Rita is inundated with questions from Frano:
Why doesn't she have an Italian accent?
Why can't she remember everything?
How did she get to America?
How did she become an FBI agent?
Jagger instead is taking control back and becoming a master again. Can you guess who he's taking as a slave? Camila is going to be furious when she sees who Jagger is focusing on, while Matteo will want to kill Jagger for it. But, Jagger now has the power and will try to force Matteo into betraying Christo and the Padre with promises of giving this person back. Will it work?
New additions to Episode 8: Sophia's and the Padre's viewpoints.
My Masters' Nightmare is a serial that is doing well around the world, especially in Italy, where it has a strong following.
Someone shook me. I tried to open my eyes, but like my body they felt heavy: weighed down, lethargic, and sluggish.
“Wake up, Jagger,” a female voice said.
She sounded young, possibly a teenager.
“Please wake up; I can’t carry you inside.”
I tried to open my eyes again, but they remained sealed shut. The female swore. Hands grabbed my ankles and tugged on me. My body slid across something leathery, then over an edge. My ass hit the ground, which strangely didn’t hurt. It was almost as though I was rolled in bubble wrap, something that made absolutely no sense considering I could still feel her touching me. Maybe I just couldn’t feel physical pain, the drugs I’d taken dulling it into nothingness.
“Merda!” the female swore. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
No matter how much I wanted to reply, I couldn’t.
She exhaled loudly. “Man, you can sleep through anything.”
My wrists were grabbed by small hands. I was swung around, the female grunting as she dragged me across a gravelly surface. She stopped for a moment, no doubt taking a rest, because she was breathing heavily.
“My friends wouldn’t believe me if they knew I had you,” she said.
Had me? Apprehension settled in. Again, I willed myself to open my eyelids, but I felt nothing, not even a flutter.
“You don’t look heavy, but, God, you’re killing my arms, Jagger.” Heaving at me, she dragged me another few feet and then leaned me up against a rough surface. Keys jingled. A moment later, she was pulling me over what felt like a doorstep and onto carpet, my legs hitting something as I rounded a corner.
Already translated. Translated by Veronica Picone
Translation in progress. Translated by Claudio Valerio Gaetani and Viviana Rafaella Gaetani Chinchilla