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The Mafia And His Angel Part 2 (Tainted Hearts) by Lylah James (38)


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alessio

 

The sound of a gunshot was a shock through my body. Everything was silent, cold, as I stared at the piano thinking about Ayla.

And then the silence was gone. Replaced with the sound of a gunshot. I heard a scream. Then another gunshot.

Everything else happened in a blur. My feet acted of their own accord, and I was running out of the piano room without a second thought.

Another painful scream. Maddie’s voice. It was Maddie’s voice.

I followed the scream toward the end of the hall, my heart racing wildly in my chest. I heard footsteps behind me, and without looking, I knew it was Viktor and Nikolay. They were a few rooms away from mine. Without a doubt, they must have heard the gunshot too.

My feet slightly faltered to a stop when I realized the scream was coming from Artur’s room. I felt my eyes widen in panic and picked up my pace. Was the estate under attack?

Fuck no! Not again!

My hands tightened in fists as my body went tight with alarm. I rushed to open the door, my eyes wildly searching around the room, looking for the threat.

The first thing I saw was the broken window, and just for a brief moment, my mother’s face flashed in front of my eyes.

This moment. The gunshot. The screams. It felt so familiar.

My eyes snapped to the floor when I heard a pained whimper. My muscles locked tight as my body went rigid at the sight in front of me.

I almost stumbled back in shock but stopped myself in time as I stared at Maddie in complete horror. My eyes followed the pool of blood surrounding her, and my stomach rolled.

Blood wasn’t something new to me. I was accustomed to blood and the horror that came with it. I made people bleed. I laughed when they bled. Hell, I took pleasure in seeing them begging for their lives as they bled to death.

No, I wasn’t scared of blood. It wasn’t why my stomach rolled and my knees felt weak.

It was this moment, this feeling of déjà vu that made me sick. I saw this when I was seven, when my mother took her last breath.

And now I was seeing it again.

I rushed to Maddie’s side and knelt down beside her before pulling her into my arms. “Maddie?” I choked.

Her next words were filled with pain, but I heard them. Clear as day. They brought another type of pain in my chest. Pain and then anger. So much anger.

“Artur…” she gasped through the pain. “He…is…the…the…traitor…spy…”

Maddie winced as her body convulsed. She stared at me with frightened eyes, begging me. I didn’t have to see my face to know my expression thundered with fury. I felt it vibrating through my bones.

Maddie kept talking even through her labored breathing.

“He…knows,” she broke off and her face twisted, sweat breaking out on the skin of her forehead. Blood dribbled in the corner of her lips.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she tried to speak. “He…knows…where…Ayla…is…”

Ayla. At the sound of her name, my heart picked up a beat. My arms tightened around Maddie.

The numbness was gone. My mind was clear once again. Instead of the coldness seeping through my body, all I felt was burning anger.

“Get him!” I bellowed. I saw Viktor running out of the room. Nikolay jumped out of the window.

I felt hot, my skin itching with the need to kill. To make him bleed.

Artur, one of my most trusted men. How did I not see it? I trusted him, yet he betrayed me. For how long?

He was dying, cold, homeless, starving. But I picked him up, gave him a home. A family. Even when his father was a traitor, I believed in him.

Stupid. So fucking stupid. I didn’t trust people easily, but trusting Artur had been a mistake. A big fucking one.

Shaking my head, I looked down at Maddie. She had to pay the price. Ayla had to pay the price of my stupidity.

Maddie cried in my arms, her entire body shaking with how heavy her sobbing was. She placed her hand over her stomach, right over where the bullet went through.

Closing her eyes, she whispered. Her voice was low, her words so softly spoken. “My…baby…”

What—?

I stared at her, completely horrified.

I heard her wrong. My mind was playing tricks on me. I wanted to ask her, try to clear this confusion, but my tongue felt heavy.

She opened her eyes again. “Baby…my…baby…” she cried in my arms.

There was no mistake. No confusion. My mind wasn’t playing a trick on me. I heard it clearly, and it hurt. The words hurt, and I couldn’t imagine how badly it was hurting Maddie.

My lips didn’t move. I just stared. Even when Maddie was taken from my arms, Phoenix screaming, crying, begging her not to leave him, I didn’t move.

My eyes slowly made their way to Maddie’s stomach, where she was bleeding profusely. There was no way the baby would make it. It was impossible.

Would Maddie even make it?

I didn’t fucking know anything.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when Sam came running into the room. Phoenix carried Maddie to the bed, and I quickly got to my feet.

My blood roared at the unfairness. No, it roared with anger, with the need for answers. I was raging, my body shaking with the force of my fury.

My eyes moved around the room, making contact with Viktor as he rushed into the room again.

I saw the fury, impatience, and worry in his expression. I also knew he was wrestling for control. I was too. We all were.

Artur wasn’t going to make it out alive.

Viktor stared at me and gave me a single nod before walking out again. One nod was all it took to drive me to the point of insanity.

Artur had been captured, and my control had snapped.

Giving Maddie a final glance, I walked out of the room. I didn’t call Phoenix. There was no point. He wasn’t going to leave Maddie’s side now.

Making my way to the basement, I let the fury boil. I let myself feel the anger, knowing it would serve me well later.

Only the anger would keep me going. There was no time for weakness. I pushed the image of Ayla frightened and hurt, Maddie bleeding and close to death, to the back of my mind.

Viktor was waiting for me in front of the door, his expression fierce. He didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. One of our own betrayed us. Someone we trusted and treated as a brother.

But we couldn’t dwell on that betrayal now. There was no time for it. Our only purpose was to get answers and find Ayla.

Viktor opened the door, and I walked inside, my stride confident and purposely. Slow even through my anger.

Artur was tied to a chair, facing me. His head was cast down, but I knew he heard me come in. The way his body tightened gave him away.

Nikolay was standing behind him, a murderous look on his face.

I walked forward, stopping just two feet away from Artur. The room was filled with silence. No words were uttered, but the air was heavy and tensed. Almost suffocating.

I let the silence drag for a few more minutes. Artur grew more tense. It was all a game, a game of dominance, and in that moment, I held the power and Artur was just a pawn.

When I felt myself barely hanging on the thin thread of control, I moved forward. I’d give him credit. He didn’t move or flinch.

Grabbing his chin, I raised his head. He stared at me blankly, completely void of emotion. Fueled by deep hatred and anger, I pulled back and punched him. I heard his nose crunch under the force of my knuckles.

I craved his scream, his blood. When he didn’t make a sound, I punched him again, harder than before. There was a very satisfying sound. Another broken bone. This time he winced, his eyes shutting tight in pain.

I grabbed his throat and squeezed, watching him fight for his breath. His face turned a shade of red and then purple. The cells broke across his skin, tiny red dots as his wide eyes stared at me in panic.

The whites of his eyes turned red as he suffocated under my grasp. His pupils enlarged, and I smiled, watching him struggle for his life, for another gasp of air.

The corner of his mouth was swelling, and there was a laceration over his cheekbone. His nose was already swelling, turning an ugly shade of green.

I pressed my fingers just a little harder, feeling his windpipe. He choked against the pressure building in his throat as it traveled up into his face.

I fought against the urge to laugh at his suffering.

Ayla was suffering because of him. She was innocent, yet paying for something she didn’t deserve. All because of this man in front of me. Whatever was going to be handed to him would never be enough. I would never be satisfied.

When I saw Artur’s eyes rolling back into his head, I pressed one more time before releasing him. His head fell forward, and he coughed dangerously, desperately gasping for his next breath.

His whole body shook with the effort to take in as much air as he could.

When I noticed him getting in control of his labored breathing, I grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. I held his neck against the back of the chair and glared.

“Why?” I simply asked.

One word. One question. Artur was one of my men. He understood how I worked. He understood what I wanted without even asking.

I thought the betrayal would hurt. It did hurt, but I was mostly consumed by anger. The fury clouded my vision and every other emotion.

I had to find Ayla, and Artur was my only hope. The thought of her being in danger and hurt because of someone I trusted sent a wave of pain through my body.

Was it my fault? It was a constant thought in my mind, something that slowly killed me every day since she was taken from me.

“Why the fuck did you do it?” I snarled into his face. He didn’t flinch, but the way his eyes darted to the side betrayed his fear and pain. I knew my gaze promised violence and revenge. My voice shook with it.

When he didn’t answer, I punched him again, quickly losing my patience. “Answer me!”

There was a gash next to his eye, and he winced when my punch landed on it. It looked like Nikolay had already done a number on him.

I looked down at my hand and saw his blood. I wasn’t wearing my gloves, and in that moment, I didn’t want to. I wanted to see his blood on my hands, knowing that he was suffering and in pain.

At the thought of Ayla, I landed another furious punch on his face. I felt my jaw tighten and heard my teeth grinding together. If I could, I would string him up by his fucking intestines for what he had done.

Artur coughed and choked, spitting out the blood that accumulated in his mouth. He glanced up at me through swollen eyes. “You killed my father.”

Oh, I knew this was coming. There was only one reason why he would betray me.

His father betrayed my life, my father, and when I took over as Boss, I killed him. Without any remorse or even an ounce of guilt. I left him on the cold ground, bleeding to death. When I came back at night, his body was already gone and buried.

Artur had been kicked out of the house. He was seventeen. When I found him a few days later, he was starving. Homeless. And alone.

I brought him back into my house. We were friends, brothers not my blood, but still brothers.

I never thought it would come to this. But all this time, I was getting betrayed. For ten years, he betrayed me.

Shaking my head, I pulled away. With my hands behind my back, I glared down at Artur. He finally flinched under the weight of my murderous stare. I felt the corner of my lips twitch with satisfaction.

“You were the traitor all this time?” Viktor growled behind me.

Artur glanced at him and then chuckled. He broke off and whimpered in pain before replying. “Yeah. All this time…it…was me…but…you were too…blind…to see it.”

Nikolay’s face thundered, and he reached forward, punching Artur in the stomach. He doubled over in agony and wheezed through his broken nose.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

Rubbing my face in frustration, I took a deep breath. I couldn’t kill him. Not now. Not until I found Ayla. And I knew he wasn’t going to tell me easily.

My fingers itched with the need to kill him. But for now, I was going to hurt him until he would feel the weight of the pain he caused my Angel.

“Why Ayla? Your enmity was toward us…not her,” Viktor asked, coming to stand beside me.

Artur shook his head. “You are…right. My enmity was with you.” He broke off and gasped. Sucking in a deep breath, he continued in a low painful tone. “I didn’t even know who she was until the day we went to the beach. Alberto might have trusted me, but he was smart. I was never allowed into his house. Only his clubs. But that day, he called me to his house. I saw Ayla’s picture there. I put two and two together, and there you go. She was an Abandonato.”

“That doesn’t explain why you handed her over,” Viktor snapped. When I saw him moving forward in anger, I grabbed his arm, stopping him.

Artur continued speaking. “Alberto wanted her back, and I wanted to make you pay. It was easy. Two birds with one stone. The best way to bring you down was by hitting you with your weakness. And she was your only weakness.”

I stayed silent, forcing my anger into control. If I moved, I would kill him.

“For years I waited, planned. I looked for your weakness. You were a strong motherfucker. Your motto was kill or be killed. And then Ayla came into your life. It was almost too easy,” Artur said through his harsh breathing.

I saw his lip twitch in a small smile as he chuckled dryly. “You only made two mistakes. The first one was to trust me.”

He took a deep breath before delivering the final blow. “The second was falling in love with Ayla. So, you see, in the end…it was your…fault. You let her…become your weakness.”

Viktor reached forward and pummeled Artur with three furious punches. “You fucking bastard!” he roared.

He reached back for another punch, but Nikolay was quicker. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. When I heard Nikolay’s voice, my eyes snapped open.

“Did Alberto know I wasn’t betraying Boss?” he hissed into Artur’s ears.

Artur laughed through his pain. “Fuck…yeah…he knew everything. It was our plan. We’d make you think he believed you, while I was behind your back, giving him the correct information. How did you think he always knew your moves when Nikolay was giving him false information?”

“So it was all for nothing?” Viktor snarled, pulling away in frustration.

Artur nodded. “It…was…obvious. Nikolay was…too…loyal. Even when he was…close to…death…he never spilled…anything.”

He paused, taking in desperate air through his compressed lungs. “He…knew you…would never betray Alessio.” Glancing back at Nikolay, he smiled through his broken lips. “You are…like…a…fucking loyal dog.”

Nikolay’s eyes glowed fiercely with fury. “You little shit,” he spat.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I finally spoke. “Where’s Ayla?”

Nothing mattered. Why Artur betrayed me or how…only Ayla mattered. I fucking hated that I depended on Artur to find her, but there was no other way.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Did you…really…think…it would be this…easy?”

This time, a smile crept his way across my lips. In no way was it a gentle smile. No, it promised only pain.

“No, I didn’t think it would be easy.” I shrugged a heavy shoulder, leaning forward until our faces were mere inches apart. “It’s not going to be easy for you. Not at all.”

I leaned back and nodded at Nikolay. He pushed a white cloth into Artur’s mouth and stepped back, looking at his handy work.

Viktor walked over to the back table and came back with his favorite equipment. Clippers. They usually chopped off the fingers clean and without much effort.

Nikolay also came back with a spiral knife. My favorite.

He handed it to me while I watched Viktor get to work. It started out slow. A few punches, choking Artur, and when he still didn’t talk, Viktor moved to the nails.

It hurt like a son of a bitch. Artur’s screams were muffled by the cloth, but the way his body trembled, it was obvious he was in terrible pain.

He hadn’t lost any fingers yet. Only three nails.

I raised my hand, and Viktor immediately stopped. Nikolay tore the cloth from Artur’s mouth, and he screamed as the pain coursed his fingers and traveled its way through his body.

His hand was strapped to the arm rest, and I saw the way his fingers shook. They were covered in blood, and I chuckled at the sight.

“You want to talk now?” I wondered, looking at his bloody mess.

“Fuck…you…” he wheezed.

“No? You don’t want to?” I taunted. “Okay then. Enjoy.”

Viktor held the clipper over Artur’s index finger, just below the first knuckle.

He waited. Waiting was a form of mental torture. The best way to break someone. Waiting made them tense, more alarmed, and their fear would hold no bounds.

I counted the seconds in my head.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Artur screamed. He bellowed so loud my ears rang. His pain was music to my ears, and I sat down on the chair behind me.

“That was barely a finger,” Viktor muttered as he stared at the bloody knuckle on the floor.

“Make sure he doesn’t bleed to death,” I snapped. We weren’t done with him yet. Not until we had our answers and Ayla safe in our room.

A few minutes passed, another finger lost. One on each hand.

I waited to see if he would talk, but Artur stayed stubbornly quiet. Shaking my head to repress my frustrated growl, I got up and Viktor moved out of the way.

Leaning forward, I grabbed Artur’s chin. “If you talk, this is going to be easy on you,” I warned.

“I…know…you…” he gasped. “Doesn’t…matter…if I talk…or not…I won’t…make…it…out alive…either way.”

I cocked my head to the side, regarding him with curious eyes. “Smart. You’re right. You won’t make it out alive either way. But I’ll make your death quicker if you speak.”

Another lie and he knew it.

When he didn’t speak, I sighed just for a good measure. Taking my sweet time, I strolled around his chair, giving him some time to catch his breath.

I stopped in front of him again. He was staring at his feet, his swollen lips set in a tight, stubborn line.

I lightly dragged the spiral knife down his cheek, not enough to break his skin. But it was enough to let him know what was about to happen next.

When the knife reached his other cheek, I pressed it harder, and blood oozed through the broken skin. He winced but stayed quiet, biting on his lip to stop the scream.

I knew the spiral knife burned where it cut and Artur was probably in agony.

I dragged the knife to his neck, leaving trail of blood. The skin turned red, and I pulled away. His breathing was harsh and labored. Each breath appeared difficult to inhale and exhale.

I moved the knife to his thighs, making cuts as I went. The cuts weren’t too deep, just enough to cause pain that would be unbearable after a few minutes.

“Are you ready to talk now?” I asked after his screams calmed down.

He hissed and glared at me. I shook my head. Nikolay paced the floor while Viktor got to work again.

Two more nails and fingers.

And then I made cuts over his body.

Sometimes we walked out of the room, leaving Artur alone to breathe through his pain. And then we were back. It kept going like that…for hours. Until I started to feel helpless and completely hopeless.

The next time we walked into the room again, Artur’s head was hanging low. It was already morning. For an hour, I paced outside Maddie’s room, debating if I should go in or not.

But guilt weighed heavily on my heart. Instead, I stayed outside.

Then, I was in the piano room, wishing Ayla was there. Another pang of guilt. Another wave of pain.

After an hour of wallowing in self-pity, I walked away and made my way into the basement.

The fury was back in full force. The air smelled of blood. It felt heavy with death and uncertainty.

I stared at Artur, waiting for a reaction from him. When I started toward him, he slowly lifted his head. His face was almost unrecognizable. Swollen, red, a mix of green and purple. Several cuts. Some deep, some barely there.

He stared at me through swollen eyes, and I saw his jaw working. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

He tried again, but it sounded like some gurgling noise. Artur tried to clear his throat and coughed a few times before taking a deep breath.

I saw his throat moving as he swallowed and then tried again. “She…”

My eyes widened, and I stepped forward. “Where is she?” I demanded, my heart accelerating and beating as wildly as a caged bird.

“She…is…” He choked before continuing slowly. “Is…at…my house.”

“Your house?” Viktor growled.

Artur nodded slowly. “That’s…where…Alberto…is hiding.…My house…he u…ses it…hiding…place.”

I raked my fingers through my hair and swiveled around, punching the wall. All this time. She was right under our fucking nose.

“Move out,” I ordered Viktor and Nikolay.

“For your sake, I really hope she’s there,” I told Artur.

He stared at me blankly, but I saw something in his eyes. It almost looked like regret. “She…is…there.”

“Why are you telling us that now? Why wait until you are half dead?” Nikolay questioned.

I wondered the same thing. Artur didn’t answer. He glanced down, and I saw his lips move. No sound was made, but his lips told me what I needed to know.

Maddie.

With a deep breath, I nodded toward my men. They walked out, and with a final glance at Artur, I walked out too.

We met with Phoenix in the hall. He glanced at the closed door, his eyes murderous. “Is he alive?”

“He is. Don’t kill him yet,” I ordered. Just in case he was lying. When Ayla was found, then his death would be signed.

I took a step forward but stopped. “How is Maddie?”

Phoenix let out a pained groan, his face twisting. “Sam took the bullets out. She…is okay.”

Taking a deep breath, he stared at the wall, his eyes filled with so much pain. “But…but the baby didn’t make it.”

Even though I knew the baby wouldn’t make it, hearing the words was still a blow to my chest. I looked down, wishing this wasn’t real. I wanted to tear Artur apart piece by piece.

“Was it yours?” I asked quietly. They thought it wasn’t obvious. But it was. For years, even after whatever happened between them, they still cared. Maybe still loved each other.

Phoenix clenched his fists, and I looked up again. Closing his eyes tightly, he shook his head. “No,” he choked. “No…Maddie…she never…” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Maddie never cheated. She would never do that. The baby was Artur’s.”

With a heavy heart, I nodded at Phoenix. “We found Ayla’s whereabouts.”

He looked at the door. “I can’t leave Maddie.”

“I was never going to ask you to leave Maddie. The rest of us will go.”

He sent me a grateful look, and I walked away. Making my way upstairs, I stopped in the living room when I saw Nina walking into the estate.

She rushed over to us. “Nikolay called.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, wiping my hands with the towel Viktor handed me.

“He told me Artur is the traitor. That little shit,” she growled, her eyes sparking fire.

“He told us where Ayla is,” Viktor muttered.

Nina’s eyes widened. “He did? Where is she?”

“Artur’s house,” Viktor replied. There was no emotion in his voice. No light. No anger. Nothing. I felt the same way.

“I’m coming,” she announced.

“Seriously? Like this?” Viktor retorted, pointing at Nina’s outfit.

She looked down at herself. “Those heels are killer heels. They might come in handy. Who knows?”

“You will be a liability,” Nikolay argued. “We don’t have time to save your ass.”

Nina cocked her head to the side. “Really?”

It happened fast. But the next thing we knew, Viktor was on the floor with Nina’s legs wrapped around his neck.

“What the fuck was that? I didn’t say anything,” Viktor snapped.

“Still think I’m a liability?” she spat, her voice holding venom.

She got up and looked at me. “Another body to protect Ayla,” she added, raising an eyebrow at me. She knew I couldn’t refuse that. “I think you will need a woman with you when you find her.”

Viktor stood up and glared at Nina’s back. “Bitch,” he mouthed.

Staring at Nina, I saw her resolve and finally nodded. She was right. The more bodies to protect Ayla, the better. And Nina was far from a liability. She was more of an asset. A killer who could easily take anyone.

I walked out, followed by Nikolay, Viktor, and Nina. A few of my men were already waiting next to the cars. I got in without a word while Viktor took the driver’s seat.

The drive to Artur’s house was tense.

When the car came to a stop, I quickly stepped out. This time, Nikolay and Viktor took the lead, while Nina and I stayed in the rear.

Nikolay crashed the door open, and we were inside in mere seconds.

As soon as we stepped inside, guns were blazing and bullets were flying.

The fucker! He was ready, and he wasn’t alone.

His men surrounded the house, and I quickly ducked, avoiding a bullet which could have pierced my head. I growled in frustration and shot at the man in front of me, my bullet going right through his heart.

I didn’t have time for fucking child’s play.

Turning around, I fired at any men who came into my path. Bullets in their legs, some in the neck, and a few in the head.

Through it all, Alberto was nowhere to be found. A coward. Of course, he was nowhere to be found.

When most of his men were down, I nodded at Viktor and Nikolay. They searched through the house as I continued to gun down the rest of the men, Nina beside me doing the same. She was ruthless in her attacks. Her bullets pierced their bodies with an astonishing ferocity.

I saw a man standing in front of me, pointing his gun at my chest. I pulled my trigger, but nothing happened.

A gunshot echoed across the wall. I expected a fiery pain in my chest, but when I saw the man drop dead, I glanced at Nina beside me.

She rubbed her gun against her leather pants and sent me a wink. “You’re welcome.”

Viktor ran down the stairs, his expression frantic. “Ayla is not there.”

Nikolay came to stand by my side. “I searched the first floor. She isn’t there, either.”

“What?” I bellowed, my body shaking with panic, fear, and lastly rage.

“Look everywhere! She has to be here!”

I looked wildly around the living room, moving from the kitchen to the dining room. Then the bedrooms upstairs. I searched every corner of the house.

When I didn’t find her, I searched again. Frantically. Desperately. I searched again and again. She had to be here.

My Angel was nowhere to be found. Again.

I was standing in the middle on the living room, my head pounding, my chest aching. She wasn’t here, but I felt her. It was an unexplainable feeling, but as soon as I had stepped in the house, my heart had accelerated. Almost as if it knew Ayla was here.

I felt her. My skin prickled with a strange sensation, and I closed my eyes. No, she wasn’t here. We looked everywhere, but she wasn’t here.

My heart felt heavy in my compressed chest, my lungs hurting as I breathed through the agony of failing yet again.

Ayla. Ayla. Where are you?

I heard a scream.

“Boss!”

“Alessio!”

My eyes snapped open, and I stared at a man pointing his gun at me. I didn’t have a chance to raise my gun or even move out of the way. I tried to duck, falling to the ground, and then the gunshot rang through my ears.

A few seconds later, I felt a searing pain run through my right leg. “Fuck!” I bellowed.

I heard a shout and then a scream of pain behind me. I looked down at my leg to see it bleeding where the bullet had gone through.

Still on the floor, I turned around to see Nina pulling out her heel from the man’s chest. “Fuck you! Those were Louboutin heels. Now it’s covered in your dirty blood.”

She glanced back at us. “You okay, Alessio?”

“Just a nick,” I muttered back. It was lie. The bullet had gone through my leg and was now lodged inside.

Nina noticed us staring, and she glanced back at her bloody heel. “What? I told you it comes in handy. I was out of bullets.”

“So you just throw your heel at a man, hoping it kills him?” Nikolay asked as I stood up, ignoring the burning in my leg.

“Pretty much,” she replied, taking off her other heel and standing up barefooted.

“What do we do?” Viktor asked me, his expression forlorn.

I ignored his question, my eyes roaming around the house one last time. We looked everywhere. Did Artur lie?

Or maybe Alberto had already taken Ayla away? I had never wanted to hurt someone so bad in all my life as I did right there.

I let out a harsh, barking laugh. It was empty, void of any emotion. I was going to lose my mind if I didn’t find Ayla soon.

I limped away, but my feet twisted in the rug, and I almost went down. I quickly straightened myself and glanced down at the fucking rug, wanting to tear it apart with my bare hands.

But something else caught my eye, and all thought of tearing the rug apart was gone.

The rug was bunched around my feet, and underneath was a wooden door. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and I pushed the rug away completely.

I heard Nina gasp.

The rug wasn’t there for decoration. It was there to cover something—to hide a fucking door in the floor.

Viktor swore under his breath, looking at the closed door.

“There’s no basement. We checked,” Nikolay added, his eyes wide.

“What the fuck is this door then?” I growled. Without waiting for an answer, I bent down and opened the heavy latch. When it came undone, I pulled the door open, and it hit the floor with a loud bang.

“Stairs,” Nina muttered. “What the hell? It leads to a basement.”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t even if I tried. My tongue felt heavy, my body numb. She was in there. I knew it. I felt it.

Nikolay came to stand in front of me and turned his phone on, putting on the torch. I took the first step, my heart racing, pumping wildly.

We descended the stairs in the dark, only Nikolay’s and Viktor’s phones used as flashlights. As soon as we reached the landing, Nina pressed her hand against the wall, looking for a light switch.

A few seconds later, the basement was illuminated.

The basement was incomplete. No wall or tiles. It looked more like a fucking dungeon.

My legs trembled as I took a step further inside. Another step. A few more and I stopped.

A foul smell touched my nostrils, and I shuddered. The smell was horrible. It was almost impossible to breathe. It smelled like days of piss and vomit. Ayla. Was my Angel here? In this place?

My heart squeezed painfully, and I stepped forward on shaky legs. The further we ventured in, the worse the smell got.

I heard Nina gag behind me. “I think I’m going to be sick,” she gasped.

“Fuck, what is this?” Viktor growled.

I wasn’t dying. I was very much alive, but in that moment, it really felt like I was dying. The thought of Ayla being in a place like this was almost unbearable.

When I finally reached the far side of the basement, I stopped dead in my tracks, my stomach twisting painfully.

“No,” I whimpered, my eyes widening at the sight in front of me.

When I heard them swear behind me, I knew they were seeing what I was seeing.

She was turned away from us, facing the wall. I didn’t see her face, but I knew it was her. I felt it in my heart.

She was there. My Ayla. She was right there in front of me. She was lying on the cold hard floor, pushed against the wall. There were chains around her ankles and wrists.

And she was barely covered, her white dress ripped until nothing covered her body.

“No. No. No!” I rushed forward, ignoring the burning ache in my leg. Falling down beside her, I was too afraid to even touch her body.

Ayla looked so fragile. So small. So broken. She’d lost weight, some of her bones practically showing. I reached forward and gently pushed her greasy hair out of her face.

Her face was covered in dirt, and it appeared slightly bruised.

“Ayla?” I whispered brokenly, softly touching her cheek. So cold. She was so cold, freezing.

My heart stuttered, and I frantically looked behind me. Their faces were masks of horror. “She’s cold. She’s so cold,” I repeated.

I looked back at Ayla, my mind and heart going crazy. Agony coursed through my body. It hurt. Everything hurt. It wasn’t my leg, but it was my heart that hurt the most.

My Ayla. My sweet Angel.

She laid frozen, so still. Too still.

I felt my heart break. When I lost her, I thought I was in pain. But now…now I knew what real pain felt like.

And my Angel went through worse than that.

“Angel,” I whispered, leaning next to her ear. “It’s me. Alessio. I’m here now.”

A small guttural cry escaped my lips when she didn’t answer. I was desperate to see her beautiful green eyes. To hear her sweet voice.

I needed her.

And I knew, she needed me just as much, if not more.

I couldn’t protect her. I’d failed her, and the thought felt like a bullet through my heart. I had been careless, and she had to pay the price.

My eyes pricked with unshed tears, and I slowly leaned forward. As gently as I could, I wrapped my arms underneath Ayla.

I gathered my Angel in my arms and pulled close to my chest. Her hair was matted with vomit and other things I didn’t even want to think about.

I rocked back and forth, holding her to me, begging her to open her eyes.

I gently pressed my arms over her body, looking for any other bruises. My vision blurred as everything hit at once. All her pain and suffering. Her face was turned toward my chest, and I placed a kiss on her nose. “Angel,” I whimpered.

My eyes followed my hands.

Oh fuck no. Fuck no! No!

My heart stuttered painfully. I forced myself to breathe. I shook as my eyes took in what I was seeing.

My stomach cramped, and I held Ayla tighter to my chest.

This couldn’t be happening. Not my Angel.

My eyes stayed fixated on her body—her stomach.

“No,” I whimpered, shaking my head wildly.

My eyes went to her face again. She was still unconscious.

My Angel. My beautiful Angel.

My eyes moved to her stomach again. Her round, rigid protruding stomach.

This time I let out an enraged roar that echoed through the stone walls.

 

 

END OF BOOK 2

 

Alessio’s and Ayla’s story continues in Book 3,

The Mafia and His Angel: Part 3