accept that fact, and sit quietly, that's how we'll do it. If you continue thrashing and kicking, I can have you tied firmly and you can enjoy the ride locked in the trunk."

I knew the SUV didn't have a trunk, but imagined the thought of riding in acramped space would encourage her to choose the former of the choices presented.

"We're going to be spending quite some time together I imagine, so lets try not to make a bad first impression, shall we."

"Now, the boys are going to help you into the car, they will be on either side of you, so there is no point in trying to get away, or do anything you may regret. We'll see how it goes that way, but believe me, if you'd rather make it difficult for yourself, that can easilly be arranged as well."

Frankie and Bobby got her into back seat, and sat got in beside her. I got into the passenger seat and had Ritchie drive.

We negotiated our way through the light early afternoon traffic, and soon were on the highway, putting the city behind us.
 
Samantha Warrington

Samantha tucked the small bottle of perfume into her handbag and smiled, pleased with her purchase. She knew Steph would be thrilled. Although Sam had wandered around the mall, this had been her first purchase, she was content to window shop until the time when she’d arranged to meet up with her friend.

Looking at her watch, Sam noted that it was now 1:20, plenty of time to get to the little bistro for her 1:30 “appointment”. Well, hardly appointment, Sam thought to herself as she turned down the side street, usually one or both were late, having been caught up with something or distracted along the way. She did hope Stephanie would be on time today though. Sam so much wanted to discuss things with her and knew that she was supposed to be back quite promptly. Sam hurried on stepping out to cross the secluded little square, her eyes focused in the direction Steph would come, the bistro just in sight now.


It was moments after the bandana was slipped over her eyes and the hand clamped over her mouth that Samantha actually registered what was happening.

She kicked out and tried to scream, but the hand held her mute.
So swiftly was she dragged off her feet that she found herself laying prone in what appeared to be the back seat of a car before she could gather her wits about her.

She struggled and tried to bite the restraining hand so that she could scream and attract attention.
She felt the gag being tied securely and her hands pulled behind her.
The ropes wrapped tightly about her wrists held her secure.
She felt herself hauled roughly upright.
She had no choice, but to sit still.
She pulled tentatively at the ties about her wrists, but found herself to be tightly bound.

Samantha was scared, but determined to try to get free.
To do so she had to try to find out as much as she could about her captors.
She strained her ears to deduce who or how many abductors were in the car with her, but could hear nothing.
Communication must have been limited to a series of nods and looks.
This did nothing to calm Samantha’s growing nerves.
They seemed so well organised, professional.
She tried not to let her mind imagine what they intended to do with her.
She sat in seeming passivity as the car moved steadily away from the place she had been snatched.

Finally the car halted.

Samantha could not tell what kind of area they had stopped in.
Although trying to remain calm, when Samantha felt the strong grip on her arm, she reacted instinctively, kicking out, struggling and trying to scream through her gag.
A second pair of hands grabbed her on the other side and Sam pulled aside, trying to kick the second thug before he had a secure grasp on her.

Pulling from side to side, landing the odd well aimed kick on shins and ankles Samantha tried to make as much fuss and noise as possible, hoping that someone would hear and come to see what the commotion was about.

"Samantha!"

The voice rang out stopping Samantha in mid kick as she turned her head to try to discover who was speaking.

”I would suggest you calm down a bit, it will make things easier for both of us.”

Sam pulled defiantly against the hands that held her, and gasped as the strong fingers pinched at her arm roughly.
The commanding voice continued.

” I would rather not have my boy's hurt you, but that will depend upon your cooperation.
Now we're going for a ride.
If you accept that fact, and sit quietly, that's how we'll do it.
If you continue thrashing and kicking, I can have you tied firmly and you can enjoy the ride locked in the trunk."


Samantha’s mind raced.
She was filled with the fear she had managed to suppress so far.
Fighting had been her only defence, the hope of early escape the determination not to let these thugs beat her had kept her going… but… that voice had chilled her, as had his words, his threats. Threats that were open, unveiled, leaving her in no doubt about the fact he would have no qualms about hurting her.

"We're going to be spending quite some time together I imagine, so lets try not to make a bad first impression, shall we."

His tone was almost conversational, as if she were to be a guest not a captive.
Samantha swore into the gag.
At the back of her mind, however she noted that this man, who was obviously in charge of the whole abduction intended to be round for a while.
The thought of that did nothing to ease her worries.
The guys who had snatched her were obviously the “muscle”, but it was he who would determine her fate and seemed a pretty malicious character from what she had heard so far.

"Now, the boys are going to help you into the car, they will be on either side of you, so there is no point in trying to get away, or do anything you may regret.
We'll see how it goes that way, but believe me, if you'd rather make it difficult for yourself, that can easily be arranged as well."


Samantha knew that these were not just idle words.
She was not going to give him the satisfaction of bundling her into the trunk, or of having his “boys” rough her up.
With as much dignity as she could muster, Samantha drew herself to her full, petite height and moved her arms to shake off the rough grasps that now restrained her.
She allowed herself to be guided into the back seat of the car and sat upright between the two men.

She tried not to shake as she heard men getting in the driving and passenger seat:
Five of them she calculated, one being the boss.
Samantha knew that she was totally trapped and that to attempt an escape would be futile.
No way could she even attempt to get away, hemmed in as she was by her captors.
Her wrists remained tied; she wriggled her hands to try to improve the circulation.
She tried to get her bearings, but in truth Samantha had been lost before they had even changed vehicles.

Samantha was silent now.
Behind the bandana she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on any conversation or sounds that drifted round her.
She sat bolt upright throughout the journey.
Initially in defiance, but progressively as the journey continued, her body was held paralysed by the increasing fear that seeped into her very bones, even though her mind desperately tried to shut the terror out...
 
Anthony Spilatro

She sat still and quiet, apparently resigned to the fact that she really had no other choice. I turned in my seat, choosing just how much I'd explain to her now, and just how much I'd let her wonder and worry about.

"You're doing well Miss Warrington, that's smart of you." I said in a deep but calm voice. "If this behavior continues, you should have nothing to worry about. I'm sure escape is on your mind, but let me remind you that any attempt would be foolish. We'll be staying at a large house, many miles from anything, deep in the woods. If you were somehow to break free from us, there is very little chance you'd survive more than a couple of days, wandering aimlessly, until making a nice meal for a bear or a pack of coyotes.

I really didn't want to spend my time at the cabin worrying about her attempting escape so, hopefully she'd listen to my words, and not make any attempts.

"This whole thing is not really about you, Samantha, and I have no real desire to cause you any pain, as long as you give me no reason. We'll have plenty of time to talk about all that later. For now, I'm sure your wrists are getting uncomfortable, so I'll do you the favor of releasing them. Just don't make me regret it, and don't try to remove the blindfold, that'll have to wait until we get to the house."

I nodded to Frankie and Bobbie, they leaned her forward and removed the ties from her hands.she pulled them out from behind her, rubbing her wrists.

"Ok, better then?.....I think we've got about another hour to drive, just relax, and we'll be there before we know it."

Fewer and fewer cars passed as we drove deeper and deeper into the woods. We turned off the main road, and traveled another several miles on a narrow, bumpy gravel road, until finally the lake came into view. We stopped at a gate, I got out, opened the lock letting Ritchie drive through, and secured it behind us. I dialed up Jimmy, at the house, not wanting to surprise him and Rocco with our arrival.

"Heya Jimmy........
Yeah, good...we just passed the gate, be there in 15 minutes...
You got the back room secured?...
Ok....right....
No...so far so good, no trouble yet, but keep on your toes..."

"Ok, Samantha, we're almost there, Frankie and Bobby here will show ya back to your room. I'll bring something to eat in a while, so just take it easy, don't cause no trouble, and I won't make things any harder than they have to be."

We pulled up to the front of the large, rustic looking but fully equipped house. The boys led Samantha in the house, and straight through to the back room. It was really just a large bedroom, had it's own bath, and was fully furnished. Jimmy had rigged the door to lock from the outside, and at least for the time being, she would be confined there.
 
Samantha Warrington

The journey seemed to be endless.
From what I could tell there was less and less traffic around and I wondered where the hell they were taking me and could not even work out how long I’d been in the first then second car for:
It seemed like an enternity.

"You're doing well Miss Warrington, that's smart of you."

I jumped as that voice addressed me again. The formality was mocking, ironic after his sharp reprimand of “Samantha!”, when I’d tried to avoid letting his henchmen transfer me from one car to another.

"If this behaviour continues, you should have nothing to worry about.
I'm sure escape is on your mind, but let me remind you that any attempt would be foolish.


Foolish maybe, I thought, but I was certainly not going to just sit around fitting in with whatever sick plan they had in mind!

”We'll be staying at a large house, many miles from anything, deep in the woods.
If you were somehow to break free from us, there is very little chance you'd survive more than a couple of days, wandering aimlessly, until making a nice meal for a bear or a pack of coyotes.”


I tried not to shiver at the picture he painted, both of the isolation of my “prison” or the inevitable consequence of an attempted escape.
I wondered if he was lying, pretending the place was isolated in order to ensure my good behaviour, but as I strained to listen, the sound of traffic was much reduced.
I was sure that we were no longer in the city at least…

"This whole thing is not really about you, Samantha, and I have no real desire to cause you any pain, as long as you give me no reason.”

Again the smooth assurance, coupled with a thinly veiled threat.

“We'll have plenty of time to talk about all that later.
For now, I'm sure your wrists are getting uncomfortable, so I'll do you the favour of releasing them.
Just don't make me regret it, and don't try to remove the blindfold, that'll have to wait until we get to the house."


I tried, unsuccessfully, to hold back the gasp of relief as the thugs at either side of me unknotted the ropes restraining my hands and let me pull them before me once more.
I rubbed the wrists, feeling ridges and imagining pink welts caused from the tightness of my bonds and aggravated by my pulling against them.
I hunched my shoulders and moved my arms, allowing the blood to flow normally into my arms once more. Only now they were released, did I fully realise how uncomfortable it had been to have my arms yanked backwards like that.

"Ok, better then?.....I think we've got about another hour to drive, just relax, and we'll be there before we know it."

Relax he said? As if I could relax, with my blindfold still in place.
I made one movement to adjust it, not to pull it away from my eyes and the guy to my right had his hand on my arm, pulling it downwards.

”Not a good idea sweetheart…”

He hissed in my ear, as if making sure his boss did not notice.

”Don’t make us tie yer up again… “

I felt his hand release its grip and travel lightly down to my arm and brush my breasts, as if by accident as he drew his arm away from me.
I shivered in revulsion, unable to tell him to keep his hands to himself or explain that I had not intended to pull the bandana away. Frustrated by my gag and blindfold, I made no movement and sat as the journey continued…

Gradually, the sound of traffic all but died away and the road seemed rougher, unmade and winded round.
Although unbound now, I struggled to steady myself, determined not to lean or fall against the thugs who flanked me in the back of the car.
The car stopped and I heard the man, the boss at the front got out of the car.
I jolted as the car moved slowly forward without him.
I strained to make out what was happening, the sounds, that voice once more and then the sound of heavy metal.
My concentration was interrupted as the front passenger door was opened once more and the voice spoke clearly.

"Ok, Samantha, we're almost there, Frankie and Bobby here will show ya back to your room.
I'll bring something to eat in a while, so just take it easy, don't cause no trouble, and I won't make things any harder than they have to be."


Again the car moved forwards, driving slowly along what felt like a track, which went upwards, and wound round a few times.
The car was drawn to a halt and the front passenger door opened.
Not a word was said this time.
I felt my arm taken as I was guided out of the car.
I was allowed a moment to get my balance and get the feel of my legs before being drawn on, guided up steps, through a door, a long passage and finally through another door.

I felt myself drawn over the threshold and finally the two hands, one on each arm released me.
I heard a chuckle as a voice commented mockingly:

”Enjoy your stay, Princess..”

The laugh of the other man was immediately followed by the heavy bang of the door and the clunk of a lock falling into place.

For seconds I stood in the middle of the silent room, as if unsure if I was in fact alone.
Suddenly, realising I was no longer guarded by anyone; my hands flew to my blindfold and pulled at the knot and the cloth and drew it away from my eyes.
I pulled at my gag, but was unable to untie it, so slipped it down over my chin to hang about my neck.

I blinked as my eyes looked about the room.
The room was flooded with the warm glow late afternoon sun.
I flew to the window to find it was heavily barred.
Outside all that could be seen was trees and shrubs.
I ran let my eyes travel round the room.
It was comfortably set out with a bed and furniture, almost like a studio apartment.
It did not resemble a prison, but as I moved to the door, I realised the bars on the window were accompanied by a heavy wooden door.
I ran my fingers over the surface.
There was no lock and no handle even on the inside.
I spy-hole and a panel seemed to have been cut into the strong material, but again, these were not designed for the use of the inmate.

Finally I walked to the bed and sank wearily onto the soft mattress.
I pulled irritated by the material of the gag, frustrated by being unable to totally release myself from it.
I looked at my wrists, which were now merely slightly chafed and ran a hand through my mussed hair, before putting my head in my hands.

What time was it now?
Had I been missed?
It was way past the time I should have been home?
What about Steph?
Would she raise the alarm?
This was frighteningly well organised… what the hell did these men want…?
I remembered it was not supposed to be about me?
If that were true…

I looked up as I thought I heard approaching footsteps, straightening myself to look defiantly at the doorway, but not trusting my legs enough to stand I tried to hide the rising fear and helplessness that was beginning to wash over me as I heard the lock being released….
 
Anthony Spilatro

After grabbing myself a bite to eat, I took a sandwich, some fruit, and a can of soda from the fridge, and made my way to the back room. I undid the lock and pushed open the heavy door.

The room was basically how I had remembered it, some of the more expensive artwork and decorations had been removed, but it was still quite comfortable. There was a king sized bed, two nightstands, a large dresser with mirror, a small sitting table with a couple of chairs, and a large desk. The two windows, on either side of a large bookshelf, with television, and stereo, looked out into the forest, filtering the afternoon sunlight through the large trees and heavy underbrush.

There were two doors on one wall, one leading into a walk-in closet, a room used for storage of clothes that that my family and various guests had left up here, either purposfully, for their next visits or forgotten to pack on previous trips. The other led into a large bathroom, with two sinks on a marble counter, oversized tub, and shower. The double sliding glass doors led out to a small balcony, high above the ground, overlooking the boathouse and lake. These doors too, had barred gates on the outside, and had also been securely locked.

Samntha was sitting upright on the bed, her gag hangling loosely around her neck. She looked defiantly at me as I approached, hiding her fear well, but not completely.I set the food and drink on the sitting table and pulled one of the chairs over near the bed. I straddled the chair, sitting on it backwards, my arms crossed over the back, facing her.

She was beautiful. A mix of strong, defiant supermodel, and scared, cute little puppy dog. If we had met in other circumstances, I might have attempted to get to know her, to charm her, and win her over, but business came first and I quicky, but reluctantly pushed that thought to the back of my mind.

"Well, Miss Warrington, finally we meet, face to face. This is where you'll be staying for your visit, I expect you to treat it with respect, or we may have to come up with some other...shall we say...more primitive accomodations. As you may have noticed, the windows and patio door in the bathroom are barred and locked, so there is no need in testing them, though I quite sure you will at some point. You'll have to make due with what clothes you can find in the closet and dresser, adequate, but surely not up the the standards you are probably accostomed."

I pointed out the television, and stereo, and explained that as long as we had no trouble, they would be left in the room. There was a variety of books and magazines that would surely be welcome in the long hours of confinement to come.

"Your father broke a promise to us Samantha, that's why you're here," I stated bluntly in a serious tone. I'll be getting in touch with him soon, letting him know, that for the time being, you are alive and safe, and depending upon him to fulfill that promise, so that this matter can be put to bed with a happy ending for all concerned. It's only fair of me to let you know, however, that the promise he had made, will now, be even more difficult to keep, so I wouldn't have any hopes of a quick resolution if I were you. That is why I keep impressing upon you the need for cooperation and understanding. If we are to be spending an extended period of time out here, it will be much easier on the both of us the sooner we see eye to eye on this fact. Believe me, my boys out there would like nothing better than to have any reason to well... uhhh... I'm sure you can imagine..."

I watched as her eyes looked toward the door, intentionally leaving her to ponder just what the 'boys', would be looking forward to, and if I had any intentions of keeping them from it.

"I can only reiterate, that it be in your best interest, my dear, to cooperate fully, and not cause any troubles during your stay." I said through a grin, as I reached into my pocket and removed a slim 3-inch, lock blade pocketknife. I slowly reached for the gag, hangining around her neck.

"Now hold still, and I'll get this thing off of you," I said, in a softer voice, as I flipped the knife open, the sunlight glancing off the shiny, razor sharp blade. "I'd hate to cut that pretty neck of yours." I reached up and sliced effortlessly through the fabric which had been used to keep her quiet, tossed it on the dresser, and clicking the knife closed, slipped it back into my pocket.

"I'm Tony, and I plan on staying up here as long as possible myself, kinda enjoy the peace and quiet." I stated as I stood, replacing the chair to the table, "I'm sure you'll have some questions in time, or want to talk, just ask for me. I'll do what I can to make your stay comfortable, as long as you don't try to cross me. Here is a snack, if you're hungry. I'll be back to check on you later." I said as I turned toward the door, "Remember what I've said, you can make this as easy or hard on yourself as you want. I can go either way...
 
Samantha Warrington

I glared at the door way as the heavy bolt was pulled back and watched as the man crossed the threshold.
I met his eyes as he carried a plate with a sandwich and fruit and balanced a can of soda, but looked away as he entered.
He wore shades and I couldn’t see his eyes. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of trying to read his expression.
One of the henchmen, I assumed as I looked pointedly away from him, refusing to watch as he placed the small meal on the table and pulled at a nearby chair.

Reluctantly I found my attention drawn back to him, watching the self assured way he turned and straddled the chair.
His arms rested nonchalantly on the chair back.
He removed his shades and met my eyes, as if trying to read my reactions, my intentions.

”Well, Miss Warrington, finally we meet, face to face.”

I jumped as I recognised his voice.
This was no hired hand, this was the boss himself, the man who had arranged all this, who hid his threats in such sharp courtesy.
I lifted my chin and met his gaze, mine own as chill and defiant as I could make it.
He was taller than I, well built, solid and muscular.
His dark hair was neatly cut.
Everything about him exuded confidence and power.

”This is where you'll be staying for your visit, I expect you to treat it with respect, or we may have to come up with some other...shall we say...more primitive accomodations.”

Still the barely veiled threats.
I let my gaze meet his as he spoke.
The sight of his impassive face and hard dark eyes did nothing to calm my nerves.

”As you may have noticed, the windows and patio door in the bathroom are barred and locked, so there is no need in testing them, though I quite sure you will at some point.
You'll have to make due with what clothes you can find in the closet and dresser, adequate, but surely not up to the standards that you are probably accustomed."


His voice was mocking as his gaze raked over my body.
I listened impassively as he explained that the television and stereo and books would remain for my use as long as I behaved and was courteous and respectful of my accommodation.
I bristled, longing to kick the chair out from under him and trash the place, just to annoy him, but he did not look like a man to cross. He seemed younger than I’d imagined, young enough to have all the power I imagined it took to arrange this abduction and organise his men.
I still could not understand why anyone would go to such trouble, or begin to imagine why I’d been brought here.
As if reading my thoughts, he continued:

"Your father broke a promise to us Samantha, that's why you're here.
I'll be getting in touch with him soon, letting him know, that for the time being, you are alive and safe, and depending upon him to fulfill that promise, so that this matter can be put to bed with a happy ending for all concerned.”


My mind raced.
I was safe, “ for the time being”… this sounded like blackmail rather than ransome.
What could be worth all this? What would daddy do?
I knew we did not always see eye to eye, but as a politician, he was a man of morals, as far as I knew.

Again the voice continued.

”It's only fair of me to let you know, however, that the promise he had made, will now, be even more difficult to keep, so I wouldn't have any hopes of a quick resolution if I were you.
That is why I keep impressing upon you the need for cooperation and understanding. If we are to be spending an extended period of time out here, it will be much easier on the both of us the sooner we see eye to eye on this fact.”


Co-operation? As if I was going to sit like a good little houseguest.
Sure I had to be careful, but… there had to be a way out of here.
Without realising it, my eyes strayed to the windows and the door, wondering how I might try to escape.
My attention snapped back as the cold, almost amused voice taunted me.

”Believe me, my boys out there would like nothing better than to have any reason to well... uhhh... I'm sure you can imagine..."

I looked at him, but was too proud to ask what he meant.
What would the boys like to have reason to do?
I remembered that… touch… in the car… and … wondered if it was in fact only this man who had the power to keep them off me.
I tried not to let the worry show on my face, but wasn’t sure I succeeded.

"I can only reiterate, that it be in your best interest, my dear, to cooperate fully, and not cause any troubles during your stay."

His smug grin all but wiped out my fear.
I glared back at him and whispered softly.

”We shall have to see… shan’t we….?”

His grin seemed to widen.
He moved a hand to his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife.
I flinched back as he moved towards me.
My wide eyes helplessly met his as he reached his hand out and closed his fingers about the discarded fabric of the gag I had temporarily forgotten.

"Now hold still, and I'll get this thing off of you,"

I was surprised that the voice was no longer mocking or threatening.
His gaze seemed reassuring, until he moved closer and whispered in my ear;

"I'd hate to cut that pretty neck of yours."

I gasped, knowing that he was making sure that I knew that he could use that knife if the need arose; and that need would no doubt arise if my father did not do as he was asked.

The blade moved quickly and soundlessly as the sharp blade sliced effortlessly through the material in one deft cutting movement.
The fabric was discarded, the knife carefully pocketed.

"I'm Tony, and I plan on staying up here as long as possible myself, kinda enjoy the peace and quiet."

The introduction was casual as he moved to put the chair back in its place.

"I'm sure you'll have some questions in time, or want to talk, just ask for me.
I'll do what I can to make your stay comfortable, as long as you don't try to cross me.


It seemed he had an idea of at least some of the thoughts that were going through my mind.

”Here is a snack, if you're hungry. I'll be back to check on you later."

I watched him move towards the door and turn.

"Remember what I've said, you can make this as easy or hard on yourself as you want. I can go either way...”

He put a hand out, no doubt to knock as a sign to let one of his “boys” release the latch on the other side of the door.

”Just a minute… Tony… !”

I called out before I could stop myself.
He turned, surprised as I looked up at him cursing the stubbornness that made me call him back.

”This… will never work, you know.”

He waited as if in amused patience for me to explain.

”Whatever it is that you asked my father to do, if it’s illegal or corrupt, as it must be, he’s not going to do it just ‘cos you’ve got me!”

As I spoke, my frustration sparked my quick temper.

”Some men have honour you know, even if they don’t have “muscle” at their beck and call” … not that you’d know anything about that….!”

I spat the words heedlessly at him, my eyes flashing defiance, unaware that I’d voiced my secret fear.
The fear that my father would indeed put his duty and what was “right” above my own worth!
Daddy's job seemed to be more and more important to him nowadays.
Would he let the inconvenience of an abducted daughter hold him back from doing what he felt he “should” do?
As long as I could pretend to admire my father’s high moral standing, his sense of right, I could almost convince myself that I would not feel hurt if he indeed decided not to…. act… as he had been asked to secure my release.

My eyes still locked defiantly on Tony, I let my fears and frustrations erupt.

”Hide behind your knife, your thugs … you’re obviously not man enough to deal with my father face to face… but don’t pretend you’re the genteel host… when in truth you’re just a bully…. “

I move swiftly standing now and cross the room away from Tony, deliberately kicking over the chair as I do so.
It falls with a dramatic, but harmless clatter.
I cross determinedly to the window and turn pointedly keeping my back to him.
The posture is defiant, but in truth I'm trying to hold back the tears.
My breath comes quickly: anger, frustration, panic and fear at what I’ve said and done by deliberately insulting this powerful man.

”If you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave…”

I state with all the dignity I can muster, as if he were a mere caller who had offended me.
The tremor in my voice belies my haughty tone.
I fight for control as my face remains turned towards the now dimming light.

I just need him to leave quickly, before I totally lose my composure…
 
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Anthony Spilatro

Just as I reached for the door, she call out to me...

”Just a minute… Tony… !”

I was pleasantly surprised by her decision to speak, I had been hoping that she would not remain silent and completely obediant. Though that may be easier, I was quietly looking forward to seeing just how confrontational she would become.

”This… will never work, you know.”

Never work? I waited to hear how she thought my plan would fail.

”Whatever it is that you asked my father to do, if it’s illegal or corrupt, as it must be, he’s not going to do it just ‘cos you’ve got me!”

She was becoming more bold as she continued, speaking with defiance and losing the nervousness that I thought would keep her quiet. I couldn't completely mask the grin that was forming as she flung the words at me.

”Some men have honour you know, even if they don’t have “muscle” at their beck and call” … not that you’d know anything about that….!”

I didn't believe for a second that she really thought her father would be so 'honorable' as to leave her at the mercy of the mob rather than do anything he could, illegal, immoral, or otherwise to secure her safety.

I was, in fact enjoying her little tirade, seeing the fire in her eyes, her open defiance in the face of threatened imminent danger. She was turning out to be more strongly willed, self confident, and aggressive than I had imagined. I liked that; it would make things much more interesting and enjoyable. I waited, my grin spreading, for her to continue.

”Hide behind your knife, your thugs … you’re obviously not man enough to deal with my father face to face… but don’t pretend you’re the genteel host… when in truth you’re just a bully…. “

She obviously held her father in the highest esteem. I might just enjoy slowly eroding that impression.

If her intent was to make me angry, which would have been either a stupid or very brave move indeed, it did not have that effect at all. Rather it was was the opposite ,and I was finding myself both intrigued and impressed with her apparent lack of fear and brash demeanor. Here she was, trapped and secluded, at the mercy of me and my 'thugs', not knowing what we were intending to do with her, and yet she had the nerve to speak so strongly against me. I was liking her spunk and determination more and more by the moment. There was something about her; such a pretty, frail, little daddy's girl look about her, but the attitude she was displaying, proved her a much stronger, self assured individual than first impression would have hinted at.

She rose quickly, kicking over a chair, as she moved to look out the window. Her hands on her hips, she spoke, again in a defiant tone.

”If you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave…”

I can hear her voice cracking slightly, and wonder if her determination is begining to wane. I decide not to answer her with anger, or heavy threats, but to stay calm, remind her who is running the show here, but not completely discourage her outgoing attitude.

"Well," I say with a pleasant suprise to my voice, "I see you're not the pretty little quiet type you appear to be. That pleases me. I really hope you're wrong about your father, it would dissapoint me greatly to think he cared so little about you that he would put his public image above your safety. And am I truly to believe that you honestly think there is such a thing as an 'honorable' politician in this country? I may not know your father as well as you, but I do know politicians, and they are no more than the apparently legitimate, high society equivilant of myself and my boys. Thugs and bullies, as I believe you put it, would be a fitting description of your dear father, his cronies and the behind the scenes activities that I'm quite sure they are very comfortable dealing with. He would never have made it as far as he has otherwise."

I paused momentarily, not thinking that she was, in fact, hearing about the dark side of politics for the first time, but, realizing that she had most likely always been hiding the fact that her father was not so unlike me in his professional life.

I moved toward her replacing the chair she had kicked back back at the table, before coming up behind her and puting my hand on her shoulder, brushing back her blonde silky hair.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look quite sexy when your angry?" I said with a smile. "Aren't you afraid that I might have hurt you for speaking to me like that? Do you think you know me that well already?" I questioned her, giving her some things to think about in my absence.

I moved my hand to her chin, taking it firmly between my thumb and forefinger, turning her head to face me. The confident, defiant look had, for the moment at least left her, replaced by one of uncertainty, shaded with a smattering of fear and remorse.

"I will leave you now, but I'm looking forward to getting to know you better. I'm impressed with your spunk Samantha, just be sure not to let it get you into a position you'd rather not be. I smiled, and gave her a wink, before releasing her, and moving toward the door.

I knocked at the door, and could see the light fade through the peephole before hearing the bolt unlock and open. I turned and spoke a final word as the door swung open.

"You seem quite capable of making your feelings known without resorting to abusing the furniture, so I hope for both our sakes, that you won't feel a need to repeat that sort of display again. Enjoy your snack, and I'll be looking in on you later."

I didn't give her a chance to respond, I simply exited the room, and swung the door shut behind me, locking the bolt and smiling as I replayed the exchange that had just taken place...
 
Samantha Warrington

The voice that greets my angry outburst is calm and surprised.

"Well, I see you're not the pretty little quiet type you appear to be.
That pleases me. "


I almost turn round, curious about this response, but manage to keep facing the window.
I make myself stare out between the bars, although there is nothing but trees and bushes to be seen.
Tony continues conversationally.

”I really hope you're wrong about your father, it would disappoint me greatly to think he cared so little about you that he would put his public image above your safety.”

I wrap my arms about me in an unconsciously defensive gesture and remain stubbornly silent.
His words cut to the quick as I hear my secret fear voiced, but I know I must not let him see that.
He must not doubt for a minute that daddy would in fact do as these criminals instructed him to do.

”Do you honestly think there is such a thing as an 'honourable' politician in this country? I may not know your father as well as you, but I do know politicians, and they are no more than the apparently legitimate, high society equivalent of my boys and myself. Thugs and bullies, as I believe you put it, would be a fitting description of your dear father, his cronies and the behind the scenes activities that I'm quite sure they are very comfortable dealing with.
He would never have made it as far as he has otherwise."


I half turned and shot a glare at him as he spoke insulting my father and putting him on a moral parallel with himself. My fathre was no thug, no criminal! How dared this man imply that he was!
With effort, I bit back the comment, the insult I so longed to hurl at this conceited man.

Tony began to walk towards me. Insolently I continue to ignore his presence and keep my gaze locked on the window and beyond.
Still I remained like that as I heard him pick up the chair I had kicked and no doubt put it back into it’s original place.
I sensed him moving closer until suddenly I felt his touch on my shoulder.
I tensed, remained immobile and then felt his hand brushing through my long lose hair.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look quite sexy when you’re angry?"

The words and the caressing tone in which he spoke made me start. A flush of anger and embarrassment at the observation flamed through my cheeks.
He sounded amused as if teasing.
I flicked an unnoticed glance at him as he smiled in the most disturbing manner and continued.

"Aren't you afraid that I might have hurt you for speaking to me like that?
Do you think you know me that well already?"


Still I stood silently not willing to admit that I had been afraid.
I knew that I was fortunate that this man was not quick-tempered and realised that he still might hurt me for my words to him.
He obviously did not understand the angry impulse that had prompted me to speak.
I certainly didn't feel that I knew this man; he was not someone I wanted to get to know, especially when he adopted this disturbingly intimate approach.

Obviously determined that I ignore him no longer, Tony's hand move until it took hold of my chin and with a firm, but gentle persistence drew me round to face him.
He raised my head, forcing me to look into his eyes.
They were expressionless, masked.
A hint of amusement and still something...menacing... could be seen there.
Fear ran through me, wondering what he might do now?
As if in answer to my question he commented:

"I will leave you now, but I'm looking forward to getting to know you better.
I'm impressed with your spunk Samantha, just be sure not to let it get you into a position you'd rather not be.”


I was relieved that he was leaving and relieved that he still did not seem angry, but once again, his calm words ended with the threat, his way of making sure I did not go too far. Making sure that I knew that he could only be pushed too far and as he had implied, I certainly didn't know what the boundaries of his patience and temper were... yet...

I did not return the smile and wink he gave on exiting, but stood watching as he moved towards the door and knocked for the bolt to be released.
In the doorway, Tony turned and caught my eye once more.

"You seem quite capable of making your feelings known without resorting to abusing the furniture, so I hope for both our sakes, that you won't feel a need to repeat that sort of display again."

He reprimanded softly, but firmly.

"Enjoy your snack, and I'll be looking in on you later."

With that the door closed and I remained staring at it.

Moving to the bed now, I let myself drop down, I sat shaking slightly from the effort and emotion of the confrontation.
No matter that he was calm, I knew he was dangerous and that I would have to watch myself around tony.

Finally I lay down exhaustedly.
I curl my legs round and with a hesitant glance at the door, I bury my head in the pillow and allow the long suppressed tears to fall, slowly and silently.

I lose track of time.
I have no idea how long I lay curled in a ball, finally letting the panic wash over me.

The tray of food is untouched.
I am neither hungry nor thirsty.

I pull at the duvet as the room begins to chill.
I close my eyes and dose until the room darkens and still dressed with a quilt pulled half over me, I drift naturally into a deep sleep.

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

When I wake the following day it is the noise of the heavy door closing that rouses me.

Opening my eyes and squinting against the sun that is pouring into my room,
I look up and blink remembering suddenly where I am and wondering what is about to happen to me now...
 
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Anthony Spilatro

I went around to check on her later, after eating a good meal, only to look through the peephole in the door and find her sleeping soundly on top of the bed, with just the quilt pulled around her. I decided to leave her be for the evening and sort out my plans for contacting the senator. I would need a couple of photos, possibly slightly exaggerated as to her condition. Most importantly I would have to convey my demands, without identifying myself. I made a drink, lit a cigarette and opened up my laptop. I browsed around the internet, collecting an article detailing the sentencing of Vincent Romano and Peter Galucci. I then set to typing a short note to the senator..

You've failed us.
Do not let it happen again.
You know what is expected.
It is your move.
Keep it to yourself, for Samantha's sake.
We're watching you.

I called Frankie in the room, and filled him in on my plan for the morning...

"I want you and Ritchie to pay her a visit in the morning. You know how he is, let him have some fun with her but don't let it go too far. Here, take this," I said reaching for and taking the fancy digital camera out of my bag. "You know how to use these things better than any of us. Get some good ones, close ups. I wanna see some fear, and vulnerability on her face. Try to keep Ritchies face off camera but dont worry too much about that, we can load 'em up in here and play around with 'em if we need to." I said, motioning to the laptop on my desk.

"Sure thing Boss, I think I know what you're lookin' for." He said with a understanding grin on his face.

"Good... Tell Ritchie to keep his pants on, but leave no doubt with her as to what could happen if he were to left to his own devices. I've seen the look in his eye that I want her to be aware of. I want her to know that I'm holdin' the reigns on him at the same time."

Satisfied he understood just what I was looking to accomplish, I finished off by telling him to get it done early, catch her before whe had a chance to fully wake and get her wits about her. I figured that would just add to the look I was trying to capture.

"I wanna sit down over breakfast tomorrow and get this package sorted out to send to daddy." I chuckled, finishing off my drink.

Frankie took the camera and left, leaving me to look back on the earlier confrontation with Samantha, a smile growing on my face as I replayed the memory. She was just a pawn in my plan, but I couldn't help but think of how she had made me feel, that look of defiance and disobediance she had displayed, actually attracted me to her.

I was going to enjoy toying with this beauty. I wondered if she was as strong-willed as it appeared, or if it were all a show. I couldn't help but grin as I enjoyed these type of mind games. We both knew I was in control, but I didn't want to wield it too strongly, not wanting to douse that spark of exuberance that had struck me so intriguingly earlier today.
 
Samantha Warrington

The sound of the door closing awoke me.
I remembered automatically where I was, like some terrible nightmare.
It seemed my life was in reverse.
In sleep I’d been peaceful, but as I blinked watching the two tall figures walking purposefully towards me, I wondered if I’d awoken to my own nightmare.

I scrambled to sit up in bed, but was too late.
One of the guys, the one I recognised from the car, jerked back the duvet to reveal my flared black skirt, which had pulled up about my hips. The other man’s eyes were drawn to my flimsy white top, which was pulled towards my still warm body, outlining the natural curves of my form. My sandals lay beside the bed, my legs and feet bare.

I shivered at the sudden loss of warmth and at the sudden appearance of these men in my room. I ran a hand through my hair and looked up at them wordlessly as they stood before me. There mouths quirked in an amused smile, the younger of the two stared openly at my breasts and I fought the urge to reach for the protective cover of the duvet, now laying discarded on the floor.

Unaware of the tear stains still on my cheeks and just what a dishevelled and disturbed picture I presented I flinched as the older guy addressed me in mock politeness.

”Morning, Princess.. so sorry to wake you, but… Ritchie here wanted to know if you’d slept well … “

I turned my gaze to Ritchie who was leering openly.
Ignoring the question and still trying to get my head straight, I turned to the man who had spoken and stammered.

”Wh-what time is it..?”

He laughed, both of them joining in the joke.
I stared not understanding.

”What difference does it make, sweetheart.
It’s time you got to know us a bit better, don’t you think Ritchie.”


The other man did not take his eyes off me, even as he answered his partner.

”Yeah Frankie. We need to get to know each other real well… “

I moved backwards as he moved towards the bed and sat on the end of it.
He raised his hand and touched my hair lightly.
I flinched as I felt his hand on my head and pulled away.
Ritchie’s eyes narrowed, but he looked pointedly down at where my skirt had slid up still further in my attempt to escape.

“Doesn’t seem like she’s the friendly sort, Ritchie… a shame that… and we were being so nice as well…”

Ritchie smiled, his smile conceited and menacing.

”She’ll be friendly alright…. She just needs to get to know us better.. don’t yer honey?”

His voice was soft as his hand once more moved to my head and stroked my hair gently. I sat my eyes on his, unable to move, forced to put up with this intimacy.
Ritchie moved across the room, checking the windows, the bathroom, whilst Ritchie edged closer.
I lay only half upright on the bed as his thigh touched mine, his hands still working softly, his eyes still held mine and I tried desperately not to let my fright show.

”That’s better sweetie…“

His head moved forward and whispered the words in my ear.

" ... you and I are going to get real close… real intimate… “


His mouth moved downwards to kiss and then nip at my neck.
I cried out for him to let me go drawing Frankie’s attention.
Ritchie’s fingers wound into my hair and held me fast, whilst his mouth moved to bite still harder tasting my flesh.

Rather than telling his partner to release me, Frankie merely looked amused and spoke with patient indulgence;

“Careful now, Ritchie, you know the boss said not to leave no marks… leastways not ‘til after the photographs…”

Ritchie slowly released his hold on me and sat up.
I pulled away, only partly relieved and spoke hoarsely.

”What photographs…?”

The flash went off, amking me blink in surprise as Frankie stepped closer to the bed.

”Lil’ keepsake for daddy… let him know how you’re doing…”

He raised the camera again and I moved away from the lense covering my head, determined not make it easy for them.
I knew that refusal was useless, but still I was not going to pose as they wished.

”Now Samantha… that was not very clever now was it.”

Frankie’s patient tone spoke once more.

”Ritchie…”

I gave a cry as I felt the thug pull at my arms and turn my face towards the camera.
I tried to fight him, but he was so much stronger than me.
The camera flashed as I flailed helplessly trying to avoid facing the lense.

Again I head Frankie call his partner’s name and I was released.
I tried to regain my breath glaring in frustration at them as Frankie came to stand beside Ritchie, both of them were looking at the camera and smiling as they reviewed the pictures they had taken. I took the opportunity to slip off the bed and darted into the corner of the room, pulling one of the light dining chairs in front of me as a makeshift barrier.
Frankie looked up amused and did not even acknowledge my flight. He knew there was nowhere I could run and my futile attempts did nothing but amuse him, adding to my frustration and anger.

“Very nice, Miss Warrington …

He waved the camera.

".. not bad for a first shoot… though Ritchie here had some more.. intimate shots in mind… didn’t you Ritchie…?”

I stood watching the two men as they approached.
Their steps unhurried coming ever closer as I shrunk into the corner.
Frankie raised his camera every few steps, clicked… moved nearer and clicked again.
He reached out and took the chair and pulled it towards him, moving it effortlessly away.

I watched their calmness adding to the tension.
I was filled with terror and felt like a trapped animal.

Frankie stopped finally, just beyond grabbing distance, camera in hand and let his eyes rake over my body.

”How long is it since daddy’s seen his lil girl naked…?”

Frankie enquired conversationally.
I gasped and faced him as the camera flashed once more.

”Do you think he’d like to see a photo of you being stripped by your captors Samantha..?”

I heard a moan and looked to where Ritchie had turned the discarded chair and was sat just out of shot.
The camera flashed as I watched in horror as he moved his hands on his crotch, where his hard on was becoming more and more prominent.

”I bet daddy would love a picture of Ritchie here restraining your naked body Samantha…. Ritchie would like that too… wouldn’t you Ritchie.“

I felt sick as I watched Ritchie grin widely and begin rubbing himself as he watched me, no doubt imagining that and more..
My mind raced. I knew that sicko could be capable of anything.

I threw a look at the door, wondering where the hell Tony was. Why was he letting these guys do this to me?
I remembered the words Frankie has spoken to Ritchie – to leave no marks before the photos…
God, Tony knew they were here!

The calm voice, tinged with curiosity and amusement broke into my thoughts.

”Samantha… would you enjoy that…? … would you enjoy Ritchie stripping you and… "

I couldn't bear to hear any more of his disgusting talk.

”Nooo! “

The scream was out of my mouth before I knew it.

The camera clicked again.

Frankie smirked.
Ritchie continued to stroke himself.

In my head I screamed for my father..

"... daddy... !"

As a little girl if I was scared and he wasn't there, I'd hidden my face, under the covers, under the table, anywhere, almost believing that if I couldn't see the secret terror, it didn't exist and hoping that by the time I looked again, the cause of my distress would have gone.

Instinctively, I did the same now.
I turned away, burying my face in the corner.
 
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Anthony Spilatro

I woke early to a bright sunny morning. I had completely forgotton about one of the security features that I had built into the house during the recent remodel. I'd had a series of surveillance cameras placed throughout the property, inside and out. They were small, hidden, and provided a easy way for me to check in on any of the rooms as well as the front gate, entrance, and the boathouse. I had felt it better at the time to tell noone about them. I booted up my laptop, plugged into the network and sat down in front of the keyboard. When the network password screen popped up, I had to scratch my brain for a while before remembering what I had told the security company intallation crew what I wanted to use for a password. Suddenly it came to me...Y-N-O-T...my name backwards.. the computer beeped and up popped the security menu...

I clicked on the security cams tab, and scrolled through the list of rooms, and views that had cameras installed. Selecting 'Guest Room' brought up another list of cameras installed in that room; I selected "Main Room 1', and a 1/4 screen sized window popped up in front of me.

I could see Samantha, pressing herself into a corner of the room, Frankie and Ritchie approaching her, and what the hell was Ritchie doing? Christ, the big goon had his cock out and was stroking it as he approached. I chuckled to myself, having not expected, but at the same time not completely surprised by his action. I was glad I hadn't sent him in alone; he'd probably have already raped the hell out of her by now if I had.

"Well, Samantha, I see you've met Ritchie." I said to the computer screen, a smile breaking across my face.

I clicked on the audio button, next to the scene playing out before me, as I saw a flash of light drown out the picture for a second before it reappeared. The sound wasn't perfect, but I could make out Frankie's voice as I toyed with the volume control.

”I bet daddy would love a picture of Ritchie here restraining your naked body Samantha…. Ritchie would like that too… wouldn’t you Ritchie.“

I couldn't make out the expression on her face, but was sure It was one of disgust and fear. I could see her looking about, trying to pull herself further and further into the corner.

”Samantha… would you enjoy that…? … would you enjoy Ritchie stripping you and… "

Again, it was Frankie's voice I heard calm, and clear. broken by a shreik for the girl...

”Nooo! “

The camera flashed again, just as the sound subsided.

I clicked on the capture button on the screen, capturing a still photo of the scene. I was sure that the photos Frankie was taking would be much more clear, show the fear and anguish in her face, but I was sure a shot like this, with her cowering in the corner, and two thugs hovering over her, one of them jacking off in her presence, would have the intended affect on her father.

I saw Ritchie moving closer to the girl, reach out and grope her breast through her shirt as he continued working his erection.

"Oh, I've been waiting for this ever since I saw you at the fundraiser, Samantha," he grunted. "Does it feel as good for you as it does for me?"

Again Frankie's camera flashed, washing out my screen momentarily.

I clicked the capture button once more, having decided that her initial meeting with Ritchie had served it's purpose and this would be a good time to make an entrance to the room.

I clicked the audio button, and closed the lid on the laptop, leaving the camera streaming in the background. Knowing that Frankie would keep Ritchie from doing any actual harm to the girl, I stopped by the kitchen, filled a small pot with coffee, grabbed a couple cups and made my way to the back room. I opened the door, and stood in the entrance.

"Ritchie!" I shouted, "Put that damn thing away and get over here!"

He jumped at the sound of my voice, releasing her immediately and fumbling, trying to stuff his large cock back into his pants.

"Sorry Boss, I didn't hurt her." He stammered as he approached me, "Ask Frankie, I was just havin' some fun."

"It's ok Ritchie." I almost whispered as he passed, knowing only he could hear me, "I aint pissed at ya, just want her to think I am.

Ritchie hurried out of the room, I sat the coffee and cups on the table, picking up the untouched plate from yesterday.

"I think we got all the pictures we need for now Frankie," I said as I neared the corner where he stood. "Go ahead and leave the camera on the hallway table near my office, and I'll take care of the rest. Here, take this back to the kitchen too will ya?" I handed him the plate.

"Sure thing Boss," he said as he walked past me. "I'll get some breakfast started.

He closed the door behind him, and I turned to Samantha, her face still buried in the corner, sobbing lightly.

"I have to apologize for Ritchie," I said, trying to sound sincere, "He has a thing for pretty girls, and apparently he's taken quite a liking to you."

"I just needed a few snapshots to send your father, and I see Ritchie took things too far. Trust me, he'll be reprimanded for his actions." I lied, wanting her to believe that I was truly upset over his approach.

I stepped back to the table, returning the discarded chair to it's proper place for the second day in a row, and filled a cup with coffee.

"I had thought we could talk over a cup of coffee this morning, but I see you're probably not in the mood for that at the moment."

I sipped at the coffee and walked over to the bathroom, opening the door, and testing the weak lock on the doorknob. I left the door open as I stepped back into the room.

"This lock on this door is still in working order. Perhaps a hot shower and some strong coffee will help. I'll leave the coffee on the table and bring you something to eat in an hour or so. I see you didn't touch your sandwich last night, and you must be getting hungry. Refusing to eat is not going to help your situation any."

I drank from my coffee as I moved away from her and over to the unlocked door.

"I'll do what I can to keep Ritchie away from you. I see no need at this point for you to have had to seen that. I had told my boys to treat you with respect unless you give them some reason to do otherwise."

Opening the door, I stepped out into the hallway, and turned back to the room.

"Get yourself cleaned up, and I'll be back with your breakfast in a while." I said before shutting the door, and securing the bolt. I drank from my cup as I returned to the office. Finding the camera on the small table, I picked it up, sat it on the table, and opened my computer again, watching to see just how Samantha was going to react...
 
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Samantha Warrington

”Nooo! “

The camera flashed again, just as the sound subsided.

I pressed my face into the corner and kept my eyes tightly shut.
My body shook as I willed him, them to go away and leave me alone…
But still he came nearer… I felt his hand on my arm and gasped as he pulled me round to face him.

I shot out a hand to try to push him away, but his own evaded mine and landed on my breast, squeezing it as he continued to stroke himself, exposing his massive, hardening shaft to me.
His hand groped my breast as I whimpered.
His voice was full of lust as his eyes moved over my top.

"Oh, I've been waiting for this ever since I saw you at the fundraiser, Samantha.”

My eyes widened. The fundraiser?
He’d seen me at the fundraiser last night?
How long had this creep been watching me.?
I flinched more as his hand began to grope my breast, moving in unison, with the other hand stroking his manhood.
Ritchie’s voice was hoarse, a mere grunt as he asked.

"Does it feel as good for you as it does for me?"

Again the flash of the camera.

Ritchie moved forward and pulled at my light blouse.

”Nooo… please… “

This time the words were a plea as I begged him to leave me, begged him not to touch me.

”You know you want it babe… “

The arrogant, assured response came back.
I shook my head silently then squealed as he wrenched the material, tearing the garment open and pulling it back to my shoulders, exposing the sky blue bra I’d put on the day before.

As I gave a cry and tried to shield myself from his gaze, but Ritchie’s hand darted out to grab my arm before I could cover myself and once more Frankie’s camera flash filled the room.

Ritchie smirked and pulled my hand towards him.
I realised in horror that he was guiding it towards his now throbbing cock.
I struggled desperately to pull away, the torn blouse momentarily forgotten, determined to avoid touching him…

"Ritchie!"

I jumped at the shout and Ritchie whirled round.
Both of us suspended momentarily, gazing at the figure in the doorway.

"Put that damn thing away and get over here!"

Tony seemed to snap in irritation.
Ritchie finally let go of me and moved away, trying with difficulty to contain himself once more within his trousers.
As soon as I was released I pulled the torn remnants of my blouse together and crossed my arms protectively about me, staying pressed in the corner.
Only then did I realise that tears were streaming down my face.

I turned away from Tony. I couldn’t let him see how terrified I was.
I’d been relieved when he’d first entered the room, but now, having seen how his boys behaved, I did not know yet what the boss might be capable of.

I heard Ritchie giving his excuses to Tony: The hard man now stammering his assurances, all which suggested a dangerous temper behind Tony’s calm façade.

"Sorry Boss, I didn't hurt her. Ask Frankie, I was just havin' some fun."

I glanced over at Frankie, who had finally lowered the camera.
His eyes met mine and moved meaningfully over my body, but he did not move or say a word.
I turned away, hiding my face and body from him, trying to muffle the sob that seemed to lock in my throat.

I heard the door close heavily and realised that Ritchie had left the room.
I shrank back as Tony stood and walked over to the corner.
I feared he might come nearer, but his attention was focused on Frankie.
Tony’s voice was now calm as he spoke.

"I think we got all the pictures we need for now Frankie.
Go ahead and leave the camera on the hallway table near my office, and I'll take care of the rest. “


My mind raced as I pondered his words.
“… take care of the rest… ”
What did that mean?
What was he going to do?
I tried unsuccessfully this time to hold back a sob.

"I have to apologize for Ritchie.

The calm voice explained reasonably.

”He has a thing for pretty girls, and apparently he's taken quite a liking to you."

I glanced at Tony as he watched me as he stood in the room.
Our eyes met, but I looked away as the tears brimmed over.

"I just needed a few snapshots to send your father, and I see Ritchie took things too far. Trust me, he'll be reprimanded for his actions."

I wiped ineffectually at my eyes and nodded, not yet trusting my voice.
Ritchie’s actions were hardly those of a man who had “ taken a liking” to a girl.
His advances and Frankie’s words had terrified me, but Tony frightened me too; in a totally different way.

I turned slightly, still hunched in the corner and watched him move the chair that I’d used as a barricade and that had been moved so easily by my assailants.
I watched Tony pour a cup of coffee.

"I had thought we could talk over a cup of coffee this morning, but I see you're probably not in the mood for that at the moment."

Still I said nothing and watched as Tony moved to the bathroom, the bathroom I had not even examined yet, and seemed to be checking the lock on the door.
He moved back into the room, leaving the door wide open.

"This lock on this door is still in working order.
Perhaps a hot shower and some strong coffee will help.
I'll leave the coffee on the table and bring you something to eat in an hour or so.
I see you didn't touch your sandwich last night, and you must be getting hungry. Refusing to eat is not going to help your situation any."


His words began to spark my anger.
I had fallen asleep exhausted. I was hardly refusing to eat!
I hadn’t been offered any food so far that day anyhow, just been scared out of my wits!
Though I said nothing, my face hardened as I glared at his back as he walked away from me.

"I'll do what I can to keep Ritchie away from you.
I see no need at this point for you to have had to seen that.
I had told my boys to treat you with respect unless you give them some reason to do otherwise."


I didn’t quite believe what he was saying.
I knew he could keep Ritchie away from me, if he chose to.
The threat hadn’t escaped my notice either… “unless I gave them some reason to do otherwise”!
There was no reason for what had happened to me this morning.
If I was going to be treated that way for nothing, then… my mind raced wondering if I could get away from this place… I had no idea at the moment how I might do it…

The voice from the door interrupted my thoughts.

"Get yourself cleaned up, and I'll be back with your breakfast in a while."

I watched the door close and stood frozen for minutes, as if not daring to move.

“Bastard… !”

The word was soft but clear.
Illogically or justly, I blamed Tony for what I’d had to endure this morning.
Either he was not in control of his boys or… he didn’t really care what they did as long as he wasn’t inconvenienced by an hysterical captive.
Next time Ritchie came near I’d scream like hell I decided.
I couldn’t do anything to defend myself, but I’d make damn sure Tony knew about it!

Slowly I moved away from the corner and let my hands drop.
Pulling off the torn blouse and laying the shreds on the bed, I moved to the bathroom.
I looked round in surprise as I noticed the large tub, with jets, shower and large sink.
I moved to what appeared the balcony and pushed against he doors.
I’d known they’d be locked, but I had to try.
I looked out of the barred glass, wondering how high the balcony was and wondering if it was worth the risk of jumping.. if I could smash that glass.. then maybe…

Minutes passed as I tried to think of possibilities, but nothing sprung to mind.
Walking in my bra, panties and skirt still, I moved to the bedroom once more and opened the other door, finding an array of clothes in the closet there.
I reached in and pulled out an oversized jumper and drew it over my head.
I shivered, feeling thoroughly chilled.
Looking over I sat on the bed and poured some coffee… sipping the still steaming brew I sat on the bed and drew my legs beneath me, looking round the room.
I sighed and drank, sipping slowly, trying to warm myself up.
The chill was more internal; the room was hardly cold!

I poured another coffee and sat in the silence of the room.
It tried not to think about my father or Steph or Ned…
I drained the cup and put it down dropping my head into my hands.
What was it dad would have to do?
Would he do it?
How long would I be stuck in this damn place with these perverts as guards?

Again the tears came, silently falling as I drew my knees up shaking silently.
I wanted to go home.
I shouldn’t be here.
I tried to hold back the fears that were swimming in the back of my mind.
These people were not playing games.
I could get… seriously hurt here…

I slipped quickly off the bed.
Needing to do something to stop my morbid train of thoughts.
Tears still falling, but slowing I busied myself.
I moved to the bathroom and turned on both taps of the tub.
I poured in some bath foam and moved back to the bedroom closet.
I searched through drawers by the bed and found an array of garments.
Pulling out a pair of blue cotton leggings a white tshirt and a cotton-denim effect over shirt I laid them out on the bed.
I pulled off the oversized jumper.
I slipped out of my skirt and hung it in the closet.
I returned to the bathroom and carefully locked the door.
Satisfied that it was secure, I took off my bra and leaned to test the water.
I smiled finally, the luxury of the room reminding me of home.
I slipped out of my panties and lowered myself into the steaming bath.

Closing my eyes I gave a sigh as I relaxed, letting the hot water soothe me.
For a short time I would blank my mind and try to let go of the horrors that I was surrounded by …
 
“Bastard… !”

I heard her curse me just as I opened the screen to my laptop. She was still in the corner, but slowly made her way near the bed, pulling off her torn blouse, and revealing a sexy transparent blue bra she was wearing beneath it. I clicked my mouse and took a still photo. She disappeared into the bathroom. Was there a cam in there too? Hell I didn’t remember every position we had gone over months ago, I clicked through the camera menus and found one labeled Guest Bath. Clicking on it gave me a wide-angle view of the room; I could just see her walking back out as it came up.

She found some clothes, drank some coffee and started the bath. I wasn’t really interested in spying on her every move, but thought one nude, or partially nude picture might send a chill down the senator’s spine. I waited for her to return to the bath, lock the door, and strip down before snapping a couple of pics just as she was slipping into the foamy bathwater.

Her body was perfect; I couldn’t help but watch as the water enveloped her young nubile form. I don’t think any breathing red-blooded, man could have. Her tits sat high, round, and firm, and she had an ass any model would dream of.

I watched until she disappeared neck deep into the bubbles, closed down the security software and set about transferring the pictures from the camera into the computer.

I printed out several of what I thought to be the most compelling photos; Ritchie pulling at her, as she flailed, a strong look of fear and anger in her eyes, her cowering in the corner, looking as if she were screaming at the top of her lungs, and the topper, I thought, was one of her, half hidden behind an unrecognizable Ritchie, his hard cock in one hand and him groping at her breasts through her bra under her torn shirt. I added to them a couple of the shots from the security cams, not nearly as high quality, but sure to present a clear understanding of her situation, and the fact that someone could be watching her at every moment.

I put them, along with the note I had earlier printed, into a plain manila envelope, attached an address label, and sealed it securely. I’d have one of the boys drop the package in a mailbox after they returned to town to track Warrington.

I left the office and had a good breakfast in the kitchen. After refilling my coffee, I fixed a plate of bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, and orange juice, and took it back to the guest room. I had just set the plate on the table, when Samantha appeared out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, another bunched up on her head. She let out a startled gasp as she saw me sitting at the table sipping my coffee.
 
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