CHAPTER 8
Lana should thank me for dragging her out of that shithole. She has no idea where she was stuck.
It’s been a couple of weeks since they arrived, and she only leaves her room if I’m not home. She doesn’t talk to any of my employees or cooks, nor does she talk to my mother.
I don’t know what to do to gain her trust again. Kidnapping her may not have been the best way to win her back. But I had no choice if I wanted her to be presumed dead.
I risked everything that day, even her life, and all she has done since then is ignore me, all because of a bunch of lies. That’s all it took to erase the weeks we spent together, our love, my promises...
She decided to believe those who had been lying to her all her life.
I can’t blame her, though. Given her condition, trust is not something she easily gives out…
yet she did it in the past. She trusted me blindly, and in her eyes, I betrayed her.
I could not deny everything I allegedly did.
A man who spoke exactly like me, along with my own phone, was already in their hands.
Those bastards manipulated everything so she could think I was the one doing what they claimed.
I’m sure they were even capable of sending pictures of someone who looked like me.
The game was all in their favour. This is so frustrating.
I knock on her bedroom door. I can hear her playing with Finn, so I knock four more times.
“I’m going to work; do you need anything?”
She throws something at the door. “To leave!”
I roll my eyes.
I feel terrible every time I go out, considering their situation, but before I allow them outside, even to seek medical help, I need to know they’ll be safe without me. I haven’t found bodyguards who are up to what I need yet.
Like every day on my way out, I look up at Lana’s window and catch her spying on me. Her green eyes lock on mine, burning with longing. There has been a war inside her ever since they arrived.
She can deny it all she wants, but her soul, heart, and body are still mine.
Once in the car, Alonso, my driver, starts the engine. He takes me to a warehouse far from the city, where I gather information by beating the shit out of bastards who fell for my set-ups.
This time, it’s the turn of Alexei, Stefan’s father. Next in line is Erik Müller.
They took away the woman I love. They are crazy if they think they can do it twice and get away with it.
To them, Lana was nothing more than a pawn on the board, but this game is not over.
If anyone finds out she is alive, there will be a hunt for her head and body, and I will not let anyone touch my queen.
I never conducted such extensive research on the Noskov family as I did this past year, not even after my father’s death. All so I could get to this moment.
Every second I spent awake at night was worth it so I could catch this bastard.
I wipe my brass knuckles with a cloth. The light in here is so faint that I’m struggling to catch a glimpse of the arsehole’s face.
I’ll give him credit for his stubbornness. He refuses to spill everything he knows. I broke his legs, I left him hanging by the wrists, I’ve beaten him to exhaustion, and still nothing. I’m running out of patience.
“I killed your son, I killed most of your friends, and now I’m about to kill you; what else do you need to give up?”
He spits blood on my shoe. I punch him hard on the nose again. He whimpers for a few seconds, then he starts laughing.
“Even if you kill me and my children, you won’t save them,” he says in his thick accent. “When you least expect it, the Noskov will come back to—”
I punch him again. He curses in Russian.
“Vuoi scommettere?”9
I pace through the room. I’ve lost count of how many girls I’ve saved with an accent just like his.
My blood boils. How many families have been torn apart because of him? How many girls have died? How many lives have been ruined?
“There’s a seventeen-year-old girl in Italy, isn’t there? There’s another boy in Russia with his grandfather.” I take a trash bag from my backpack. “Do you think they miss their brother? I can make them join him.” I smile and show him the remains of Stefan’s head. “I’ll be quick.”
I drop it and kick it towards him. That’s the only thing I didn’t toss into his pit. I’ve been dreaming of doing this to Alexei, and now he cries and murmurs, “my boy.”
He didn’t even want him. Who he really cares about is Adrik, his youngest. Stefan was the only bastard he recognised because he believed his late wife couldn’t have male children.
“Agatha or Adrik, who would it be?”
He glares at me. Nothing can wipe the smile from my face. It’s been years since I’ve dreamed about torturing him.
I don’t kill children; Adrik is barely thirteen, and Agatha has a son who’s Finn’s age. Alexei doesn’t have to know they’ll be safe until they decide which path to follow.
I’m still waiting for the day that one of the Noskov rebels against them, and I think that moment is closer than I thought.
“Would you hurt an innocent girl?” he yells. “She’s got a child!”
“Is she? Or was she raised to be the same scum as the rest of you? After all, she’s next in line.” I take Stefan’s head and place it on his lap. “Adrik is becoming a headache for Maxim because he knows how messed up his family is. Maybe he’ll work for me instead.”
I smile as I catch a glint of terror in his eyes.
“We’re only following orders, kid.”
“Don’t make me laugh.” I drag a chair in front of him. I take a seat, crossing my arms over the back, and then I take a knife out of my belt. “I saw your son with the girls; some of them had children killed or taken to Erik.”
“As I told you, we’re only following orders.” He forces a smile. “Perhaps you should start with your beloved future father-in-law.”
“But he’s not the only one who takes care of girls, is he? Your own daughter, the one you adore so much—”
“Do not talk about my daughter.”
I snort. “Now you’re worried? What happened when you let Erik have her? Or when you taught her how to behave? What about the times when she was crying and begging for Daddy to stop?
He tries to let go, and I laugh, shaking my head. “Only a sick bastard would take advantage of little innocent girls.” I play with my knife. “I’d be doing that girl a favour by killing you.”
“I bet you’d use her, too.”
I sigh and stand up. I pull the chair away and throw another punch. This one busts his cheek, exposing a bone.
This bastard is fucking sick.
I shake my hand. Blood splatters on his face.
“You’ll give me a name, and I’ll leave you alone.”
He spits away from me this time. “Whatever you do, Cassano, you won’t save your son.”
“Keep a cool head, Dante,” Dad’s voice reminds me.
I grit my teeth. “One name, and you will rest.”
“Erik was always talking about the boy—”
I pull the knife and hold it to his neck.
One cut, and he’s gone.
“If you say one more word about my son, you’re fucking dead,” I hiss through my teeth.
“Cool head.”
He killed you.
“If you saw the amount of money that came for the boy… and his mother? Even I want to try her. There’s nothing better than a broken woman.”
I punch him in the face. He spits and laughs again from the back of his throat.
“Cool head.”
“One. Name.”
“Can you imagine what they’d do to them?”
I bring the knife to his hand and cut off four of his fingers. His desperate screams are music to my ears.
“Fine, I ran out of patience.” I cut off the other four. “Hiding your information will only make things slower for me, not impossible.”
“Your son will be the next one.”
Goodbye, hand.
The idea of slashing his throat is tempting, but it will be a quick death for a worthless prick like him.
I strangle him. His eyes look like they’re about to pop out of their sockets.
“My son will not get through your claws. You’ll have to kill me first.”
He tries to gasp for air.
In a strained voice, he manages to say, “De...clan Byrne. Dublin.”
I remove my hand from his neck, and as he breathes in frantic gasps, I reach over to the weapon cabinet and grab two knives. I suspected Declan for a while; he’s married to the youngest Müller after all, so his slip isn’t much help.
At least there’s no one else involved. Shit couldn’t get more complicated than this. The Noskov family is already the most powerful.
“I gave you the name! Let me go!”
“You’re really stupid if you thought you’d get out of this place alive.”
I approach him from behind and bury them both in his eyes—enough to hurt him, but not enough to kill him.
The bastard screams. I walk back to the cabinet.
I pick up a mace and turn around to beat him until I crush all his bones.
After everything he and his partners have done, he deserves a cruel, painful death.
Not even that will be enough to pay for all the pain they’ve caused so many people and families, including mine.
I wish I could say I’m doing this because it’s the right thing, but I would be lying.
I’ve been dreaming of this moment ever since I saw that grin on his face as he pointed his gun at me.
My father ran to shield me. The pain in his back twisted the face of the man who raised me as his own son.
My father fell to his knees in front of me as Alexei ran away, frightened.
When life left my dad’s eyes, I swore I would take revenge.
My hate grew stronger when Stefan married Lana, and Alexei made sure to let me know he had everything to do with it.
And there is nothing: no relief, no happiness, no pride.
Just emptiness.
He killed my father, and his torture isn’t enough to make up for it. Nothing will bring him back to me. Nothing will bring back the two years I lost with Lana.
Repeated blows with the mace detach his arms from his wrists. It’s not enough. Not even when he takes his last breath, and his mangled corpse is almost unrecognisable.
Mom warned me not to do this. She said it would leave a hole in my heart, and the hatred would only feed the emptiness.
But how do I overcome the fact that Dad got killed because of me?
How do I erase from my head her scream at the sight of her husband’s corpse in my arms?
Or the nights I spent hearing her sobbing?
How do I erase the torture? How do I forget what they did to Lana?
Francesco had no reason to raise me. He didn’t have to trust me with his organisation, and he did. He even gave his life for mine. And what have I done with it? I’ve failed time and time again.
I can’t rescue them all. Mom lived alone for years because she didn’t want to see me. I failed Lana twice. I was about to marry the love of my life, and I got there too late. They took her twice; they took my son. Now that I have them back, Lana hates me.
I’m a failure.
I keep hitting the corpse with my bare hands over and over. Even when his skull fractures, I continue to strike him with my bare hands.
I remove the blades from his eyes and stab him.
It’s not enough.
Even if I watch pigs eat him, it won’t be enough.
“Fuck!”
I stomp on the arsehole’s face as I stand up. He and his son are now one less piece of shit in the world, but they deserved to suffer more. All of them. No torture would’ve been enough.
“... Dante!”
“What?” I turn around.
Ian is staring at me, as if he were disappointed.
“Did he say anything?” he asks, gesturing to the cadaver with his head.
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes at the same time. “Declan Byrne. Look into him and his family. He’s based in Dublin.”
He nods but doesn’t leave. “Are you all right, boy?”
“Yes. I’m tired, that’s all.” Tired, furious. “You did what I asked?”
“Yes. They’re already training separately.”
“Great. Have someone come to clean up. I don’t care what they do with the body.”
He nods. I walk past him and head for the car without talking to anyone. Alonso knows what to do.
Ian was my father’s best friend and his second in command.
He’s been hovering over my every step since he died, and not in a good way.
He’s a nuisance who thinks everything I do is wrong, but I haven’t gotten the courage to fire him.
My father trusted him for reasons I can’t understand—because he’s been trying to gain my mom’s attention, which is disgusting—but he trusted him, nonetheless.
He was useful when my dad died; now I’m just keeping him because the one I want as my right hand is still too young and inexperienced, and because he’s the only one who really knew my father, besides my mom.
It’s nice to remember with him from time to time.
My phone rings with a message, letting me know everything is being handled.
I don’t usually allow others to handle my problems. Some of my men aren’t tough enough for the task.
But since Lana and Finn are under my protection, I try not to spend too much time away.
I don’t want to risk anyone finding out about them and breaking into our home.
As she only comes out when I’m not there, I spend my evenings hanging around outside, in the street, or around the grounds, far from her sight.
But today I want to see them, even for five seconds, before they hide in the bedroom again.
I need to spend time with them.
I need them. Full stop.
While Alonso takes me back home, I light a cigarette and get lost in the memory of every mistake I’ve ever made.
Dad said I shouldn’t torture myself about failures, but he’s no longer here to remind me.
Notes:
9. Wanna bet?