Chapter 88 Sara's Jealousy and Caesar's Devilish Invitation: I Long for Someone to Save Me

Elena Garcia's POV:

"I'm so tired," I muttered.

I quickly realized turning my head was a mistake. It might've just made things worse between us.

I turned back and shut my eyes.

Marco stayed quiet, gently patting my back, trying to soothe me to sleep.

I had a dream. In it, Marco let go of my hand and said, "I'm sorry."

Francesco showed up looking guilty and mentioned that Marco had decided to re-engage with Sara.

The anger from being deceived jolted me awake.

The bed was still a mess, and I hadn't been cleaned up, but Marco's side was cold. He'd been gone for a while.

The old me would've thought something urgent came up, making Marco leave.

But after seeing Sara at the party and having that dream, I couldn't think straight; my mind was a mess.

I dragged myself to the bathroom and took a quick shower.

The dress was ruined, so I threw on a bathrobe and took a deep breath.

I looked rough in the mirror, with red, puffy eyes. I tried to calm down, but tears still slipped down my cheeks. I quickly wiped them away when I heard a knock at the door.

"Marco?" I called out.

No answer. I frowned, moved to the door, and peeked through the peephole. Outside stood someone unexpected—Caesar. He had two guys with him, and behind him was Sara.

Their voices came through the door.

Sara asked, "Are you sure Marco and that bitch came in here earlier?"

Caesar replied, "I'm sure. When Francesco called Marco away, our people saw him leave this room."

Sara cursed, "Damn it, why hasn't anyone opened the door yet? I hear a woman's voice inside."

One of the guys kicked the door hard, and I covered my mouth in shock, watching them in terror.

What did they want?

I searched for my phone but couldn't find it. Then I remembered I didn't have it with me because I was wearing a dress and had given my stuff to Albert.

I rushed to the room phone and called the front desk. "Please, get me Mr. Marco Bianchi!"

The receptionist said, "Mr. Marco Bianchi? I'm sorry, ma'am, I don't understand. This call is coming from Mr. Marco Bianchi's room, isn't it?"

I said anxiously, "No, I mean he's not here now. I need you to help me contact him. Please, there are people at the door trying to break in. I'm in danger; I need help!"

The receptionist replied slowly, "I still don't understand. Why are you in Mr. Marco Bianchi's room? Are you his companion?"

Damn it! This receptionist was really too slow! I kept asking her to find someone from the Bianchi family or Francesco, but she kept dragging her feet until she heard the door being kicked.

The receptionist called out, "Oh my God! What is that sound?"

"Someone is kicking the door! If you keep delaying, I swear you'll regret it!"

The receptionist quickly said, "Okay, I will help you contact someone from the Bianchi family right now!"

She hung up, but it was late.

I held the phone, warily watching the people who barged in. Sara held a card, still in the act of opening the door.

She rolled her eyes at me and then tossed the room card to the ground. "A bunch of idiots! This hotel is under my father's name. Those receptionists know nothing about the Bianchi family. It was easy to trick them into giving me a room card!"

"So you already had a way to open the door and still let them kick it for so long?" Caesar said, raising an eyebrow at my posture. "And gave her a chance to ask for help."

Sara shrugged, "That phone can only call the front desk. By the time someone comes to help, we'll be done here."

Sara walked up to me, bent down, and grabbed my chin with her hand. Her sharp nails dug into my cheek, and I could feel the pain.

Sara sneered, "Don't move. I really want to scratch your face so Marco won't look at you. You filthy American girl."

"Let go of me! What do you want?" I grabbed her wrist, trying to shake off her hand, but the men grabbed my wrists.

In the struggle, my bathrobe became disheveled, exposing the marks left from my night with Marco.

Seeing these marks, Sara's face turned livid, and she slapped me hard. "You bitch! How dare you seduce Marco!"

I panicked, trying to fix my bathrobe, but my arms were held, and I couldn't move them freely.

Caesar walked up to me, grabbed my breast, and whistled. "Not bad. Did you just make love with Marco?"

"Let go of me! What do you want?" I shouted, glaring at them fiercely, hoping someone nearby could hear me and come to my rescue.

At the same time, I prayed in my heart that Marco would come quickly.

"I'm just here for the fun," Caesar said, squeezing my breast and making me feel humiliated.

"It's Sara. She wants to teach you a lesson. Marco shouldn't have shown his concern for you in front of her. When she gets jealous, no one can bear her rage. I tried to persuade Sara, but I couldn't stop her," Caesar sighed, his tone dripping with insincerity.

What a joke. This bastard showed up with Sara and restrained me. Did he really think I would believe his innocence, especially when his hand was still on my breast?

I said mockingly, "Really? If you take your hand off my breast, maybe your words would be more believable! Or are you trying to argue that you're impotent and..."

As soon as I started to curse, Caesar forcefully covered my mouth with his hand. I could only make muffled whimpers.

Caesar squeezed my breast hard, then had his men gag my mouth with a cloth. Seeing my fierce gaze, he smiled curiously and touched the bite marks on my neck. "But I'm really curious, why are both of my brothers obsessed with you?"

Just like Leonardo said, with his influence, Caesar had some scruples about me. He didn't choke me like before, showing a furious look as if he wanted to kill me. Instead, he was more curious and scrutinizing, like looking at a new toy.

But such humiliation was far harder to accept than death.

Sara looked at her watch and urged, "Caesar, if you want to rape her, go ahead. I think five minutes is enough for you."

Caesar raised his voice. "Hey, I'm not really impotent!" Caesar looked displeased. "If I fuck her, I'm really worried neither of us will make it to see the dawn."

Sara said impatiently, "Oh, really? Then you should hurry up and hand her over to us!"

Hearing this, I realized that the two men holding me were not Caesar's men; they took orders from Sara.

After Sara spoke, they immediately wrapped my head with a bedsheet and dragged me out roughly.

I didn't know where they were taking me, and a huge sense of panic and unease surrounded me.

When my vision returned to normal, I realized I was in the back seat of a car. The windows were covered with some kind of anti-peep film, making it impossible to see outside, and the partition between the front and back seats was up.

After they removed the cloth from my mouth, I urgently asked where they were taking me.

Caesar was still sitting next to me, and on my other side was one of the men who had restrained me earlier.

Caesar replied, "Of course, we're going to deal with you before Marco comes back."

"Marco will notice I'm missing. He'll come looking for me. He won't let you get away with this!" I took a deep breath, trying to find another way out of this mess.

But it was too difficult.

"Really? But by then, you might already be dead. The dead are easily forgotten." Caesar crossed his hands, placing them on his knees. He looked completely unconcerned about my words.

Caesar spoke sarcastically, "Moreover, you're just an American girl, without Italian blood. If Marco is smart, he won't oppose the rest of the family just for someone who, at best, can be considered a mistress."

"I'm not Marco's mistress!" I shouted at him, infuriated by his contemptuous attitude.

"You're not? Are you trying to tell me you're his girlfriend?" Caesar looked at me with ridicule and pity. "Did Marco feed you some lies that made you believe he would go to the ends of the earth for you?"

My heart seemed to stop for a moment. I keenly sensed that Caesar's next words were not what I wanted to hear, but I could only let him continue.

Caesar said mercilessly, "Marco wants to inherit the Bianchi family, which means he accepts the family's long-standing traditions. He must marry an Italian girl recognized by the family. Besides, no matter how many sweet words he said while fucking you, you can only be his mistress. Do you understand?"

I showed a heartbroken expression.

Caesar was satisfied with my expression and laughed heartily. After laughing, he paused for two seconds, looking at me thoughtfully. "If you want someone to save you, I have a good idea. I'm very curious about why you fascinate both Leonardo and Marco. If you agree to be my mistress, I think I'd be happy to save you. What do you think, Elena?"

Under the watchful eyes of Sara's men and my gaze as if looking at a madman, Caesar showed a devilish smile.