Read My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 4 Poisoned for Free Online Page B

sure he understood that I didn’t do it on
purpose, and that I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
He would probably laugh at me, then I would laugh back and all
would be forgiven, because I would never have touched Frano, no, no, no, not in a million
years, I’d rather put my hand in an open fire than cheat on Jagger.
Not that Frano would want me anyway, nor would I want
him—
    “ Are you coming in?” Frano
called out, snapping me out of my thoughts.
    “ Sì , sorry.” Balancing the tray
carefully, I pushed open the door and entered. Frano was sitting up
in bed with the sheet covering his lower half and his face sperm
free. I walked over to him and placed the tray on his lap. “Would
you like me to feed you?” I asked.
    He grimaced. “I’m not a
child.”
    “ I didn’t mean to offend,
just you have been hurt and I thought…” I flinched at his glare. “I
apologize, I thought wrong.”
    Frano continued to glare, basically
telling me to get out, which I couldn’t do until he had finished
the soup.
    The phone
rang .
    “ Get that,” he snapped, the man
beyond rude, which was even worse considering I’d brought him his
lunch. I wasn’t a servant, yet did he appreciate it? No. He was an arrogant,
rude ass-hat and a few other unmentionable names. No wonder only
the bitches wanted to stay with him.
    I walked over to the phone and
picked it up. “ Pronto? ”
    A heavily- accented Russian voice
answered, causing my spine to stiffen.
    “ May I speak to
Frano? ” the
Black Russian said, the man the scariest person I’d ever meet. I
had thought the Donatelli were bad enough, but this man was
chilling, just looking at him made me think of death. I’d heard
many horror stories about the Black Russian, from mutilation to
cannibalism. Alberto had said they were lies, and that the Black
Russian had circulated the horrifying stories to install fear in
people, but just looking at the man made me believe the tales,
because he observed people like Hannibal Lecter with a bottle of
Chianti.
    “ I’ll get Frano for you,” I said
to the man. I walked over to the bed and handed the phone to my
brother-in-law. “It’s the Black Russian,” I whispered to
him.
    Grimacing , Frano took the phone, then
indicated for me to go away. “Hello,” he said into the receiver.
His grimace deepened as I sat down on the chair across from him. He
shooed me again, but I shook my head, knowing I had to stay, not
only to make sure he ate the soup, but to find out why the Russian
was calling.
    “ Can you please hold on un momento ,” Frano said into the phone, “I need to get an annoying
woman out of my room.” He covered the receiver. “Out!” he
barked.
    I shook my head again. “Sorry, Frano, but
I must make sure you eat everything. Alberto is concerned over you
losing weight.”
    “ I’ll eat it, so get
out.”
    “ I cannot, Alberto will beat me
if I don’t abide by his instructions.” I touched my bruised cheek
gently, pointing out the evidence.
    “ Then go into the passage
while I’m on the phone, I’ll call for you when I’m
finished.”
    “ Okay.” I headed out of the room, closing the
door behind me, then quickly ran to my bedroom and picked up my
phone, dialing the connection that Alberto had told me to use when
Frano was taking a call. It went through without a hitch, Frano’s
and the Black Russian’s conversation coming over the
line—pleasantries and small talk at first, then the Black Russian
asked the question that I had been dreading: “Why hasn’t Sasha
phoned me?”
    “ That is none of my business,”
Frano replied. “I’m not his keeper.”
    “ In fact, you are. When I loan a
slave, the head of the household becomes their master for the
duration of their stay.”
    “ Sasha’s a slave?” Frano
said, sounding surprised.
    “ Da .”
    “ But ... I thought he was your
lover and the head of the guards.”
    “ He is.”
    “ Sorry for sounding confused,
but how can he be a slave and