The Mafia And His Angel Part 2 (Tainted Hearts)

by Lylah James

  “Thank you,” she replied, not glancing away from her captive.

  Shaking my head, I rolled my shoulders, trying to relieve the tension there. “She’s all yours,” I muttered before turning around and striding away.

  I walked out of the house with my men following closely behind me.

  Nina worked alone, not that she needed help.

  Nikolay closed the door as I leaned against the wall. “So?” Viktor asked.

  My reply was simple. “We wait.”

  That was exactly what we did. We waited.

  It was mostly quiet, but if I listened carefully, the muffled screams could be heard. They filled our ears as we stayed by the door. It shouldn’t have taken her hours to break Anna—but knowing Nina, she was just taking her time and enjoying this.

  I could imagine what was going on in there, but I stopped thinking after a few minutes. Nina liked to get creative. She always surprised us, but whatever she did was always effective. At the end of the day, we got the answers we needed, and that was all that mattered.

  How we got it didn’t matter.

  After three hours, although I was surprised Anna lasted this long, the door finally opened. Nina walked out, looking fresh and surprisingly decent from what just occurred inside.

  But then again, Nina was a clean assassin. As clean as a killer could get.

  She stopped beside me, her face impassive as she stared straight ahead. Her sadistic smile was gone and now replaced with a more contented, relaxed one.

  Nina removed her black leather gloves. They were most definitely stained with blood, but the thing with black was that the blood we spilled never showed on it.

  She passed the gloves to Phoenix, who was standing beside her, her eyes on her hands as she inspected her nails.

  “I need another manicure,” she muttered and tsked.

  Shaking my head, I glanced at the door.

  She noticed where my attention was and sighed. “Enzo is hiding at the Black Club.”

  My eyebrows furrowed in question. “The MC?”

  “The one and only. They work for Alberto. Undercover. No wonder they’re helping hide Enzo,” Nina replied with an exaggerated huff.

  “Anna finally admitted it?” I asked quietly.

  Nina nodded. “It took me a little longer to break her.” She shrugged before continuing. “But no matter how long it takes, by the time I’m done with someone, they are always left broken.”

  That was true. Nina was good at what she did. She liked to call herself Death. She earned that name, though.

  “She is pretty loyal,” Nina added. Unfortunately, when it came to life and death, her loyalty flew out of the window.

  “Is she alive?” I asked, although I already knew the answer.

  “Well, she was when I left…I thought it would be nice to let her think about her life. I was in a generous mood, lucky her. But she stopped breathing about two minutes ago,” Nina replied dryly, looking down at her watch.

  Viktor scoffed. “Generous mood,” he muttered under his breath.

  Nina heard and sent him glare. “All of a sudden, I’m not in a generous mood anymore. Don’t test me, Viktor.”

  She turned back to me and lost her glare in the process. Her face was still cold, but there was a hint of sympathy in her eyes, if it even was possible for her to feel anything.

  “About Ayla, I’m sorry,” she said regretfully. “I know what type of man Alberto is. I saw how he treats the women in the clubs, and I can’t imagine what Ayla is going through right now.”

  My chest tightened at her words, and my body grew cold. Shaking her head, Nina glanced down before continuing. “I also owe her an apology. For what I said. Although I didn’t really mean what I said. I was testing her. To see if she was strong enough.”

  Viktor shook his head and huffed. The others rolled their eyes. Nina glared, her eyes shooting venom.

  “Oh please, all of you know that I could have broken her body in half before she even had a chance to lay a finger on me,” she hissed, her anger evident. “That’s enough to prove I didn’t mean it.”

  I closed my eyes with a tired sigh. “You can apologize to her when she’s found.”

  When I opened my eyes, I saw Nina nodding. When we fell into silence, she stepped off the porch. “If you need any other help—for anything—just call,” she said, her back straight, a look of determination and true loyalty on her face.

  “I hope you find her soon,” Nina mumbled before walking away. “She deserves more than the life she got.”

  I struggled to breathe, my chest heaving with the effort to be in control. I stared at Nina’s retreating back, and after a few minutes, I finally found myself calming down.

  Although my blood still roared with the need to kill, I kept the rage underneath the layers on my skin.

  I glanced back at the door. I should have just walked away and let Phoenix take care of the cleaning, but curiosity got the best of me.

  I stepped back into the house and was assaulted with the smell of blood. I stared at the woman tied to the chair. Or what was left of the woman.

  I felt no pain. No remorse. No emotions at all.

  I approached her slowly and stopped a few feet away.

  Viktor swore behind me. “Fuck yeah. Now that’s what I call art.”

  “Creativity at its best,” Nikolay added quietly. Phoenix and Artur chuckled.

  I just stared. Her head fell limply against the back of the chair, her body sagging as her blood poured around her.

  She was missing all the fingers on her right hand. All her nails from her left hand. Her missing fingers were on the floor in a pool of blood. She was missing an eye.

  It looked like it had been carved out in the most painful and horrifying way. Not that I was surprised. Her other eye stared straight ahead, lifeless. The light had left her. Her face was covered in blood; her clothes were soaked with it.

  The smell of death hung in the air. An unfortunate death for an unfortunate situation.

  Warring emotions raced violently through my mind, but I quickly tamped them down. Now was not the time to get weak over a death.

  “Phoenix. Artur. Clean up,” I ordered, turning away from the lifeless woman.

  I walked out of the house and took a deep breath as soon as I hit the fresh air.

  I felt Nikolay and Viktor beside me. “What’s next?” Viktor asked.

  “The Black Club,” was my only answer.

  Chapter 38

  It didn’t take us long to find Enzo after receiving his location. It went down more smoothly than I thought. A small fight, a few guns drawn. Some bullets flew around us, and then I was dragging Enzo out of the club.

  And now he was tied to a chair, locked in my basement.

  He had been interrogated for hours, but I still hadn’t gotten the answers I needed.

  He didn’t know where Alberto was.

  I thought he was lying, but the truth was written all over his face. He really didn’t know. His fear betrayed his tough armor. He was scared.

  Alberto was a smart man, but how long would he stay hidden?

  I sat in front of Enzo as he coughed again, spitting a broken tooth. Blood dribbled and slid down his chin. He breathed heavily, his chest heaving almost painfully. Each intake of air appeared difficult for him.

  He let out a small laugh, and my eyebrows shot up in surprise. His laughter sounded funny, almost forced. Leaning forward, I waited for him to talk.

  “Why don’t you ask Nikolay?” he wheezed.

  My spine straightened, and my muscles tightened over his words. “You are so sure…of yourself, but your most…trusted man…is a traitor. Ask…him…”

  His head dropped, as if speaking those few words had tired him out.

  Nikolay, who was standing behind him, wrapped his fingers around his throat and squeezed. Enzo struggled to breathe, his face growing red and purple. I even saw the blood vessels break across his skin.

  When his eyes started to lo
se focus, I raised my hand, and Nikolay immediately let go. A laugh suddenly bubbled out of my chest. It was a low chuckle, but it sounded deadly and cold. Dangerous even.

  I gave Enzo time to struggle through his breathing before speaking. “He is not the traitor,” I replied calmly, sitting back in my chair.

  Enzo’s head snapped up as he coughed repeatedly. His eyes flared with surprise. “He…is…He is…spying…on…you…for Alberto.”

  “Wrong,” I muttered back. “He isn’t. Too bad for Alberto he thinks that.”

  “Wh…at?” Enzo sputtered, confusion written all over his bloody face.

  Instead of answering, I stood up. Frustration built up inside of me as I walked out of the room. If Alberto’s men thought Nikolay was the traitor, then they didn’t know who the real traitor was.

  Another smart move from Alberto. Someone from my estate was working for Alberto, but nobody else knew that except Alberto.

  “Fuck!” I bellowed, punching the wall. I heard my knuckles crack, but the pain didn’t faze me. It only pissed me off more.

  “What do you want to do?” Nikolay asked quietly. He was always calm, always ready for the next step.

  “Don’t kill him. Not yet.”

  Enzo was Alberto’s second in command. Alberto was going to need him. After all, his empire was currently at the hands of Enzo. Alberto would need to contact Enzo one day soon.

  And when he did, we would be ready.

  I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the wall.

  Ayla’s face flashed behind my closed lids. The same sweet smile. The sound of her laughter.

  Only this time, I heard her whisper. Three forbidden words.

  I love you.

  The words were never uttered between us, but it was there.

  For the first time, I wished she said it. I wished I had those words to hold on to while my Angel was gone.

  Chapter 39

  Ayla

  1 week later

  What’s my name?

  I tried to remember. I tried to whisper my name, but my lips wouldn’t move.

  What’s my name?

  I asked myself that question a few times, trying hard to remember. But everything was a blur. Nothing made sense. I couldn’t remember my name…my life…or anything.

  I was just numb. Lost. I didn’t feel.

  I didn’t know where I was. It was always dark, with just a little bit of light. The cold seeped into my skin until I would shiver uncontrollably.

  My name. I had to remember my name.

  Ay…A…it started with an A.

  Al…Ay…Ay…

  Closing my eyes, I laid down on the cold ground and pulled my knees to my chest. My memories were all broken, shattered around the place.

  Ay…Ayla…

  Ayla.

  It sounded correct. Familiar. It sounded like me.

  Ayla.

  My name is Ayla.

  I hung onto this new revelation. Ayla. My name was Ayla, and I had to remember. I couldn’t forget again. It was a routine. I would remember but then forget it again.

  My name is Ayla.

  As I repeated the phrase in my head, I heard a whisper. It was all in my head, but the whisper continued. It was one word. Two Syllables.

  It wasn’t my name.

  But it sounded so right. Like I needed to know it.

  Every time I tried to remember my name, the word Angel was always a whisper in my head.

  Ayla. Angel. Ayla. Angel.

  I didn’t make sense, but I repeated it over and over again in my head.

  Who was I? I didn’t know.

  Where did I come from? I didn’t know.

  I was living in a blur. In a pitch-dark world. I was nothing. I felt like nothing. I was just an empty vessel.

  How long has it been since I was locked in this dungeon?

  The days and nights blended into each other until I lost count. Days, weeks, months?

  I wished I knew, but the devil made sure I was left in the darkness. He had stripped me of everything, even my memories.

  Curled against the wall, with the shackles around my ankles and wrists, I rocked back and forth. My eyes closed as I slowly fell into oblivion, another dark abyss where there was no escape.

  I woke up to the sound of the door opening. It banged shut, and I opened my eyes to see the devil approaching me.

  I waited for his command, my body and mind ready to do his bidding.

  He held a bowl in his hand, and the smell of food filled my nostrils. My stomach tightened as hunger suddenly assaulted me.

  He didn’t feed me on a regular basis. Sometimes, I would go days without food, until my stomach would cramp so painfully that I found it hard to breathe.

  He would leave me on the cold ground until I trembled so hard that it felt like my insides were shaking.

  The bowl was placed on the ground between us. He kicked it away a few feet.

  “Eat.”

  He kept his eyes on me when the single word command was given. The tone of his voice held a hint of rage, but it also held no space for questions.

  I sat up and stared at the bowl a few feet away from me. Without wasting another second, I got to my knees obediently. That was what he wanted.

  And I gave it to him. Only because I needed the food he was offering me.

  I felt the cold hard floor under my knees and palms as I crawled toward the bowl. My dignity was long shredded to pieces. My soul was crushed, and my heart had fractured.

  I had nothing left. I was the definition of an empty shell. The devil made sure of that.

  When I bent down to eat, he kicked it a few feet away again. I crawled again. He kicked the bowl again.

  This process was repeated once again until I had used all the length of my shackles, and I was straining against them to reach the bowl.

  Still on my knees, I bent down and licked the soup. Trying to get as much into my frail body as possible. My stomach rolled as the warm liquid filled my mouth.

  It was tasteless, but I still ate. It was the only thing I could do.

  My body shook every time I swallowed. When I heard the devil unzipping his pants, my mind went blank, and I waited for what was to come.

  I continued to eat as I felt him behind me. I still ate as he bent over me, molding his body on top of mine. If I stopped eating, he would hurt me more.

  I felt his heavy length at my entrance, and I closed my eyes. He pushed inside, only penetrating slightly. It was all a game for him.

  I continued eating, taking as much liquid as I could into my body.

  He pushed into me slowly until he was buried deep inside. I pressed my hands harder into the floor, trying to keep myself upright.

  His fingers dug into my hips, and I almost winced in pain. My shackles rattled as he started to thrust inside of me, going deeper and faster each time. An almost feral growl erupted from his lips as he bent my body to his will.

  He shoved inside me forcefully and painfully. It felt like my body was splintering in half as he took me again and again.

  I stared at the soup, my eyes blurred, my mind numb, my body empty.

  My stomach rolled painfully. My throat went tight as I tasted bile on my tongue. My mouth was filled with a bitter taste, and I dry heaved into my soup.

  As he finished inside of me, I couldn’t help myself. I retched, my body heaving as I threw up. The vomit trailed down my chin and neck.

  The dungeon already smelt bad, but the vomit only added to the horrendous smell. It was enough to make me throw up again.

  The devil laughed. His laughter echoed into my ears. My body hurt. Everything hurt.

  As he pulled out of me, I fell to the ground next to my bowl. I laid my cheek on the ground, right where the vomit was. I tried to breathe, but it was too hard.

  I felt crippled with pain.

  The devil laughed as he left the room. Even when he wasn’t there anymore, I still heard his laughter. My ears rang with it. I would never forget his laugh
ter.

  I didn’t know how long I stayed in that position. When my eyes started to droop, I got to my knees and crawled back to my spot next to the wall.

  I laid down and curled into myself, closing my eyes.

  I tried to go somewhere in my mind, a place where I could escape this nightmare. But I couldn’t remember anything.

  No, that was a lie.

  I remembered something.

  Even when I would forget my name. Even when I had forgotten everything, there was something I didn’t forget.

  Blue eyes. Bluish-steel colored eyes.

  A face with those blue eyes would always flash behind my closed eyes. Although the face was blurred, I always saw the eyes.

  It was the only constant thing in this nightmare.

  Sometimes, I would see a hint of a smile on the face. A lot of times, I tried to concentrate harder, and occasionally I could almost see the man behind the blue eyes.

  When everything else was broken memories, the man with blue eyes was my savior. I called him my savior because he kept me from completely losing myself.

  I didn’t know who he was, but while I had forgotten everything else, there was something stopping me from forgetting him. And those blue eyes.

  My mind wouldn’t let me forget him. Whoever he was, wherever he was, he probably didn’t know it, but he was my savior.

  It was strange that while I didn’t know anything, he was there. Always in my thoughts.

  Who was he to me? I wondered.

  With my eyes closed, I heard a voice calling out to me. The man with blue eyes was calling out to me.

  I was surprised when I heard him say Angel. He was calling me Angel.

  Was that my name? Angel?

  No, my name was Ayla.

  Confused, my head started to ache, but I still forced myself to remember.

  The piano. White flowers. The forest. A river.

  They were all just blurred images in my head. They flashed behind my closed lids before I had a chance to understand them.

  Alessio.

  The name was a whisper in my mind. I heard laughter. And the name Alessio.

  Alessio. I felt it in my heart.