17. Salvatore
seventeen
Salvatore
I close my eyes under the rush of the shower and all I can see is blood.
I see the blood all the time. Mine or from the men who had been unfortunate enough to get on my bad side.
But the blood I see most is on my cock. From my wife.
A virgin.
If I said I was surprised, that would be an understatement. What twenty-six-year-old stays a virgin? Is it because of her beliefs or something else?
I should have sent her to her father and made a deal with him. If I knew what I know now, it would have been for the best. My lustful thoughts would have disappeared, and I would never have broken my promise.
When she listed her request, she told me sex was off the table. I just thought she was playing hard to get. I’m not the man who coerces a woman into sex. Even if that woman is my wife. Not that I did that. She climbed onto my lap and pushed herself down my cock. But why do I feel like I coerced her?
My eyes snap open when I feel a presence behind me. I don’t move. What game is she playing?
She rounds me and stands in front of me. Water washes my blood from her, and she looks from me to the wound on my shoulder.
“You’ll need some antibiotics for this.”
I place my hands on the tiles behind her, pressing myself against her. I lean down, leveling my eyes with hers. “Why are you here?”
Confusion flashes all over her face. “What do you mean? You forced me into being here...”
I cut her off. “No, I mean here under the shower with me? You requested this marriage to be on paper. Or was that one of your games?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “What games?” I clench my teeth, not elaborating. She continues. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I hate everything about you. What you represent. And still, there’s something that pulls me to you like a magnet. And I don’t even know you.” She places her hand on my chest over my heart.
And this is why I should have sent her back to her father. But what else could I have expected from a good Catholic girl? A virgin who wants to get to know me?
No, she doesn’t need to know me. We can never happen.
I take her hand from my chest, my voice harsh. “Don’t analyze me, Bella. What you’ll find you will not like, and, therefore it’s better if you don’t know me.” Hurt fills her face, and before I regret what I said, I turn and exit the shower and the bathroom.
“What have you got for me, and it better be good,” I bark, entering my office where Gabriel, Dante, and a few of my men are waiting for me. Gabriel and Dante are in their usual seats. They followed me here. I didn’t need to give them orders; they knew what I needed.
They look at each other before Gabriel speaks. “We have two men, injured but alive. We’re waiting for them to regain consciousness so we can interrogate them.”
I nod, pouring myself a generous amount of drink before taking a seat in my chair. I take a sip of my drink. “What else?”
“We don't have much on the attack, but Marco swiped all the cameras that have caught your car.”
Dante types something on his phone before speaking. “One of them is conscious now.”
I down the rest of my drink, standing. “Let’s go.” I look at Gabriel, raising my hand for him to wait. While the others leave the room, I stop with Gabriel. There are important matters he needs to deal with, and they relate to tonight’s events.
“You need to be in Chicago first thing in the morning. I want details about Sabatini and the men he is working with. You don’t come back without information. And tell Nico if he wants our help, this is the time when he can show his support to us.”
“Are you going to be okay with me being away?” He raises his eyebrows in question, motioning to my wound. “Did you take care of that?”
“I will, and my wound is fine. It’s an exit wound. It will heal.” I walk toward the door before I lash out at him, I know he means well but now I need some space from his rationalism. “Go to Chicago, Gabriel.” I exit my office and follow the others into the elevator, where they are waiting for me.
The clinical white room is designed especially for a situation like this. White tiles from the ground to the ceiling, easy to clean with just water and bleach.
The two men are waiting for me in the room. One man is on the floor, still unconscious, and the other is bound to the chair, trying to get free. I walk toward him, inhaling slowly, calming myself. I grab his hair and lift his head.
For a moment, fear flashes across his face when he realizes who I am. Just as fast as it came, the fear disappears and is replaced with disgust.
But that moment was enough. Enough for me to know I can break him.
“Who are you working for?”
He spits in my face. Fucker. “You will talk,” I say through gritted teeth. “But you can choose how. The easy way or the hard way.”
He sneers in my face. “I will never speak. You will kill me anyway.”
“True,” I say casually. “But you can choose. Do you want a quick death or a slow death?” I lean into his face. “And I’m so angry and deranged that I’ll unleash all of my demons on you, and you will beg me to kill you. But I won’t. I will keep you alive for as long as I need, and not just hours. Maybe days. Even if your heart stops beating, I will bring you back as many times as I can until hell is a better place to be than here.”
He swallows hard, the fear swarming his face again.
I grin widely, letting go of his hair. “Strip him,” I order my men.
He struggles when my men approach him. “You sick son of a bitch.”
I laugh loudly, shaking my head. I take the towel from the table and wipe the spit off my face. The monster in me is unleashed. The one I tried to bury for five years. My demons are awake again, and this time, I’m afraid they will not go away.
I take the knife from the tray beside the wall.
I don’t have to wait long until he’s ready for me.
Another slice across his chest, deep enough to make him bleed, not deep enough to lose a lot of blood. Small angry slices across his skin that hurt more than deeper cuts.
His body is beaten to a pulp, and all he has done is call me names that make me laugh. Calling me names is the last thing I care about. Carving his skin hasn’t scared him either.
I take the pliers. It’s time for some more painful work. Beating and carving his skin was for my pleasure. Now it’s time for him to talk.
After ten pulled-off nails and most of his teeth gone, I can’t let him choke on his own blood before I let him speak.
“Stop, please! I can’t take it.” He gurgles on his blood.
Good. He started to beg a long time ago, but my demons won’t let go. They want all his pain and more begging.
“I told you all I know,” he squeals.
“I know there’s more you are hiding. Tell me everything you know.” I grab his neck, squeezing. His eyes roll to the back of his head, surrendering to my grip.
I let go of his neck. I need him alive. He narrows his gaze, hate dripping from his eyes.
“They were wrong. You are just as your father thought you to be. Merciless. A monster just like him.” He laughs like a maniac.
Anger fills my chest and all of my frustration builds up. My blood boils. I grab my knife, slicing his neck from one side to the other, spraying his blood all over my face.
Filled with frenzied emotions, I leave the room.
My men will know what to do next. I take the elevator back to my suite, my brain spiraling with emotions and disbelief.
Am I like my father? The one person I most despised and did everything I could for the last five years not to be like him.
The sentence ‘they were wrong’ makes me realize I have rats who think I’m not like my father like they wanted me to be. This could be a legit reason for them to betray me and my authority.
I need to find out who is a rat. Who is feeding Sabatini with information, the sooner, the better.
The elevator door opens and I enter my suite, going directly for the liquor cabinet. I pour myself a generous amount of whiskey and drink half of it in one go.
A gasp sounds from the entrance of the living room. I turn to a clearly shocked Isabella, her wide eyes and gaping mouth staring at me. She should know better. This is the life we were born into. One I took over, and the one she tried so hard to run away from. This is what she should expect from me if I’m like my father.
I walk toward her, expecting her to be afraid of me like this, all covered with blood, but she just stands there, looking at me. I stop in front of her.
She snaps out of her trance and takes a step back, her back hitting the door frame. She gasps when I take a step toward her and grab her throat, smearing the blood on my hands over it. Her hand covers mine, trying to free herself. She should be afraid of me. Of the monster inside me. The monster that wants to come out and play.
I squeeze. Her eyes widen as she fights against me. “Are you afraid, Bella?” I caress her face with my free hand, leaving traces of blood. “Is this why you ran away? From a future filled with blood and death?” I ease my hand on her throat. “Are the monsters you ran away from like me?” I lean into her, my face just inches from hers. Her eyes are wet, tears suppressed. “You should have stayed away from me.” I put my lips near her ear, my voice low. “But you are here now and one of my biggest assets. There is no way out of this life for you anymore. You are bound to stay with the monsters hunting you. And I’m one of those monsters.”
She slaps me. “Let go of me.”
I laugh darkly. “How about I introduce you to the real me, Bella?” My hand finds its way under her dress, leaving traces of blood on her thighs until I reach her pussy. I grab violently, making her gasp.
“And who is that, Salvatore? Who is the real you?”
Her body shudders and I pull her panties to the side and push two fingers inside her. I can hear her gasping and saying things I don’t understand. All I can think about is my fingers inside her pussy, satisfying the demon inside me.
All of a sudden, I’m pulled away from her, my hand behind my back in a firm hold.
“Go,” Gabriel says from behind me. She hurries away from me into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Gabriel drags me to the bathroom, opens the shower, and pushes me under the cold spray. I watch as the water washes away the blood and wakes me from my daze, bringing me back to reality.
I raise my head, my eyes clashing with Gabriel’s. He shakes his head and my eyes widen. Flashes of what I did moments ago hit me hard.
What have I done?