Chapter Fourteen #2
I headed to my office when I was sure everything was in order. The two guards flanking the entrance nodded as they unlocked the door. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and the faint hum of low music. Dmitri was waiting for me.
He lounged on a black leather chair, a cigar perched between his fingers. Two strippers were entertaining him. One ground on his lap following the beat, and the other swayed sensually by the pole. Dmitri had always chased indulgence, sometimes too much for Bratva’s good.
“Hey,” I said, announcing my presence.
He snapped his gaze to me and grinned with a mix of amusement and mischief. “You’re here.” He smacked the dancer’s ass, sending her toward the pole with a playful swat. “Took you long enough.”
I sank into the chair beside him, lighting my cigar. My eyes fell on the two women. Their lace thongs left little to the imagination, their curves on full display.
Alessia’s face flickered in my mind for a brief moment, unwelcomed. I pushed the thought away. She had no place here.
“So?” I asked Dmitri.
He straightened his shirt as if to regain some composure. A glass of liquor dangled loosely from his fingers. “About the attack.”
“I will handle it.”
Dmitri leaned forward, his interest piqued. “Fuck that. We lost the shipment.”
“I know.” I took a long drag of my cigar.
“Yeah? Why were we not informed?”
Anger threatened to peek, but I hid it. “Elena,” I said, noticing Dmitri’s grin falter. For a moment, his playful mask slipped.
“Elena?”
“Yes. I need everything you know about her,” I said, fully aware that Dmitri and Elena were once close. But that didn’t matter. She was one of my suspects.
Dmitri’s jaw tightened, his gaze darkening as he swirled the liquor in his glass. “I see.”
“It’s either you work with me, or you pack like Roman and leave.”
The silence between us became heavy, broken only by the faint rhythm of the music below. If I weren’t the Bratva boss, he would have pulled a gun on me. Dmitri was short-tempered. He never paused to think, just reacted fast and recklessly.
He exhaled with a nod, his shoulders relaxing. “Fine. I’ll send you what I have. It’s not like you’ll find anything on her.”
My grip on my glass tightened, but I didn’t utter a word. He downed the rest of his drink and stood. “I am leaving.”
He stormed out of the room, his temper flaring like a storm on the horizon. When he left, I leaned back and shut my eyes. Alessia wasn’t entirely useless. The Gallos, Marco, used her to get to her father.
The man worked at a bank where my enemy, Luigi, had once stashed something valuable. I wasn’t wrong about anyone, and needed to look into Elena.
A stripper on my lap pulled me back to the present as she ground against me.
Her fingers danced across my chest, but my mind was elsewhere.
She leaned in to kiss me, but I grabbed her throat, tightening my grip until she let out a small, labored whimper.
Her wide eyes met mine, full of lust and fear.
She didn’t know what I wanted, and truthfully, neither did I.
“On your knees,” I ordered, pushing her to her knees with a thud. She obeyed. But no matter what she did, it wasn’t enough. Nothing was. I ordered the two strippers to leave, and they scurried out.
I rescued Alessia’s father from the Gallos because I planned to use him, and now was the right time to make the call. I pulled out my phone, ready to shift the game in my favor, but something stopped me.
A video feed lit up the screen. It was from the torture room.
Alessia was on the floor, stripped down to just her bra and panties.
Her chest rose and fell in shallow gasps, like even a breath of air was a battle she was losing.
I realized I had left the room’s heating system activated, which prevented air circulation. She couldn’t breathe.
Grabbing my keys, I bolted out. Thirty minutes stood between us, but I had to make it in ten, otherwise she would run out of oxygen.
In less than fifteen minutes, I was in my room. I tossed my bike key and phone onto the bed and rushed to the torture chamber. My thumb pressed against the scanner, and the door unlocked with a mechanical click. I swung it open and stepped inside. The heat hit me on my face.
Alessia lay on the floor, drenched in sweat, her skin flushed a furious red. The searing air clawed at my lungs even in the few seconds I was inside.
I scooped her up into my arms and carried her out. Her head lolled against my chest, her body limp. She let out a labored breath. Each ragged inhale tore through the air like a desperate cry for mercy. I lay her on my bed, brushing her damp hair away from her face.
“Alessia.” She wasn’t moving. Her mouth parted, dragging in broken breaths like each one might be her last.
She was slipping away, fading. I knew this feeling too well. My eyes darted to the mask on the table. I grabbed it and pressed it over her nose, urging her to breathe. But she shook her head weakly, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Alessia.”
Her lips trembled as they struggled to form words. “I…” Her faint voice cracked. She pulled in a jagged breath. “I can’t brea—”
She didn’t finish. Her body went slack in an instant.
“You can.” My voice dropped into a growl as I held the mask firmly over her nose. “Breathe.” I leaned over her, my breath shallow as I mirrored hers, willing her lungs to obey. “Breathe.”
Her chest finally expanded in a deep, shuddering inhale, and I exhaled with her as if her life depended on mine. Her breathing stabilized.
A tear slid from her eye, and my fingers willingly moved to wipe it. Caressing her cheek, soothing her as her body relaxed, I removed the mask, knowing she had what she needed now.
She lay still, no longer fighting. I grabbed the blanket and covered her, letting her rest. She needed it, but I didn’t. I left her side and returned to the torture room.
The door closed behind me, locking with a click. This was my room, the place that reminded me I was dying. The chamber’s heat closed in, tightening its grip around my lungs. It didn’t take long before my breath faltered. My chest constricted, the air turning to fire in my throat.
She didn’t deserve this room; I did. I was the one rotting from the inside, the one death had already marked. I deserved every inch of this suffocating space. To be reminded that something as small as a sickness could bring me to my fucking knees, and no bullet, blade, or enemies ever could.