by Lylah James
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 lose 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 to
p 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 laughter.
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.
Sweet kisses. Gentle caresses. Loving eyes.
The memories were all broken puzzles that didn’t make sense.
But one thing for sure was that with all the shattered memories that assaulted me, the man with blue eyes was always there. In every single piece of memory, he was there.
Alessio.
Was that his name?
It felt…right. It felt like…him.
My savior finally had a name. Alessio.
With my eyes still closed, I slowly sank into another pit of darkness. Sleep took over my body as I slowly succumbed to my tiredness and pain.
And as every time I fell asleep, the man with blue eyes met me in my dreams.
Alessio.
With his name a mere whisper in my mind, I fell asleep against the cold hard floor with the shackles around my wrists and ankles.
Chapter 40
Maddie
I looked at the clock in the living room. It was 9:30 p.m. The men were still not home. I grew worried as each minute ticked by.
I hoped that tonight was the night they would bring Ayla home.
So I sat on the sofa in my nightdress with my robe around me. I waited. I prayed that by some miracle Ayla was going to appear in front of me, safe and sound.
But again, tonight that wasn’t the case.
The men walked through the doors, and I jumped to my feet, looking wildly around them for any sight of Ayla. When I saw their heads hung down, their shoulder sagged with yet another night filled with defeat, my throat closed up.
My chest tightened, and I almost fell to the ground. Despair filled me, and my cheeks were already wet with my tears.
I cried as Alessio walked past me without a word. A few minutes later when his roar of pain echoed around the house, I sobbed.
Nikolay walked away. And then Viktor. No one said a word.
Phoenix stayed at the door, his face drawn in with sorrow. That was when I noticed the blood on him. My eyes widened, and I scrambled toward him in panic.
“Phoenix!” I gasped, my arms moving over his body, looking for the wound. “What happened to you?”
My tears blurred my vision. With the thought of Ayla in pain and now Phoenix being hurt, I was slowly going crazy.
He grabbed my hand, holding it still over his chest. “Shhh…I’m okay, Maddie. It’s not my blood.”
He palmed my cheek, softly rubbing his thumb over the skin. I should have pulled away. It was wrong for him to touch me like that. It was more wrong for me to care the way I did.
But I found that I couldn’t move away.
“You’re not hurt?” I whispered, looking at his blood-covered suit.
He shook his head. “No.”
The air left my body in a loud whoosh, and I sighed in relief. But the relief was short-lived when I heard Artur’s voice behind me.
My eyes went wide, and I quickly pulled away from Phoenix. He didn’t let go of my head.
I turned my head to see Artur staring at us. His eyes showed what he felt. He looked at me as if I betrayed him.
My heart ached at the thought of hurting Artur. Looking back at Phoenix, our gazes met. He begged me with his eyes.
But I couldn’t give him what he wanted.
I glanced down at our intertwined hands and slowly pulled away. He grasped me more firmly, but I twisted my hand until I was free. Without looking at him, I stepped back and turned toward Artur.
I walked straight into Artur’s arm and buried my face into his chest. Taking a deep breath, I inhaled his familiar scent. This was what I needed.
He swept me up in his arms and carried me to his room. As soon as the door closed behind us, he had me against the wall, his lips on mine.
Artur kissed me furiously as he pushed us toward the bed. I fell down on the soft mattress as he settled on top of me. Before I could think, he had me out of my nightdress until I laid bare underneath him.
His kiss was bruising, his hands hard against my skin. His touch wasn’t searching. He didn’t touch me to bring me pleasure.
Artur seemed almost lost in his mind.
“Artur?” I questioned.
&
nbsp; He didn’t answer. Instead, he continued to trail kisses down my neck. I should have felt good, but this time, I just felt cold. Almost disconnected.
“Artur? What are you doing?”
When he ignored me, my panic grew, and I pushed against his shoulders. “Artur, stop.”
He didn’t. He kept kissing down my stomach until his face was between my legs. The Artur touching my body wasn’t him.
My nails dug into his shoulder as I pushed him hard. “Artur, stop!” I called out louder.
His head snapped up, his eyes laced with a mixture of lust and anger. He looked confused for a second and then cocked his head to the side, giving me a heated look.
“You’re scaring me. What’s wrong with you?” I said, pulling away from him. I grabbed the comforter and pulled it to cover my body.
His expression changed to a remorseful one, his eyes flashing with regret. Artur raked his fingers through his hair almost angrily, although this time he appeared angry at himself.
“Talk to me,” I begged, looking at the man I loved struggle with something inside his head.
He flopped down on the bed beside me, staring at the ceiling. Rubbing a hand over his face, a small growl vibrated through his chest.
“Fuck! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Maddie. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It drives me fucking crazy when I see him touching you,” he replied through clenched teeth. “His hands were on you, and I wanted to slice them off his body.”
The image made me go cold. “Artur,” I snapped.
He turned to face me. We stared at each other in silence before he finally brought his hand up. He palmed my cheek gently, a soft look in his eyes.
“I hate that he had you first,” he whispered.
I flinched at the reminder and pulled away from him. “You promised that you would never bring this up. It’s in the past. Leave it there, Artur. You have me now. I chose you.”
“I know,” he murmured.
“Then stop thinking so hard. Please, Artur. Don’t let Phoenix get between us. I left him in the past, and you need to do the same thing,” I begged.
Even as I said the words, my mind screamed lies. Did I really leave Phoenix in the past? Was I really over him?
