The Dungeon (as predicted by Kat)

[TW!! There's an uncomfy scene ahead. This chapter isn't all that important to the development of the story, it's more of a background narrative chapter of Marco's life as a Mafia heir from Katarina's POV, but the events partaking here will be referenced in the future so you can choose to not read it if you want.]

"Come with me, child."

Aurelia DiBiancci had come and summoned me while I was watching Futurama and eating one of my two BLTs in the kitchen. Yes, I know how to make a good sub sandwich, it's not that hard. Where she was summoning me to? No clue, but I grabbed my plate and followed her without a word.

"Since you're probably going to be here a while, I want you to know that our house is your house, and you should see how we do things in Italia," she smiled sweetly at me, but there was a sinister look in her eyes that said she was about to show me something to try and intimidate me. Did everyone in this house have issues?

"Cool, where are we going?" I took a bite of my BLT and looked around as I followed her. We were going down a hallway I'd been through before. The walls were full of family pictures and painted portraits of ancestors. It was a very homey portrait, but the further down we went, the more dark the hallway seemed to become. It was like there was a general lack of light or something.

"You know my great-grandfather had this house built?" She motioned to our surroundings with a wave of her hand. "I had it renovated two years ago. Vincente might put up a face once in a while, but the women rule this business behind the scenes," she opened up a door hidden in the wall that we'd stopped in front of with her fingerprint and motioned for me to walk through, so I did. "I wanted to show you how things work. My husband does the printed work, considering he can't really move like he used to, and he trains Marco. You know Vince is twenty years my senior?"

"no way" my eyebrows furrowed. If he was twenty years older than her, how old was she? He must've had genes of immortality.

"Yes. I know he doesn't look it, but he's fifty-eight. Anyway," we were descending a staircase that reminded me a lot of the one I ascended when I was blindfolded. There were no windows here, and I had to wonder just how deep underground this went. The deeper we descended, the more clear the patterns of cement patching became. I knew exactly what this was, and if the mansion burnt down, the people down there would be completely fucked. "I wanted to show you what Marco does, compared to his father. Vince sits all day, but Marco… he gets the action."

What kind of father made his son get his hands dirty like this? My father always hired spoof members to do his dirty work, and even then, if he had to torture people, it wouldn't be anywhere near the house because the pigs (as we called them) were fond of making themselves out to be heroes and would randomly arrive with their cute little swat teams when I was younger. Ever since then, no evidence of illegality was ever kept inside the house, no matter how hidden.

We came to a stop in front of another door and Aurelia pressed her finger on the smart lock. The device beeped and the thick metal door slid open, but strangely enough, it slid from top to bottom. This wasn't unheard of, it was just surprising to me. Once the slide disappeared into the floor, we stepped inside and went down another hallway. This one had thick metal doors lining each wall, and there were panel windows on every one.

I knew these psychopaths had a dungeon, but under their house? Big yikes. Taking another bite of my sandwich, I followed Aurelia until we came to a stop in front of a door, and she knocked on it. If my guess was correct, I'd probably see someone about to get shot. Thinking this made me regret bringing my food down here.

The door was opened by one of the two guards standing beside it, and upon entry, the first thing that was noticeable is how roomy there rooms were! They were actually the sizes of a master bedroom in a $300k house!

I smiled at the guards and took a big bite of my BLT, this time making sure to not omit the tomato. After inspecting the surroundings, I looked towards the middle where I was a man hanging from his arms, but his arms were behind him, the exact same way I had been strapped up. Marco was standing behind him with his foot on the man's back and a cigarette in his mouth. The man had a grimace and looked like he was trying not to cry.

Marco looked up when we entered and immediately scowled at me. I smiled, blew him a kiss, and took another bite out of my sandwich. "What is she doing here?"

"I'm observing," I replied seriously, waving a hand in a shoo motion. "Don't mind me, proceed with whatever you were doing."

Marco was about to reply when the man croaked out. "Please, help me. Have mercy!"

I looked up at one of the guards and asked, "what did he do? In detail, please."

"He r*p*d one of the girls waitressing in our club after harassing and assaulting her for weeks. He's been spotted with the Brazilians and seemed to be exchanging information with them."

A scoff left me and I took the last bite of my first sandwich. "Good riddanthe," I wasn't raised to talk with my mouth full, but this past week and a have, I couldn't have cared less.

Marco lowered his foot and glared at the guard, "hey! You don't answer to her. Why are you answering her question?!"

"Because I'm Katarina Montenegro, bitch." Enough said.

Marco gave me the finger and returned to interrogating the man. While he was asking questions, I continued to eat in silence, and started thinking about how this wasn't so bad. Marco at least seemed more humane than my dad.

"Why'd you feel the need to r*p* one of my most valuable girls?" Marco grabbed the man's hair and pulled his face up.

"I don't know! I don't know, okay? She's a stripper, why is it so important to you if I fuckec her or not?" The man sounded terrified, and I almost wanted to torture him myself.

"Wrong answer," Marco simply said and took hold of his cigarette after taking a puff from it. It was like he was moving in slow motion as he began to shove it into the man's eye. Gargled screams were all that could be heard, and I immediately became acutely aware of his missing nails and severely warped toes. A chill ran down my spine. This wasn't the worst I'd seen, but it was still gross. My sandwich didn't look so appetising anymore.

Seeing this made me think back to when I was strapped in the exact same position, and my soul couldn't have been more glad that I wasn't tortured. I'd kill myself first if I knew mercy would be in the hands of Marco DiBiancci. His smile sent an even bigger chill down my spine, and the huge reminder that he was a sadist crossed my mind.

But, because I'm Kat Montenegro, my thoughts shifted. Was he also a sadist in bed? Was he into BDSM? The thought of Marco tying up his partners really struck a chord in me, and for the next ten minutes, it was all I could think about.

In fact, I was so deep in my thoughts, that when I zoned back in, Marco was telling the man about his death and why he was dying. The man, one eye completely ruined, toes mangled, legs skinned, fingernails missing, and stripped buck naked, was blubbering and begging for his life.

I had to roll my eyes. To be honest, I'd completely missed the moment Marco literally lit a fire to his chest with his lighter, but that's because I was thinking dirty things. At this point, didn't it make sense to just want to die? Marco had carved his logo into the man's chest with his lighter and I knew for a fact that this man would have it so much worse if he didn't die now. How could it get worse for him, you ask? Marco DiBiancci would find a way.

"I want you to know that your body will be found, right outside Alfonso Quidiaro's door, and I'll make sure he sees you well, because every time that sick fuck decides he wants to be a little adventurous, your image will come into his head, and he'll back out like the pussy he is," Marco grabbed his gun and waved it around for the man to see. The man shook his head with tears streaming down his face. That couldn't be too comfy. "I'll make sure your r*p*st buddies get a good look at you, too, so that every time they even look at a woman wrong, they'll remember what happens when they decide that they can't keep it in their pants for long enough to consider consent, when those women are just minding their own business, you got that?"

Marco was honestly the last person who I would've expected to believe in women's rights, considering he choked me. To be honest, it wasn't that bad, but it could've been better.

"Your worthless maggot self will serve as an example, and everyone will know that I did it. Why are you crying? Haven't you felt enough pain?" Marco looked at the trolley which I hadn't noticed, that had various tools spread out over the top of it. Some of the tools were already bloody. "Do you want more play time?" His smile of genuine glee could almost be measured from ear to ear. "Since you won't tell me what you told Quidiaro, I guess it makes sense."

I watched as he began looking through the tools, but there was a particular saw that he kept picking up and putting down. It was clear that he'd made up his mind about the tool he wanted to use, but was drawing it out for the joy his victim's psychological trauma brought him.

"You see?" Aurelia whispered to me, her eyes fixated on her son. How such a woman could've given birth to him was unfathomable to me. "This is why Vince makes him get his hands dirty. My son loves it. Come on, let's go," she turned and left the room, presumably waiting outside of it for me.

Marco was rambling about how he would use the tools, meanwhile the man was close to passing out, probably from stress. If he passed out, he would probably never wake up, or it would take a very long time, and that was the opposite of the desired effect.

"Your son is a lunatic, and he needs help," I offered, giving one of the guards my sandwich before reaching into his suit and grabbing his hidden gun. I pointed it at the man's genitals and pulled the trigger after deactivating the safety. The man screamed loudly, which made me flinch. I honestly thought he wouldn't have felt that. To cut his screaming short, the next shot went to the middle of his forehead, and all sound ceased. He didn't deserve to die with his personal parts intact.

Marco was staring at the corpse in disbelief, his face identical to a child's whose parent had eaten all their candy right in front of their face. He looked at me, face still surprised, but his eyes were full of rage. I shrugged and gave the gun back.

"You were talking too much.'