CHAPTER 23 #2
He placed his hands on my waist, slowly guiding me down the steps so that I didn’t trip and fall.
We reached the bottom, and an awful stench hit my nose in a wave of warm air. He placed one hand on my shoulder and used the other to flick on a light switch.
My stomach dropped as fear seeped into every part of me.
In front of me, on display, a man appeared—chained to the wall by both wrists.
His entire body was limp. His knees barely touched the ground, and his head hung low.
The top half of his body was bare, whereas his bottom half was only clothed with a pair of wet, bloody jeans.
His feet were crushed and bloody. All ten fingers are broken, lying on the ground.
There were six to eight-inch scars along both arms, shoulders, and his chest.
He lifted his head, and the right side of his face was completely burned off, showing everything underneath his skin. Every—thing .
“Oh my God,” I breathed, jolting back.
Nausea swirled in my stomach and my hands flew to my mouth as I fought back a gag. The man looked up at me with a lazy, weak grin.
“Hello, princess ,” his voice was rough and croaky. Antonio eliminated the space between us from behind me.
My body tensed as he moved the hair off my shoulder, lowering his head to my ear. “Happy?”
My tremulous voice filled the deafening silence. “Did you do this to him?”
“Hm,” he hummed, nodding his head as he pressed his face into my hair, slowly inhaling. “ For you . I did this for you,” he almost clarified, and I closed my eyes, feeling goosebumps spreading all over my skin.
He wrapped both his hands around my waist, and I fearfully gasped at the sudden contact. “Open your eyes, tesoro . Look at the man who hurt you— suffering .”
I bit down on my bottom lip as a tear slipped out, but I immediately wiped it, opening my eyes.
“God, you’re sick,” I murmured, and his arms around my waist tightened.
“Not the reaction you were expecting, huh?” the man huffed in satisfaction. That voice…
He lifted his head, and it all clicked. Sylvester .
My stomach dropped.
No .
I won’t believe it.
The man I met months ago wasn’t the man standing behind me right now. It can’t be. I was overflowing with denial, until realization hit me in an instant.
“ Diavolo ,” the word faintly left my lips, and my heart dropped. She was right. Silvia was right.
He sighed—almost disappointedly— and his breath tickled my neck. “I thought you’d like your little gift, baby ,” he said, walking out from behind me and towards a table I hadn’t noticed had weapons on it. Bloody weapons.
“You thought I’d fucking like this?” I asked, turning to him in disbelief. “You’re torturing a man half to death an—and I’m supposed to like this?” I choked out in frustration.
“Watch your tone,” he warned, lifting a knife as he cleaned it with a cloth.
“Watch my tone?” I sarcastically laughed. “This—this is—” I shook my head and the door behind me opened.
“Oh, stop whining you brat,” Sylvester groaned and I whipped around to face him—brows drawn together. He let out a groan in pain as a knife flew into his side. My eyes widened and I turned to Antonio.
“ You do not get to talk to my girl like that,” Antonio threatened, and walked over to Sylvester. My heart rate picked up as I watched him twist the knife—like it was nothing—deeper into Sylvester’s side.
Footsteps descended the stairs and I turned around, anxiously waiting for whoever it was to appear. Cesar?
“Ah,” Cesar softly said, his eyebrows shooting up. “I see you have decided to show her your secret,” he said and I looked at him in disbelief. He casually walked over to the table and placed a box down on it.
“She can be… persistent ,” Antonio shrugged his shoulders and the two of them both shared a knowing smile.
Sylvester joined in with a little laugh but Antonio’s head snapped down to him, pressing the knife in further, as if to say without words, ‘ Why are you laughing?’
Feeling lightheaded with all the blood surrounding me, I looked back at Antonio.
”I want to go back up,” I swallowed hard and he slightly tilted his head to the side.
“I take it, you don’t like your gift then?” he asked and I looked over at Sylvester who hung extremely still.
“I don’t… I don’t know—just let me go back up.” Yes, Sylvester hurt me, and yes, I want him to suffer. To pay. But this… I can’t think straight.
“You going to try anything stupid?” Antonio asked, caging me in between the stairs and his firm body. He lifted his hand to my face, but I hit it away.
“Don’t touch me,” I tried to steady my voice. His jaw clenched instinctively. I felt my legs go numb, feeling all sorts of scared. Would he hurt me? Would he hurt me the way he hurts Sylvester and whoever else?
He took one final step closer, and I held my arms tightly to my side to prevent them from trembling. “What’s wrong?” he slightly tilted his head to the side, tucking a strand of loose hair behind my ear, and I flinched.
Confusion leaked from his eyes as he scanned my face. “I want to go back up,” I choked out. There’s that look again . The same one he gave me when I told him this was nothing more than an agreement. I didn’t quite understand what it meant.
“Take her up to her room,” he stepped back.
“I can go by myself,” I said with disgust as I turned to Cesar. “I don’t need him to escort me.”
Antonio looked at me reluctantly and gave me a single nod. I turned, but he grabbed my wrist. I didn’t turn around.
He stood with his front pressed to my side as he gripped my wrist. He placed a kiss to the top of my head, and my heart hammered in my chest.
“Anyone who finds out about this will end up dead,” he assured me. “ Anyone .”
My heart sunk at the thought of anyone I love being hurt at his hands.
Without turning around, I snatched my wrist from him and walked upstairs. I got to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I fell back against the door, looking down at my trembling hands. Just breathe.
I tugged the neckline of my t-shirt forward, feeling my lungs burn. My eyes widened, and I rushed to bed, snatching my cell phone. I immediately found Silvia’s name, but I stopped myself, tossing my phone back onto my bed and stumbled back. She can’t know. He’ll hurt her.
I paced up and down my bedroom, running a frustrated hand through my hair. I hesitantly glanced up, looking at my bathroom door. Do it.
My chin automatically trembled as I stared at my bathroom until I gave in, rushing inside.
I dropped my clothes, hopped into the shower, and stepped underneath the warm water. I simply stood there.
This was the man I was going to marry. This man, capable of such vile actions, was going to be my husband. I would wake up with him, live out my day with him, and fall asleep with him.
Was I capable of showing any genuine emotion to someone I feared? Would I be able to accept who he was and one day learn to live with it, or maybe even love him?
He was capable of doing all of this for me. It’s always been… for me . But what about before me? How much had he already done. How many lives had he mercilessly taken?
I stood underneath the warm water, allowing it to sting my skin—no audible sobs, no anger, no fear, nothing.
My skin burned as I squeezed my eyes shut, allowing the steaming water to wrap around me with force. I looked down at my hands through blurred vision, noticing how red my skin had gotten. I bared my teeth, fighting against the burn.
I needed to get out of this house.