The Mafia And His Angel Part 2 (Tainted Hearts)

by Lylah James

  “You are the Pakhan. The Boss of the bosses. If it continues like this, they will lose faith in you,” Lyov muttered.

  “Like eleven years ago? When they lost faith in you? When you had no other choice but to make me the Boss, so that the Ivanshovs wouldn’t lose the title?” I retorted with a shake of my head.

  His eyes went wild at the mention of his downfall, when we almost lost everything. “I taught you better than this, Alessio,” he growled, stepping forward.

  “If you fail, like I did, we lose everything,” Lyov snapped. He walked forward, stopping in front of my desk.

  He bent forward until his face was mere inches away from mine. “If you continue this downward spiral, Solonik could take over as the Godfather. You fucking know that. He has been looking for every opportunity to do so, and now you are giving him an invitation.”

  The Russian Mafia consisted of four families. The Ivanshovs, Soloniks, Agrons, and Gavrikovs.

  Each family had their own Boss, but I was the Boss of them all. The Godfather. The other families were underneath the Ivanshovs. But Solonik had wanted to take over. If Lyov hadn’t handed this empire over to me, he would have been the Pakhan a long time ago.

  And now he was looking for another opportunity, only because I’d proved myself weak.

  Lyov grabbed my collar, pulling me forward. “I told you not to fall in love. And now you have become useless. I thought you were stronger than I was. Clearly I was mistaken.”

  Releasing my collar, he stood up, his gaze unflinching as he stared me down. “I’m taking over.”

  I wasn’t surprised when the words were uttered. No, I knew it was coming. I expected it, and I was prepared for it.

  But Viktor wasn’t. “What?” he exploded, moving forward, but Isaak stopped him with a hand on his arm.

  “You are useless while you look for Ayla. So it’s better if you concentrate on finding her. I’ll take care of the Families. When you find her and she is safe, you will have your position back,” Lyov announced.

  He didn’t wait for my answer. Not that he cared. He walked out of my office, Isaak right behind him.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” Viktor demanded as soon as the door closed behind them.

  “It’s better this way. I don’t want to worry about the Families while looking for Ayla. She is my priority,” I mumbled, my gaze drawn to her photo again.

  There were a few minutes of silence between Viktor and me before I finally stood up. “Call the others. We have business to take care of.”

  Next man on the list. Another step toward my Angel. They were small steps, but I knew in the end, they would lead me to where I wanted. They had to. I wasn’t going to stop until I had what I wanted, what I needed.

  I walked out of the office with Viktor following closely behind. When my steps faltered in front of the room next to the office, Viktor walked away without another word. He always knew what I needed even without me saying it.

  And right now, I needed privacy.

  Opening the door of the sitting room, I walked inside before closing the door softly. The light was already on, although not surprisingly. Only two people were allowed in this room. If it wasn’t me, then it was my father.

  We just happened to be in the room at the same time.

  He stood facing the wall, his hand behind his back, his legs shoulder-width apart in a defensive stance. Lyov looked very much like the powerful man he was known as.

  But he was hurting inside.

  I knew that because he stood staring at my mother’s portrait. It was a family portrait, actually. The frame was big, taking almost half of the wall. My mother was sitting on a sofa chair, fit for a queen, wearing a beautiful golden dress. My father stood beside her, while a younger version of me sat on her lap. Her stomach was rounded with my baby sister.

  Next to the portrait was another photo of my mother with my father standing beside her. But that was before I was born, just after my parents were married.

  It was a tradition.

  And I could almost see another portrait on that wall. Of Ayla and me, while she sat on the very same chair my mother did, looking very much like the queen she would be.

  But the image was suddenly shattered by Lyov’s voice.

  “I miss your mother every day. Every day, I wonder why I’m still alive while she is gone. I loved her more than I should have.” He paused and then chuckled dryly. “Who am I kidding? I still love her as much as I did before. That type of love never dies, Alessio.”

  He was right. It would never die. Several months ago, I would have laughed in his face, but not now. Because I knew how he felt. The pain of losing the woman you love with every fiber of your being.

  “How much do you love her?” he asked suddenly.

  I flinched at the question and stared blankly at the wall. “I will kill for her,” I replied. “And I will die for her. Does that answer your question?”

  No words were spoken at first. Only silence between us before Lyov finally continued in the same monotone voice, his back still facing mine.

  My heart clenched at his words, and I rubbed at my chest, trying to get rid of the burning sensation. “You have that type of love. If I’m honest, I never wanted you to feel this way. When I first saw Ayla, I saw your mother. And I just knew it would be impossible for you not to fall. Now that you have fallen, there’s nothing we can do.”

  I stayed silent, too overwhelmed with emotions to speak. But my father spoke enough for the both of us. “Just get her back, protect her with your life, and love her the way she needs and deserves.”

  “I will,” I stated firmly, looking at the portrait of my mother and father. With a final glance, I turned around to walk out of the room, but Lyov’s voice stopped me again.

  “Your mother would be proud of you.”

  Letting out a shaky emotionless laugh, I shook my head. “Don’t lie.”

  I heard him huff. When he spoke this time, his voice was heavy, laced with so much emotion that it made my heart ache. “If she found it in her heart to love me, a monster, then she would have loved you just as much, if not more. Your mother’s heart was pure and so full with love. She would have wanted you to be happy. Nothing else mattered. Not who you are or what you do. Always remember that.”

  My chest tightened at his words. Without saying anything, I walked out of the room. My heart was heavy, and it hurt. It hurt for many different reasons. But they all meshed together until all I felt was blinding pain. It hurt without Ayla. It hurt more knowing I was helpless.

  But it also hurt because I always wanted to hear those words from my father. I had craved for those words and his support. And now that I had them, I didn’t know what to do with them.

  Shaking my head to clear my sudden foggy mind, I walked down the hall with only one purpose in mind. To find my Angel. That was all that mattered.

  But even with my purposeful stride and determined mind, I couldn’t shake away one thought.

  In the sitting room, that was the most my father and I had spoken with each other in twenty-two years.

  Chapter 37

  3 weeks later

  My head was buried in Ayla’s pillow. It still smelled like her. I refused to have it washed. I needed something of her, and her sweet vanilla smell was the only thing left of her.

  I inhaled and felt my eyes burn. I felt pathetic.

  But I was too far gone. Almost three months without Ayla and I was slowly losing myself. Every day, it was worse. Every day, it got harder until I didn’t know how to live anymore.

  I forgot to eat. Sometimes I even forgot to sleep. Just stared at the wall, lost in the memories of my Angel.

  I never stopped searching. Not a single day. But no matter how much I searched, how far I looked, she was nowhere to be seen.

  It was as if she never existed. Never here. Sometimes I wondered if it was all a dream. I wondered if she had really been here. With me.

  But she was here. I could still smell her. See her so
metimes. Hear her laughter and sweet voice. She was everywhere but still gone.

  And I was empty without her.

  Was that how my father and Isaak felt?

  The whole house had been in a despairing mood. Nobody really talked. We all stopped caring about everything else. The only one we cared about and thought about was Ayla.

  Maddie lost a friend who was more like a sister. To Lena, Ayla was a daughter. Another child to pamper and love. My men felt like a failure.

  While I lost the woman who was my everything.

  With a sigh, I rolled to my back and stared at the ceiling. Through my pain, I thought about what Ayla was going through.

  Her pain was no comparison to mine. It hurt more knowing that she was hurting. My pain didn’t matter, but hers did.

  I felt her pain, and it was enough to break me.

  Alberto used to call, but it had been three weeks since his last call. Three weeks of nothing but silence from the other side.

  I realized that I was somewhat thankful for his daily call. At least I knew Ayla was alive. Now, I didn’t know. I knew nothing, and all I could do was hope.

  But hope was such a silly emotion. How could I hope when I felt so helpless and hopeless? It was all jaded hope.

  Instead of hoping, I chose to believe in our love. Maybe it was strong enough to keep Ayla alive.

  I knew that when I found her, Ayla would never be the same again.

  But I also knew that when the time came, I wasn’t going to give up on her. I would heal her again, like I did before. I would teach her how to live again, how to smile, laugh, and love again.

  Alberto may have clipped her wings, but I was going to make sure she would fly again.

  ***

  2 weeks later

  I stood in the driveway and watched Nikolay going through the lock, and then the door opened. I walked inside the house, my men following behind me.

  The house was quiet, almost seeming empty. But the woman in the living room betrayed the perception of the house being empty.

  Her back was to us, and at the sound of our footsteps, she swiveled around quickly, her hand going to her chest in panic. Her eyes flared in fear, and she took several steps back, hitting the wall behind her.

  “Hello, Anna,” I started, walking further into the house, making the air seem more dangerous and deadly.

  Anna trembled against the wall, her whole body quaking with terror. To say I was surprised that she came back was an understatement. She must have known what to expect the moment she stepped foot back into New York, but she still returned.

  And now she would lead us right to Enzo.

  “How was your trip?” I asked, taking a seat on the sofa in front of her. I sat back and crossed my ankle on my opposite knee, watching her reaction like a hawk.

  “You…what…are…?” she stuttered, looking wildly around the room and at my men. She looked for an escape, but there was none. Not this time.

  It didn’t stop her from trying, though. She ran into the kitchen, and I sighed in frustration.

  “I don’t have time for a game of cat and mouse, Anna,” I called out loudly enough that my voice echoed across the walls.

  I heard her scream, and she yelled at someone to let her go. Rubbing my face in frustration, I waited for her to come back to the living room.

  I turned around to see Nikolay dragging her back as she flailed. Anna threw her body on the ground, trying to stop Nikolay. Instead of stopping, he just grabbed her arm, dragging her body across the floor.

  “No. Let me go! Don’t hurt me, please,” she whimpered as Nikolay deposited her in front of me.

  “If you cooperate, I won’t hurt you,” I replied stoically, leveling her with a glare.

  She flinched and scrambled backward. Shaking her head, she whispered, “I don’t know anything about Ayla.”

  My eyebrows raised up high in surprise, and a heartless chuckle vibrated from my chest. “How do you know I’m here for Ayla?”

  Her eyes widened, and she snapped her mouth shut. Too late. She was already caught.

  “Where is your husband? Tell me where Enzo is, and I will let you go,” I snarled, sitting forward so that my face was mere inches from hers.

  She shook her head repeatedly. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. Please, I’m telling the truth.”

  “I really hate when people lie,” I tsked before sitting back, giving the frightened woman some breathing space.

  “I’m not lying,” she begged, her eyes wide with fright. She looked at my men, her eyes begging, as if asking someone to help her.

  But no one was going to help her. She was at my mercy.

  “I know the things you have participated in. Every single detail. You might have an innocent face, but you are far from innocent,” I hissed, my voice getting louder with each word.

  Enzo was part of the human trafficking business with Alberto. What surprised me was when I found out his wife was part of it, too. She trained the victims to become slaves.

  It made me sick to think that a woman would do that to another. It made my heart ache to know that Ayla could have been one of those victims.

  Her shaking worsened, her face crumpling as tears slid down her cheeks. It didn’t faze me one bit. Her fear was useless, and she was helpless.

  “Start talking!” I bellowed. Her back straightened as she flattened herself against the wall, cowering in the corner. When she said nothing, Nikolay stepped forward and pulled her up.

  Viktor brought a chair and placed it in front of me. She fought Nikolay as he pulled her down on the chair. She screamed and cried when Viktor tied her body to the chair, rendering her useless and at our mercy.

  “Please don’t hurt me,” she whimpered in horror when I took my gun out. “Please. Believe me, I don’t know anything.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” I simply replied, my voice as emotionless as before.

  “Have mercy,” she begged when I stood up, towering over her much smaller body.

  “As I said, I’m not going to hurt you,” I scoffed at her attempt to beg. If only she would talk.

  Leaning forward until our faces were close, I continued. “I will never hurt a woman.”

  It was the truth. I would never hurt a woman or even lay a hand on them in an attempt to kill them. It wasn’t how my men and I worked.

  Her body sagged against the ropes, and a look of relief flashed in her eyes. “You won’t hurt me? You will let me go? Please, I don’t know anything.”

  This time I smiled. A cold, heartless smile.

  Her eyes widened. The look of distress on her face almost made me laugh. How naïve of her. Panic and horror painted her face as she trembled with the uncertainty of her fate.

  I waited.

  One second. Two. Three. Four.

  With each passing second, her panic grew.

  Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

  She cried silently. I just smiled, or was it a half sadistic smile? Probably.

  Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

  I heard the door behind us open. It closed with a bang. I heard the sound of high heels clicking against the hard floor.

  “Did someone call me?” the intruder said to my back. I felt the smile in the intruder’s voice.

  I didn’t answer. My gaze stayed on Anna, unflinching. Although she was looking behind me now. Her already wide eyes widened more.

  “I said I wasn’t going to hurt you. But that doesn’t mean someone else can’t,” I murmured so only she could hear.

  “No, no, no,” she whispered in alarm as I pulled back, my back straightening as I stood to my full height. “Who are you?” Her voice trembled, but the words were spoken clear enough for everyone to hear.

  “My name is not important.”

  The words were softly spoken, but the voice held such dark promises. I took a step back and watched Anna shake in fear. Dread filled her expression, and her lips quivered with the effort to keep her tears at bay.

  I turned around
and faced the intruder. The side of my lips tilted up in a small smile.

  Only she would dress up for a job like this. Black leather jacket. Tight black leather pants. Red heels. The hood of the jacket was over her head, covering half of her face. It was used to camouflage her appearance.

  One second passed. Another.

  She lifted her hands up and pulled the hood down, showing her face. Her face was as flawless as ever, with her lips painted red. Only this time, she looked different. Her expression showed no emotion.

  Blonde hair fell down her back as she looked straight at the tied-up woman behind me.

  A smile spread across her lips, although it was nothing close to welcoming or gentle. No, it was a sadistic smile. A predator ready to hunt its prey.

  The woman standing in front of me looked very much like the killer she was.

  Nina.

  She worked undercover for me, but she was also a killer. A trained assassin. Someone who did my dirty work.

  And by dirty work I meant torturing the answers out of women who refused to cooperate.

  She took a step forward. Another. A few more steps until she walked past me and stood in front of Anna.

  “What you need to know is that by the time I’m done, you won’t remember your name. Or the difference between living and dead,” she started, her voice low and deadly.

  Leaning forward until their faces were close, noses almost touching, Nina’s lips curled up. “I am your worst nightmare, baby. I am what you call…Death.”

  Those were the same lines she fed her captives. They would tremble in fear and sometimes piss their pants. The reaction she got from Anna was no different.

  Nina was good at her job. Better than most. She did her job with a passion.

  Nina had the same darkness that my men and I had in us. She craved blood. She had the need to kill.

  “Your tools and everything you need are in the bag next to your feet,” Viktor announced, finally speaking up.