by Lylah James
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.
