The Mafia And His Angel Series (Tainted Hearts)

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The Mafia And His Angel Series (Tainted Hearts) Page 55

by Lylah James


  Fight, Ayla.

  Without thinking, I reached for the lamp. Everything happened so quickly. One minute Alberto was inside of me, and the next, I was smacking the lamp into his head. I hit his head twice, hard enough to make him bleed.

  He roared in pain and pulled away from me.

  My body felt light as soon as he shifted away, and without wasting a second, I was rolling off the bed. My legs gave out under me, and I fell down.

  I could barely stand. My whole body was trembling. I crawled toward the door and was finally able to push myself on my feet. Stumbling forward, I reached the door.

  But I was too slow.

  Alberto was on me again. He grabbed my hair and wrapped it around his wrist before smacking my face into the door, right over the knob.

  Pain splintered its way into my head and my skull. My neck ached with the impact, and my vision blurred.

  Was my jaw broken? My cheekbone?

  My whole face was hurting, burning like it was on fire.

  The pain traveled down my spine until black dots appeared in front my eyes. I blinked, trying to clear them away, but the pain was too much.

  He slammed my head against the door again, holding my cheek there. He pressed his knuckles into my skull, and I screamed as the blinding agony spread through my body.

  Spots danced in front of my eyes with the searing pain. Red droplets fell in front my eyes. My blood.

  “I thought you learned your lesson, but you clearly didn’t,” Alberto said. “How many times do I have to tell you that you can’t run away from me?”

  He chuckled, his chest moving against my back. “And why are you running? To whom? Alessio? Did you forget he gave you to me? He left you here at my mercy,” he taunted in my ears.

  Those were the words he fed me every day. But I didn’t believe him. No matter how many times he said them, I would never believe him.

  “Why are you running to him, huh? He doesn’t care about you, Ayla,” Alberto continued, his fingers getting tighter around my hair.

  I closed my eyes and tried to block him out. But Alberto was a man impossible to block. He was a disease that infiltrated everywhere.

  “He is probably buried balls-deep inside another pussy right now. That’s how much you mean to him, love.”

  Stop it! I sobbed against the door. My heart cracked open, and the pieces flew everywhere. Empty. That was how I felt.

  “Aww, does the thought of Alessio fucking another woman hurt?” he goaded, caressing a finger down my neck. “He can get any pussy he wants. You are not anything special, Ayla.”

  I sobbed harder, my head and body too heavy to do anything else. “Are you imagining it right now? Another woman’s legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks her?”

  For the first time, I begged.

  “Stop it. Please…Please…stop…pl…please,” I begged. Everything hurt. Even my soul was aching, screaming in pain.

  Alberto gasped, but it was fake. “Are you begging, love? Well, isn’t that a first. I’ve never heard you beg before. So beg. C’mon, beg me to stop.”

  “Please…”

  “Alessio doesn’t care about you,” he whispered. “He doesn’t. Because if he did, he would have come for you by now.”

  I tried to shake my head, but I couldn’t.

  “Of course, he isn’t coming. He has probably forgotten all about you.” He laughed, and I cried.

  “He isn’t coming for you. Forget him. Whatever hopes you have, it doesn’t matter. Because he doesn’t care. It has been more than a month.”

  More than a month? No. This couldn’t be true.

  More than a month and Alessio still hadn’t come.

  He doesn’t care about you.

  He isn’t coming for you.

  Alberto’s words rang through my eyes, and the tears blinded me.

  What if I was holding on to a hope that wasn’t even there?

  “You are a ghost, love,” he whispered before dragging my body away from the door. He dragged me by my hair and pushed me onto the bed until I was face down. I didn’t fight him.

  My body had given up as I slowly started to lose consciousness, the pain unbearable.

  Alberto mounted my body, and as he slammed into me, I didn’t make a noise. No sound at all. I thought about Alessio.

  As he drove into me faster, Alberto taunted me in my ears.

  But I didn’t listen.

  As I sank deeper in oblivion, I only thought about Alessio. My Alessio. My savior.

  You’re my Angel.

  His voice was a mere whisper in my head, but I heard it. It was the only thing keeping me sane. Keeping me alive.

  I lived for him.

  Because I knew he was coming for me.

  Where are you, Alessio?

  Chapter 36

  Alessio

  2 weeks later

  I stared at the pictures in my hand. Stared at them longer than I should have.

  The pictures were shaking only because my hands were trembling. Anger had been a constant emotion inside of me since Ayla had been taken away. I lived on the anger inside of me. It kept me going. It kept me grounded enough to find my Angel.

  But now, I was raging. There’s a big difference between anger and fury. Anger was enough to make someone go insane. But fury, it made people psychotic.

  And that was exactly how I felt.

  I was past making sense. I no longer felt anything except deep loathing and fury. Nothing else mattered. The little humanity left inside of me was gone the instant I laid eyes on the photos in my hands.

  Fury boiled inside of me as I imagined the multiple ways to mutilate Alberto’s body.

  My fingers tightened on the pictures until they crumbled in my fist. Closing my eyes, I threw the photo across the room, not caring where it landed. I just needed it out of my sight.

  My jaw ground with the effort to keep myself under control.

  Ayla’s face flashed behind my closed lids, and my body tightened as a wave of pain coursed through me. Under the layers of fury, my heart was aching.

  It ached so much I was suffocating under the pressure.

  But the pain was nothing compared to what Ayla was going through. The thought was enough to drive me insane.

  Through my rage, I heard the door open. My eyes snapped open, making contact with Viktor’s as he stepped into my office.

  He stopped in front of the door, his eyes moving to his feet. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he bent down.

  Viktor grabbed the photo firmly in his hands and stared at it. I knew what he was seeing.

  The image of Ayla bare, her legs spread, her eyes frightened, filled with tears was forever etched in my memory.

  A second passed. And then another. A full minute passed before Viktor finally reacted.

  His face was red with anger. “What is this?” he growled.

  “Alberto sent us a gift,” I replied numbly, my voice a little hoarse from built-up emotions.

  “I’m going to fucking cut his dick off and feed it to him,” Viktor snapped, standing up to his feet.

  I sat straight in my chair and leveled him with a glare. “He is mine to kill.”

  Taking a step forward, he stopped in front of my desk, his stare unflinching. “You are not the only one who cares about her.”

  “He. Is. Mine. To. Kill,” I hissed, getting to my feet.

  Viktor shook his head with a sigh. “I will never take that right from you. When we find him, he is yours to kill. But the rest of us will have a hand in it too.”

  We stared at each other. No words were spoken. The air around us filled with tension. It grew colder and heavier under our need for revenge.

  “Fair enough,” I replied. Viktor nodded and sat down on the couch, placing the heavy file he was holding on my desk.

  “All the names that are connected to Alberto. His right-hand men. Their families are also listed. Everything there is to know about them,” Viktor said, nodding toward the file.

 
; I sat down and pulled it toward me. “We already got so many of his men. Nobody knows a thing. He was smart enough to keep his hiding place a secret. His men are a bunch of cowards. If they knew the truth, they would have told me for a chance to live.”

  “What about Enzo?” The same question had been brewing in my thoughts, but it was another dead end.

  “From Nikolay’s information, he went into hiding, too. He’s Alberto’s second in command. He knew he would be our target,” I said, sitting back against my chair. The muscles in my neck were aching. Pressing my fingers against the back of my neck, I massaged the muscles, hoping to relieve the tension.

  My body was weak from fatigue. If I kept going like this, I would be no use to Ayla when she was found.

  “If we find Enzo, then it’s another step closer to finding Alberto,” Viktor muttered, a thoughtful look on his face. “Alberto has gone off grid, and his second in command is nowhere to be found. His empire is vulnerable, and he knows that. Even if Alberto didn’t tell Enzo anything about his hiding place, he will have to contact him.”

  “His only communication to his empire is through Enzo,” I added, sitting forward in anticipation.

  “But we have to find Enzo first,” Viktor said through gritted teeth.

  If we couldn’t find Enzo, there was only one person who would lead us to him. Or bring him to us. “His wife,” I suggested.

  Viktor shook his head. “She’s out of the country.”

  “When will she be back?” I wondered out loud.

  “I don’t know. She left the same day Ayla was taken away. It was probably for her protection.”

  At the sound of Ayla’s name, my heart stuttered, and another wave of pain crashed through me. My hands tightened in fists until my knuckles turned white.

  I stared at the file in front of me. “One of these men, at least of one them, should know about Enzo’s whereabouts. Or even Alberto’s. This is our only option.”

  “We’ll get to them. All of them. Everyone in this list will be questioned. We won’t stop until Ayla is found,” Viktor promised.

  No. There was no way we were stopping. Ayla would be found. Today or tomorrow. Or the day after. But she would be found.

  “What do you want to do after they’re questioned?” Viktor asked. But he already knew the answer. He only asked because he needed confirmation. He needed a push, a new purpose again.

  I stared at the photo frame on my desk. It was a photo of Ayla. Maddie took that picture a few days before Ayla was taken away from me.

  She was laughing, her face had lit up, and her green eyes shone brightly. Her beauty, her smiles, her laughter, they were all mesmerizing.

  “Kill them all,” I whispered, still staring at Ayla’s picture.

  None of them were innocent. There was no innocence when it came to Alberto’s men. I still remembered when Ayla was telling me about her abuse. How Alberto’s men would rape her while the sick bastard watched.

  I was going to avenge my Angel the only way I knew how.

  I was going to destroy the Italians. One by one, until they bowed down to me. To Ayla.

  Reaching forward, I touched Ayla’s cheek through the photo. Wait for me, Angel.

  I was snapped out of my thoughts when the door banged open. I looked away from Ayla to find my father and Isaak walking in.

  Lyov was fuming, his chest heaving with each breath he took. “The Families are questioning your capabilities as the Boss.”

  Viktor swiveled around to face them. “What?” he growled, getting to his feet.

  Lyov ignored Viktor’s outburst. Instead, he leveled me with a glare, daring me to reply. But I had no answer. I knew it would come to this.

  “While looking for Ayla, you forgot that you are the Boss of four Families. You are not taking care of the business or anything else. When there is a problem, you send them to Viktor. The Families have every right to question you as their Boss,” Isaak added as he came to stand beside Lyov.

  “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.”

 

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