Chapter 36 Emilio
The Senator’s smile twists into a sneer as he takes in mine and Roman’s clasped hands.
However, I refuse to let go. Instead, I stare at him unwaveringly, thrusting out my chin and refusing to cower.
I did not survive everything I’ve gone through to fold to this man.
I am Death, the co-ruler of the Council, and my Daddy’s Little Monster. Fuck this guy.
“The problem with children is…no matter how well you raise them, you’re stuck with genetics that aren’t purely yours.
And it leads to flaws. In this case, my daughter chose to use sexual torture on you two deviants…
which is weak. It’s ineffective with faggots like you.
You get too much pleasure from it. I see I’ll have to once again correct her errors. ”
“You sound like you’ve never met the joy of your prostate,” Roman quips. I can’t hold back a snort, but fuck, my friend has balls. I’m not sure I’d be that courageous, but hell…
“You’re sickening,” the Senator sneers.
I roll my eyes before yawning. “Seriously? Such a tiring rhetoric. I’m going to agree with Roman. You know…if men don’t do it for you, you could always go with pegging.”
“He wouldn’t know what to do with a woman either, to be fair. I’m surprised he even has kids.” I choke at Roman’s words. Fuck, my friend can be brutal. From the reddening of the Senator’s face, it’s a direct hit.
The Senator snaps his fingers and two guards rush in.
I almost roll my eyes at the man’s high-handed attitude.
Hell, who the fuck does he think he is? Not even Il Padrone acted like that.
He leans closer to us, yet he's still so far away, and snarls, “You’ll regret your attitude. You should be bowing to me. I will be in charge of everything by the time I’m done.
Cecily may not have known what to do with you, but I do.
She was too weak to send out the copies of your deviancy to anyone other than your precious family.
I’m not. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure there’s another video to add to the collection.
Let’s see you try to buy your way out of this media attention. ”
He stalks off and I exchange a glance with Roman.
His jaw is bunched tight, but all I can think about is that I already don’t know how I’m going to face Hollis after I raped someone…
but to have the entire world know too? There are some things money can’t erase, and while public opinion can be manipulated to a certain degree…
some things are irrefutable, even if it doesn’t show the truth.
Roman and I are unceremoniously hauled off after him by the guards.
Sadly, it’s into a room I’m all too familiar with.
The video camera is still set up, but instead of a bed, there’s now a chair in the middle of the room.
One with locks attached. I do spy torture instruments, which would normally make me happy, but I have a really bad feeling about this shit.
I’m kept in the guard’s grasp, while Roman is thrust onto the chair and strapped down. The Senator nods approvingly before turning toward me. He doesn’t say a word, just stares in anticipation. The tension ramps up, and I can’t help but break the stifling silence.
“What do you want from us?” My voice isn’t as harsh as I’d like it to be, and from his smirk, even the Senator can hear the thread of fear in it. Fuck.
He gestures to the table of instruments like a fucking game show host. “Soon I’ll let you out of those chains, and you can demonstrate on your friend the lessons you learned from your ‘master’.
Give us a show so that people can see who you really are.
I’m tired of people buying the narrative that, despite your shadowy organization, you manage to do good.
We are not the good guys. I have no desire to rule with those limitations, and in order to embrace that, first I must tear down the falsehoods you’ve spread.
I imagine, since you’re the so-called Death, you excel at torture… ”
His eyes take on a maniacal appearance, lighting up with bloodlust. Normally, I’m all for bloodlust, but fuck this. I’m not torturing my stabby soulmate. Growling, I snap out, “Fuck you.”
I break out in goosebumps at his gaze, it’s too…
sexual, despite what he says about homosexuality.
With a regretful sigh, he shakes his head.
“No, that doesn’t work for me. You’d enjoy it too much.
This is far better. You can’t tell me Death doesn’t know anything about torture.
The only smart thing you did was getting rid of the old Bosses, especially ones who come up with such… adorable nicknames.”
Hissing, I glare at the asshole. “Hey! I get that nobody loves you, but Il Padrone took the time to get to know each and every one of us. Those ‘nicknames’ are fucking meaningful, and if it’s the last thing I do, you’ll understand exactly why I’m called Death.”
Roman hasn’t said anything, but I can sense his restlessness as he tests the locks holding him in position.
Unfortunately, from the corner of my eye, I can tell they’ve done a good job.
I don’t want to hurt him, but fuck. There has to be a way around this.
Hell, I’d rather it be me in the chair—this will fucking kill me.
Fuck, letting me live afterward is crueler than taking a gun to my head.
“Let me put it this way… If you don’t do it, I’ll shoot him. Now, there’s a chance I won’t kill him outright. But anything I do won’t be treated. Anything you do, will. So, if you want him to survive…” He leaves the words hanging there as sweat beads across my forehead.
I don’t know what the fuck to do. This…this is going to kill my soul. He may as well have asked me to cut my own arm off—hell, that would have been fucking kinder.
I swallow as I turn to look at one of my best friends, the man who has come to mean more to me lately than I ever expected.
Fuck, if that's not love. The type that’s deep enough that maybe it can survive this, if only I’m able to live through it myself.
And right now, as I stare into his eyes, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at myself again.
To hurt this man—my fellow Boss, a twin flame to my soul—is impossible. Yet, somehow, I’m not being given a choice, because a world without Roman shouldn’t exist. Not when he brings so much beauty to it.
“Go ahead,” Roman says softly, a wealth of understanding between us. “I’d rather go through this with you than anyone else. Do what you need to. And remember, at the end of it, we’ll burn this motherfucker down.”
Swallowing, I nod in understanding. The Senator is asking me to do the impossible, to tear my soul in half willingly, but fuck if I won’t do it so that Roman can survive. I just hope it’s true that he’ll forgive me…and that those who love him can forgive me as well.
A gunshot rings out and I jump, whirling around to stare at the Senator. My friend’s exclamation terrifies me, but thank fuck it appears to have been a warning shot and nothing more. Still, my heart is lodged in my throat.
“Get to work, or the next bullet goes in him. And make it good. If I think you’re taking it easy on the fag, I’ll step in. I think you know that won’t be a good idea.”
“You really need to come up with new insults,” Roman mutters, and for a moment, I freeze, worried another bullet will go into him, but the Senator ignores him, waving me on instead.
Trudging back to the setup of tools, I let my eyes drift over the options. I have to strike a delicate balance between hurting my friend without harming him permanently. Fuck. The art of torture is complex, and one I normally excel at. But this? This puts even my artistry to the test.
I grab the pliers and turn toward our asshole captive. “Do you have something like push pins? Or sewing needles? Maybe safety pins?”
“Why the fuck would I have something like that?” He stares at me in disgust, and I try to rein in my temper.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe you actually do things on your own?
Or, hell, know anything about torture.” I shake my head, frustrated.
“Torture is more than having stylish tools. Even the most common instruments can be used to cause maximum pain. For instance, if I pry off his nails and use even a toothpick on the exposed beds, he’ll be in excruciating pain. ”
Instead of looking appalled, as I’d hoped, he merely seems more intrigued. Turning, he looks at one of the guards. Maybe this will buy me time…
“Mickey will have toothpicks,” the man says.
Grunting, the Senator gestures at him, and the guard moves a walkie to his face, murmuring into it.
I ignore the sound of it, trying to handle the emotions crashing inside me.
Fucking feelings. Reaching deep inside, to the lessons fucking Luca taught me on skinning, I empty my mind.
It’s the only way I’m going to get through this.
“Well, you can at least get started.” The Senator prods me and I walk forward, glancing at the camera, the red dot reminding me that this is all being recorded.
I can’t push any words past my throat, but I try to convey my sorrow to Roman.
His slight nod gives me the courage to close the distance between us.
I kneel down and unlace his shoe, before sliding off his sock.
It’ll hurt more using his feet, but at least it won’t impair his ability to grip things later.
Opening the pliers, I arrange it carefully to grip his nail. Taking a deep breath, I mentally say a prayer and then pull up quickly, tearing it off with one savage motion. It’s a clean pull, and thank fuck for that.
Roman’s bloodcurdling scream reaches in and squeezes my heart so tightly that, for a moment, dizziness swamps me.
I shake my head, trying to steady myself.
I wish those fucking toothpicks were here already, because without them, I’m forced to move onto the next toe.
I repeat the motion again and again until three toenails are gone.
“Here.” Toothpicks are thrust at me and I breathe a sigh of relief, glad to be done with tearing off his nails. At least, for now. But this part? This is going to hurt a hell of a lot. From the way Roman cringes, he knows it will too.
My hands fumble as I try to grab one, and several fall to the ground.
I take a moment to force myself to breathe, to steady myself.
Only then do I grasp one. Holding it between my fingers, I glance up at Roman, and once again, beg him wordlessly to understand, to forgive me, even though I know in my heart I will never forgive myself.
Tears have ravaged his face, but he’s still as beautiful as ever. With one simple poke of a toothpick, I destroy myself. Again. And again, I do it. Forcing pain onto someone I love. Hatred like nothing I’ve ever experienced boils inside me, taunting me, telling me exactly how worthless I am.
Fuck. It’s bad enough I raped a stranger, but this?
The utter destruction of the bond between my stabby soulmate and me…
I can’t survive it. I don’t want to. All I can wish is that I was dead.
That I could be buried and never thought of again.
Because I don’t even deserve the energy of cursing my name…
“Fuck!” I’m startled out of my living nightmare by the Senator’s curse, and I quickly discard the toothpick I’m holding, nausea from my very existence making me sweat.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the guard says carefully.
“It’s not on you. If they’ve captured my worthless daughter, they can have her.
Children. Fucking useless. At least, neither of them will be a problem for me any longer.
But we need to implement our exit strategy.
Get the explosives ready. Unlike me, they’re idiotic enough to actually lead a rescue charge.
Hell, maybe Cecily did us all a favor. We can kill them all off in one swoop.
” He turns his cold glare on me, and my skin crawls from it.
“Then go lock these two up again. I’d kill them now, but I think I’d prefer knowing they’re burning to a crisp while desperately waiting for a rescue that will never happen… ”
As soon as I’m grabbed by the guard, the Senator turns and storms off. I fight against his hold, only to end up being hit in the head over it. For a moment, there’s only darkness, but it passes quickly, since I’m awake when I’m dragged into our concrete room and cuffed.
Fuck. I look for a way out as they carry Roman in. He's unable to bear any weight on his foot right now. I swallow down bile as he’s unceremoniously dumped onto the hard ground and locked in. Fuck. We are so screwed. Both guards take off at a mad dash, and we’re left there alone.
“Well, Amico Mio, I’m not sure how we’re getting out of this one,” Roman says between ragged breaths, sweat still pouring off him from what I did.
Clenching my hands into tight fists, I keep my gaze down, unable to look at him. The only thing I can offer him is the one thing I know for certain. “Our men will come. And there’s no explosion that can hold them back. You just need to stay alive until then.”
“We, Amico Mio. We.”
I don’t say anything back. I can’t. Words are useless, because I know the truth.
I should stay here and burn to ashes. I will never be able to face those I love.
I’ll never be able to accept living free after what I’ve done.
No, it’s better if I end here, where my dreams came crashing down, and the sins stained my soul.
But Roman? Roman needs to live… And I’ll do whatever I can to make sure he’s the one that makes it out.