Chapter Seven
Roselyn
M y eyes flutter open, and my head hurts so bad my brain feels like it’s been fried and scrambled in a pan.
I sit up on the fluffy bed and glance around the bedroom. There is a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the manicured lawn. I watch as staff move in and out of the mansion and I gaze around the room, and it’s beautiful. Beautiful paintings and a flat-screen TV hang on the wall, and there’s an oak dresser in the corner.
Closing my eyes, memories of Tommy getting his throat slit burn in my mind. The way his eyes rolled to the back of his head makes me want to empty out my stomach on the cream carpet all over again. I can’t get the sound of his flesh being cut out of my head, nor the smell of copper out of my nose. I open my eyes. This is all my fault. He would still be alive if it wasn’t for me. How stupid could I be to think about protecting myself from Devious? I should have known better that he knew I was plotting to kill him. I should have been a lot more careful when it came to my stupid plan.
Tears trickle down my cheeks hard and fast. A lump forms in the back of my throat, and the room spins, so I lie back on the bed. Staring at the dim light hanging from the ceiling, I want my momma. I need her more than ever. If she were alive, she wouldn’t allow Papa to marry me off for his convenience. Even though their marriage was arranged, she still loved me—even though I’m the product of rape. Mama told me when I was eighteen years old, Papa used to force himself on her repeatedly. She didn’t hate me; in fact, she loved me more than life itself. She told me she wanted me out of the vicious cycle of being trapped in an abusive marriage, yet here I am, following in her footsteps. Maybe if I had gone to Vegas with Nero, then I wouldn’t be in this situation. But if Devious spares my life, I’ll do everything he says. I won’t disobey him or act out. I’ll be his good little wife that he bought me for. Until I plan my escape. I’m not spending my life with him.
There is a knock on the door, and a woman pokes her head inside, dressed in all black, placing a tray of food on the dresser, then she leaves the room.
I don’t have an appetite, so instead, I walk into the spacious bathroom, where I do my business, and I notice a fresh set of clothes are sitting on the counter. I change into them. They aren’t my style but I don’t want to wear the clothes I wore last night.
Normally, with Papa, I could bullshit my way out of trouble, but Devious is a different kind of man from my papa. He’s far worse. I’m dealing with the devil. I’m the one who tried to kill Devious without thinking about the consequences. I’m the one who thought it was a great idea to protect myself from the monster. And now, my fate dangles in his hands. I slap my forehead with my palm three times.
“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”
I fall asleep, wake up again, and I look out of the window and the sky is inky black. The stars shine, and the maid strides in with another tray. She eyes the uneaten food then me, shaking her head. This is my opportunity to try to get her to get Devious to talk to me.
“Hey, what’s your name?”
I tap her on the shoulder, but she won’t even look me.
“I need to get in contact with Devious. Please tell him to come see me.”
She steps around me, heads to the door, so I block her.
“Why won’t you talk to me?” I ask. “Why are you ignoring me?”
“Mr. Cayden told me to not speak to you and only give you food,” she answers.
“What will happen if you speak to me?”
She shakes her head. “He’ll fire me. He hates disobedience. Please don’t talk to me.”
“How do you turn on the television?”
Sighing, she goes to the nightstand, grabs the remote, and hands it to me. “We have every streaming service you can think of.”
Right before she leaves, I offer her my thanks, and I glance at the tray of food.
This time it’s a meaty dish I’ve never seen before, but it smells so good. I cut into the meat and it taste like roast beef. It’s so good I gobble it up so fast that I have hiccups. When I climb into bed, I tuck the blanket over me, and I settle on a trashy reality TV show. I’m not about to live the rest of my life confided to these walls, rotting away.
Regret buries in my chest. I treated the little freedom I had with Papa as if it wasn’t anything. I always thought my life couldn’t get any worse until now. I’m completely at Devious’s mercy, and there isn’t anything I can do about it.
My mind travels to Tommy and how he died because of me. My brain is scattered as I think about the fond memories we had in high school. In high school, he was a jock and popular. And I wasn’t, but I hung out with everyone. Even though I was socially awkward, it didn’t stop other kids from wanting to hang out with me.
I went to a private school with other kids whose parents were rich, and Tommy wasn’t loaded like our famiglia . He used to drive a pickup truck and often told me he wished his parents were rich. I was privileged. He had an autistic brother, who he had helped his mother take care of, and his father owned a small bookstore. He asked me to go to prom, and of course I did. It was a major milestone for me, and I had to beg Papa to let me go. I already knew how my life was going to turn out, and I knew the kids I went to school with had a lot more freedom and choices than I had. When Tommy picked me up for prom in his pickup truck, Papa stared at him in disgust and told me not to get attached because I would not be marrying trash. I didn’t care—I wanted to get away, and I had no feelings for him in that way.
His blood will be on my hands for the rest of my life. Sobbing uncontrollably, I drag my knees to my chin.
“Tommy, I’m sorry,” I whisper.
I’ll never forgive Devious for what he did to Tommy.
Devious
I walk into the dungeon as I roll my neck to meet Aiden. Pissed is an understatement on how I feel about Roselyn trying to kill me. I should have killed her the minute I found out she was plotting against me but my obsession wouldn’t let me. Even though I don’t want any relationship with her, that doesn’t stop me from obsessing over her.
When she was asleep, I took her phone and had Damien hack it. I found text messages between her and Tommy, and then one of my maids told me they saw her carrying a knife to the bedroom. If word got out she tried to kill me and I let her live to tell the tale, my men would view me as weak. Dealing with her is more of a pain in my ass than I thought.
If I’m being honest, she will never escape me.
Aiden kidnapped one of Cashel’s hit men from his home and drugged and dragged him to the second level of my dungeon.
I throw the glass door open, just as Aiden beats the hit man in the face with brass knuckles.
Blood flies, splattering Aiden’s shirt. The hit man’s hands are tied to the arms of the chair, and a sock is stuffed in his mouth. The smell of blood and urine suffocates the air. Normally, I leave the torturing to the underbosses, but I like getting my hands dirty sometimes. I hold my hand up to stop Aiden, and he takes a step back. A wicked grin displays on his face. My brother is far worse than I am. He’s got a thing for bloodlust. He goes into a full sex frenzy after he finishes a killing spree. Me, I’m bloodthirsty. It’s how we both earned our street names. We killed so many people, my mafia runs the city. Everyone knows not to fuck with us.
Aiden wipes his bloodied hands on his white shirt as the hit man scowls at him. He grips the hit man by the cheeks. “The bastard won’t talk.” He pauses. “Look at his face. A face of honor and bravery,” he says sarcastically, tapping his right cheek with the back of his hand.
The hit man’s left eye is purple and swollen shut while his lips are bloody and bruised. Dried blood clings to the top of his forehead.
Cashel and I used to be close friends; a few of our businesses intertwined with each other’s until he fucked my now dead wife. He was fucking her for five years behind my back.
I grab a chair from the other cell, prop it in front of him, and snatch the sock from his mouth. He tries to spit at me, but I move out of the way. I take a seat and lean forward with my elbows on my knees. “Where is Cashel?”
The hit man breathes choppily, and I can smell copper on his breath.
How am I going to torture him?
Personally, I love a knife. You can carve up a body slowly without them dying as long as you don’t cut a main artery. Too easy, though. I want this dickhead to suffer, and I’m still pissed off at my childish wife for trying to kill me, so I’m going to take my anger out on him.
“Carry this bastard to the table,” I tell Damien and Max, who are standing on the outside of the cell. They both slowly untie his hands and feet. Max grabs his hands and Damien his feet, and they stroll to the back of the dungeon. Damien straps the leather belt across his legs, and Max cuffs his arms to the metal table.
“Grab the saw,” I say. Aiden clutches the electric saw from the closet and plugs it into the wall. I grab the other one and plug it up to the outlet.
“You’re going to tell me where Cashel is, or we’re going to cut off all your limbs,” I tell the hit man.
“I don’t know.”
“Suit your fucking self.” I put on a pair of goggles and a face mask, then a full-on clear plastic suit. Aiden does the same as I tap the On button and the sound of the saw blares to life. Aiden and I begin to slice through his arms. I feel his bones vibrating as the machine cuts through his flesh. The sound of the saw drowns out his screams. Blood squirts all over my suit. I’ve never cut a person in half, and the feel of his warm blood everywhere on me is satisfying.
I hit the Off button. The hit man’s face turns white as snow and his lips purple. “Again, where is Cashel?”
His eyes roll to the back of his head, he’s losing a lot of blood. He needs to talk fast before we lose him.
“M-Matteo Rizzo.” His voice is hoarse.
Matteo is my cousin. He was exiled from the famiglia because his nonno killed mine. So, Draco slaughtered his whole famiglia .
“Why would he know where he is?” I ask.
“He buys drugs from him,” he answers.
“I’ll pay him a visit.”
“Are you sure?” Aiden asks.
I nod. “He’ll talk to me.”
“If you say so.”
Aiden hasn’t been fond of trying to make things work with Matteo. My brother holds grudges worse than I do. I glance down at the hit man as the life leaves his eyes.
“Let’s cut up the rest of the body, then dump it on the Irish territory,” I say.
I click the saw back on, cutting off his head. It falls to the floor, and I pick it up, resting it next to his body. Once we finish sawing his body, we wrap the pieces in plastic.
Removing the plastic bodysuit, I toss it in the trash. “Get Charlotte to clean the blood up. I have some business to take care of.”