Chapter 7
“Take a left,” Raf commands in my ear.
I navigate through the dimly lit passage, doors that resemble cages surrounding me. Everything about this place makes me nauseous. I can handle blood, I can handle torture—hell, I can handle death. But the sense of foreboding that emanates from a place like this one, where I don’t know what I’m going to come across, is worse than any kind of pain.
I haven’t seen Sera in months. I’ve watched from afar and it’s taken everything I have not to come out of hiding to tell her the truth. This plan was meant to keep her safe, but all it’s done is put her in more danger. Luckily, Raf got a hit on Sera’s location from Ronaldo Verdi’s phone, and after that, it was pretty easy to hack into the surveillance cameras in the compound. I knew the man was an idiot, but I didn’t realize how much until now. The fucker basically handed us this compound’s location without realizing because he was too eager to message his mistress as he left here.
Yeah, I’ve been watching all of them, courtesy of Raf’s finest technological set up. I’ve been helping monitor the Verdi’s phones, while Raf ran traces on the family and associates. They made it pretty damn hard to find this place. They did well to cover their tracks, withdrawing contact from those outside of their circle. They would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn’t for Ronaldo’s carelessness.
The asshole is already on my hit list for what he’s been doing to my cousin Luisa, and the fact he’s been stepping out on her with some whore is just another reason to take him down. I’d have swooped in to rescue my cousin by now if I could, but Ronaldo has her under lock and key. From my surveillance, she’s not stepped foot outside the house in months. That’s even if she’s there. She could be somewhere else for all I know. But I’ve made myself a silent promise that once I’ve got Sera back, I’m coming for Luisa.
Family is everything in this life, and the Verdis fucked with the wrong one.
“You sure you don’t want me to call Marchese?” Raf asks.
Rolling my eyes, I press my back against the wall as a guard comes into view from a door lining the corridor.
I aim my gun, exhale silently, and squeeze the trigger.
The bullet slices through the side of his head like butter, the precision of my aim perfectly framed by his blood as he drops to the floor with a heavy thud. He never even saw it coming. And thanks to the silencer on my weapon, nobody comes to his aid, so I sprint towards him, grabbing him by the collar on his combat gear and dragging his body into the open room he just stepped out of.
“Are you trying to say I’m incapable of doing this?” I growl, closing the door behind me to cover my tracks. I grip the handle of my gun tighter as the lights above me flicker in the musty corridor. “I’m pretty sure the six men with bullets in their heads would say otherwise.”
“You know that’s not what I’m saying.”
“Good. Just tell me where to go.”
Footsteps echo from somewhere up ahead, voices traveling my way. I pause, aiming my gun in anticipation. There’s a long stretch of corridor where it splits in two directions. At any point, this plan could go to shit, and the only person who will know anything about this will be Raf. But I’ll be damned if I don’t get to Sera before that happens.
“Turn right at the end of the corridor,” Raf directs through the earpiece.
Following his directions, I flatten myself against the wall and continue down the passage. My heart races with each step I take, my anticipation skyrocketing, apprehension filling every breath. Considering this place was pretty much impossible to locate, their protection isn’t the best. I’ve already taken down six of Verdi’s men, and Raf reckons there can’t be many more than that.
And since this compound comprises two buildings—this being the smaller one— I doubt there will be many more men to take down imminently.
I peer around the corner, spotting two guards. One turns before I can take aim, lunging towards me. It’s almost scary how quick I react, spinning him around to grab his arm and yank it behind his back.
He screams out just as the second guard turns around, eyes widening. Up until now, it’s been single combat, taking out my unsuspecting victims. These two are a little more proactive. But that’s okay, this is what I was raised for. It’s in my blood.
Pressing my gun to the guard’s head, I walk him forward.
The second man aims at me, his eyes narrowed on his friend. I recognize the look in them—he’s uncertain he can kill me without injuring his comrade. He’s wondering whether I’m going to beat him to the trigger. And he has every right to wonder that, because at the last minute, I move my gun to the man’s neck, firing once and letting him drop to the floor before darting towards the other.
Bullets bounce by me, ricocheting off the walls as I zig-zag my path. The fucker catches me with a bullet on my arm as I dive at him, hissing out as I take him down instantly. He swings an arm up, but I block him with my own, the gun clattering to the ground. It gives me enough time to place the barrel of mine under his chin, forcing him to look his fate in the eyes.
“Tell me where she is,” I say through gritted teeth.
The asshole doesn’t even fight me. Pathetic. He just shakes and points his finger behind him, indicating an open door at the end of the passage.
With a smirk, I squeeze the trigger. His blood splatters against the concrete, brain matter spraying outwards. “Thanks,” I mutter, pushing up from the floor. I toss one final glance over my shoulder to check the coast is clear before sprinting towards the end of the corridor.
My hopes scramble the closer I get. The hope of seeing her spurs me on faster until my blood pounds so loudly in my ears that I don’t fully hear the screams echoing from the room until I stop at the door. Cries of panic turn my blood to cement, forcing me to skid to a halt in the doorway.
My lungs seize up as I gape at the scene before me, because right there, on the floor, Sera is crying out helplessly as Luciano fumbles between their bodies. Right now, she’s a stark contradiction to the Bianchi I remember; the girl who refused to give up, the defiant woman who excelled in proving every single stereotype wrong. She’s naked, covered in dirt and blood, though I’m certain not all of it is her own because Giovanni is hanging above a pool of his own blood smeared into the concrete. Tears stream from her eyes as mumbled words tumble from her quivering lips.
“Oh, you’re so pretty when you beg,” Luciano moans, running his tongue over Sera’s face and lapping at the cut on her cheek.
Nausea turns my stomach. I can’t watch much more of this.
I step into the room just as Luciano is about to take what isn’t his, pressing the barrel of my gun to his temple. “I think it’s going to be you begging, Verdi.”
Luciano freezes, surprise catching him off guard. My blood has suddenly gone from a frozen slurry to a boiling frenzy. My breaths escape rapidly, my anger reaching fever-pitch. I have one finger on the trigger, ready to take my shot, and there isn’t one person who can stop me.
“Enzo?” Sera’s weak voice pierces the silence.
I don’t look at her, though. I can’t.
BANG.
Luciano drops on top of Sera, his lifeless body smothering her. I can hear her whimpers beneath him, slowly dissipating as I kick him off. His corpse rolls away to reveal Sera, her body limp, injured, and bare. Averting my gaze, I remove my jacket and wrap it around her, curling her into my arms.
“You’re safe now,” I say against her soft cheek.
“Giovanni,” she rasps, though I doubt she barely knows what she’s saying. Her lashes flutter, but her eyes fail to open fully. Considering she’s been gone for four days, she looks severely malnourished, which only pisses me off further. I look over at her bodyguard, the one who was supposed to protect her, and even though Sera’s out cold, I know what she’s asking of me.
It’s been a week since I rescued Sera. Aside from our first encounter where she threatened me with Levi’s gun, we’ve not seen or spoken to one another. I wish I could say I’m surprised, but the truth is, I knew coming back would be difficult. I knew emerging from the shadows to return to this life would have consequences.
My fists clench as I stare Giovanni down. My anger has hit new waves since I found out that Levi and Luca have been here to see him, and all I want to do is kill the fucker in front of me.
But where would be the fun in that? Torture is my specialty, and I thrive off the screams my captives release.
Unfortunately, Giovanni doesn’t offer me that. He’s mostly silent, aside from the groans of agony that escape every so often. His face is a pummeled mess, I’ve removed six teeth in total—the molars are the most painful. After that, the body becomes numb to that kind of pain, so I’ve had to kick it up a notch. I patched him up as best I could when I rescued Sera. It was more for preservation than to actually help him, because this fucker doesn’t deserve to be saved. I don’t care that his daughter”s life was in jeopardy, because it all comes down to the same thing. He could’ve asked for help.
I twist the tip of the pen knife in my hand. The smallest tools are the most fun. Inflicting the same amount of pain in short bursts, it prolongs the torture, keeping the prisoner alive for longer while letting them endure every facet of pain.
“I love poetic justice,” I murmur to myself as I drag the blade down Giovanni’s cheek, I let the sliver of blood drip down his face. It catches in the crease of his lips, forcing him to shift uncomfortably. When I reach the curve of his throat, my eyes narrow as they focus on his pulse point. It would be so easy to drive the blade deeper, slicing through his carotid artery. It’d be a quick death, but that’s not my end goal. I want him to pay. I want him to feel the pain and worry we’ve all felt from his betrayal.
Giovanni’s breaths are slow, sluggish even. Unfortunately, I can’t see the fear or panic in his eyes that I long to, because they’re swollen shut, his lips split from the impact of my knuckles. But that’s not enough; it’ll never be enough.
Taking a step back, I gaze at my masterpiece. He’ll live for another day. I promised myself four days of torture, since that’s how long Sera was held captive before I found her. It was four days too many for Sera to endure, and I don’t even want to think about what she went through. I still can’t get the image out of my head of how I found her; her broken, bruised body, naked beneath Luciano.
I inhale deeply, closing my eyes for the briefest moment to regain my composure. “You’ve had your four days,” I tell Giovanni. “What’s four more?” I release a sinister laugh before I exit the room, slamming the steel door behind me. Walking through the garage, I march into the kitchen to wash my hands at the sink. Despite my love for torture, it’s a damn messy game. I need to start thinking about more hygienic ways, cleaner ways to cause pain without the rigmarole of the clean up afterwards.
The twins are sitting at the table, cleaning their guns quietly as I get to work on scrubbing the blood from under my nails. It’s like living in a house with kids, and I’m the father they’re told to stay away from. Everyone is avoiding me, and it’s starting to get on my nerves. Raf is the only person who tolerates me, but I can see even that will wear down eventually.
It was easy to ask for his help since he owed Sera from all those years ago. It was a simple task to make him feel guilty, but even I know that me holding that over him plus keeping my secret has taken its toll on him.
“You know he’s not going to talk.”
I freeze, resting my hands on either side of the sink. “What makes you think I want him to, cousin?”
Levi’s footsteps echo as he moves closer. “Then what’s the torture for? We know why he did it, we have Sera back…”
“So you want me to let him go? Let him live?” I growl, my frustration returning far too quickly. I’ve always had a good grip on my emotions. It’s what makes me great at torture. I’m able to detach myself, separate the emotions from the task at hand. But when it comes to Sera, those emotions are far too volatile to handle.
“He’s got nothing, Enz.” Levi’s voice grows closer.
“Good.” My jaw clenches as I turn and glare at my cousin.
“I need him alive.”
My head snaps to the doorway at the sound of her voice, that silken voice filled with anger.
Sera stands tall, wearing a matching two piece suit. It’s red—my favorite color on her, though I’m sure she didn’t wear it for me. She paces into the room, an air of confidence propelling her forward. She snatches the knife from my hands, lifting the point of the blade to my throat. But the act doesn’t scare me. I know she’ll never draw my blood, our relationship is rooted deeper than that. It would take a lot more than simple effort of deceit to destroy what we had. All good intentions aside, she knows she could never do it either.
She scowls at me and I smirk back at her. If there’s one thing I know about Sera, it’s that she’s as stubborn as they come, but she’s also loyal to a fault. Killing me isn’t on her list, though I know she’ll make every effort to ensure I know my place.
Little does she know, my place is by her side. It always has been.
“I said, I need him alive.”
Stepping away, I wave my arm towards the garage door. “He’s still alive. Barely.”
Glowering, she digs the blade into my skin. It’s not hard enough to cut, but the threat is there. “I thought I told you to leave?”
Leaning back against the counter, I let my lips tilt up. This is how it used to be between us; the heated back and forth, the petty bickering that led nowhere. Only now, I’m not so sure she’s playing games judging by the way her eyes shoot daggers at me. “And I thought I told you, ‘no can do’.”
“You have no place here,” she sneers, placing the knife on the countertop. She’s got heels on, but they still don’t give her enough height to be eye level with me.
“I’m your second in command, baby, or did you forget?”
“No, Enzo.” She shakes her head, just as Levi steps to her side. “Levi is my second in command.”
I don’t know why, but those few, brutally honest words slice right through me. She’s not going to make this easy for me, and I suppose I deserve that. I hurt her more than I wanted to. I lied to her when I didn’t want to, and more importantly, I failed her when I was the one person who swore I wouldn’t.
I watch her march towards the door, her hips swaying with every clip of her heels. If she’s in pain—which I know she is— she’s not making is obvious. In fact, it’s as if the past two weeks never happened. Aside from the bandage, her makeup covers up all the bruises. Her hair is perfectly in place, accentuating her no-nonsense attitude. She looks like she’s about to head to a meeting, not in recovery.
She suddenly stops in the doorway, fingernails tapping on the doorframe as she glances back my way.
I hold my breath, hoping she’s going to say something, anything that will offer me just a sliver of insight into what she’s thinking. Instead, she shakes her head, like whatever she wants to say isn’t good enough for me. Her brown eyes drop to the floor, and before I can stop her, she’s turning her back on me.