"I don't understand."
"Nicolo said there was a possibility you might be his daughter, and by that point you were the last option. Michele was almost dead and getting worse by the day. And so we did the tests," she pauses, her eyes glinting to something akin to... pity? "And they came back positive. Not only were you his sister, but you were a match too," she says, and there's an unusual cadence to her voice, as if she had a personal stake in this.
"So you did the transplant," I continue and she just nods.
Vlad is there to cup my shoulders when I feel myself getting lightheaded.
Nicolo is—was my biological father. Just like Michele is my biological half-brother. My hands start trembling from anger as I realize Nicolo had known all along, and yet he'd been too willing to sacrifice me for Michele.
"Sisi," Vlad whispers in my hair, but I put a hand up.
"Why?' I address Mother Superior. "Why got through all this trouble to help him?"
Her mouth presses in a hard line as she turns her head away.
"Why?" I repeat, taking hold of another candle.
She reacts immediately, thrusting her body backwards.
"He's my nephew," she whispers, "from his mother's side," she finally admits and for a moment I feel sorry for her, because all she did was for the sake of her family.
But at the same time, how many other people have to suffer for that? Why did I have to suffer for it?
I break free from Vlad's embrace, my fingers tightening over the small oil container.
Snatching her jaw open, I pour the entire liquid down her throat, enjoying the gurgling sound when she chokes on it as she tries to spit it out. When all of it has been ingested, I simply grip the hilt of the knife as I plunge it into her stomach, years of pain and humiliation coming to the surface and making me drown in the memories.
I rotate the blade around, making an even bigger hole in her lower abdomen. Her screams of pain don't even phase me at this point, my only goal to make her death as painful as possible.
For me and for everyone else she's abused.
I dig into her stomach until there's a gaping hole, blood gushing out and spilling on the floor. She screams and chokes on even more blood coming up her mouth and nose, but all her attempts are in vain because she's held in place by restraints.
Grabbing another candle, I bring the fire over her stomach, holding it close and burning at her insides until the flame meets the flammable oil in her stomach, a spark igniting and quickly extending throughout her open gut.
I take a step back, breathing hard. I can only admire my work as her body lights up like a bonfire, her screams swallowed by small explosions. Her expression is stuck in horror, eyes wide, mouth open. She's already passed out from the pain, and I relish the way revenge never felt sweeter.
For a long while, I just stare at her, letting her death course through me in an attempt to fill the void in my own heart.
But does it really work?
Shaking myself from my musings, though, I look around to find Vlad missing.
"Vlad?" I call out.
I'd been so focused on making Mother Superior pay that I hadn't been paying attention to anything else.
For a moment I'm worried that the sight of blood might have driven him to one of his episodes, and he'd left to get himself together. But as the doors to the church snap open again, Vlad strutting inside and dragging two women by the hair after him, I realize what he'd been doing.
A smile appears on my face as I give him an airy kiss.
"You just know the way to my heart," I gush as he throws Sister Celeste to the ground, accompanied by Sister Matilde, my old teacher.
"I told you everyone who's ever harmed you will be dead, hell girl. I might have also paid a visit to those two obnoxious girls from earlier in the afternoon, and safe to say they won't be leaving their beds—ever again."
"You were fast," I praise and he just grins at me, showing white gleaming teeth, his canines long and protruding and making him seem even more the predator he is.
"For you? In the blink of an eye," he winks at me.
Both women stare at me in shock, and their expressions only worsen as they look at the highly flammable Mother Superior who is currently sending sparks all throughout the church.
"Assisi?" Sister Celeste asks, raising her head to look at me.
"What's the meaning of this?" my former teacher asks.
I look down at their pathetic forms and suddenly I can only muster pity for them. Pity for the bitter women that wasted their lives abusing others, and that probably never knew any type of happiness.
"Do your thing, Vlad." I tell him. "I want to watch," I say just as I take a seat.
There's an emptiness within me that I hope will be filled by having a front row seat to the spectacle that will be their death.
Vlad doesn't disappoint. Not in the least as he builds a script to hang them off the ceiling, head down.
He's even more impressive as he deftly uses his blades to cut them open from the junction between their legs right up to their jaws. His blades are so sharp, it only takes one good cut for organs to spill on the floor, a more forceful tug and the ribcage is wrenched open too.
I cross my legs, my chin in my palm as I watch their quick disembowelment. When only the carcasses remain, he takes what's left of the oil from the lamp, splattering it around the two bodies before throwing a candle at them.
The flames are quick to engulf them, and just like Mother Superior, they all lose themselves in the fire, smoke gathering in the church, the smell of burned flesh permeating every corner. The entire back part of the church is now ripe with voracious flames looking to swallow everything in their path.
I stand up, ready to leave.
After throwing the last candle, feeding the greedy flames, Vlad turns towards me, blood staining his face and entire outfit. His eyes are midnight black as his pupils melt into his irises, his mouth tugging around the corners in an arrogant yet dangerous smile.
There's something to be said about the way he looks at me, especially when, keeping eye contact, he opens his mouth, his tongue licking the blood from his lips, his teeth stained with red.
A shiver goes down my back as I instinctively take a step back.
I know this side of him. It's the one that demands blood to flow. And yet, it's not just that.
He comes closer, lifting his hand in the air and inspecting the specks of blood. The fire is screeching behind him, the flecks of light illuminating his features and making him seem exactly like Mother Superior had said—a demon.
A demon from the depths of hell, stepping on hallowed ground and wrecking all kinds of destruction. And there's nothing that can stop him.
His eyes snap to mine, and his smile intensifies. Only one word crosses his lips, and I know I'm in trouble.
"Run," the gentle sound escapes him, but I know what awaits me is anything but gentle.
My feet move back slowly, my eyes on him as I watch his every move.
But so does he. A predator on the prowl, there is nothing escaping him, my every step eliciting a reaction from him.
It's in the way his dimple becomes more emphasized, his smile more forced.
"Run," he repeats and I don't linger, backing away and running at full speed.
Skittering through the main yard, I head towards the cemetery, remembering the mausoleum that had been my true home in this place for years on end.
I feel him on my tail, yet I don't feel threatened—not truly. With his speed, he could have caught up with me already before now. He could have tackled and pinned me down in the mud, his big body on top of mine.
My breath catches, debatable if from running or from the running wetness down the inside of my thighs.
I run along the tombs, jumping over a small cross I hadn't seen and almost falling. Regaining my balance in a split of a second, I sneak a glance behind, seeing the shape of his form in the night, the way his outline promises my destruction.
<
br /> I don't stop as I finally make it to the mausoleum, wrenching the door open and entering inside, hoping this will serve as a haven.
But it only takes for that thought to form for me to realize that there's no escaping him. My hands go down my legs as I feel for the knives still sheathed on my body, holding on to the hope that they might save me some time.
I barely take a few steps inside when the door is ripped from its hinges, Vlad's hands on either side of it as he easily throws it to the side.
A low tremor starts from my lips, going down my body and settling deep in my lower belly.
"Vlad," his name on my lips elicits a smug smile from him as he prowls inside, his steps heavy and assured. I keep backing away and he keeps advancing, his eyes dead set on mine, his tongue licking his lips at the promise of blood.
More blood.
One move and he has me by the throat, my body flush to his as he moves his nose up and down my neck, breathing me in.
"Mine," he growls in my ear, his hold on my neck tightening. My arms are flailing around as I try to get him off me, but he doesn't even give me the chance, pushing me backwards until my back hits the marble coffin that should still house Cressida's remains.
"Vlad," I breathe out, my hands meeting his shoulders as I push with all the strength I can muster. He doesn't even budge. If anything, my struggles seem to only excite him further as he twists me around.
His hand on my nape, he pushes me on the coffin, my back to his front as he grinds his erection into me.
I barely realize what's happening as he grabs one knife, cutting my latex suit from my body. Starting from my neck and down until he reaches my legs, he all but tears it apart, the cold air hitting my bare flesh and making me gasp.
"Vlad, please," I try to reason with him once more, but he doesn't react to my words.
No, there's only his harsh breathing as he trails the knife over my bare skin, placing enough pressure on the blade so that I feel it denting my skin, but not enough to cut into it.
Knowing the window of time to be limited before he does something even worse, I stop fighting him. I let him believe I've already submitted to him, letting him do whatever he wants to my body.
Then, just as he trails the blade lower, between my ass cheeks, I move, my hand on the hilt of my knife.
Everything happens in slow motion as I jerk around, twisting and turning until the tip of my blade connects with his chest, drawing blood.
I watch horrified as the slash I made seems to get bigger under my eyes, more blood gushing out.
And as I drag my gaze up, I realize he's smirking down at me.
Without any preliminary, the knife is thrown out of my hand, crashing to the marble floor with a thud.
A sliver of fear goes down my spine as I look into his unfeeling eyes and the way his entire demeanor promises nothing but pain and destruction. There's maybe a split of a second in which I try to duck and run past him, but his fingers are back at my throat, pushing me back on to the coffin, this time lifting me up so I'm sitting on it.
I move my legs around, wildly trying to get him to let me go, but if anything, it only makes him more amused as he chuckles at my poor attempts.
One hand holding on to my neck, since he doesn't require much to keep me subdued, he uses the other to tear at his own clothing, ripping the priest cloak until his inked chest is bared to my sight.
His skin gleams in the moonlight, his savagery emphasized by the cruel lighting. Like a barbarian warlord, his rage is his sword, and as my gaze dips lower, I note a very dangerous sword pointed right at me.
"Let's talk about this," I blurt out. Anything to placate him.
But just like last time, he doesn't hear me. His ears perk up at the noise, but he hears nothing I'm saying.
"Vlad," I reach out to him, but he swats my hand aside, placing himself firmly between my open legs. "Please, Vlad," I beseech him again, just as the tip of his cock probes between my folds.
He rubs himself against me, teasing me lightly before surging forward, the onslaught almost making me jump off the coffin.
"V..." I open my mouth to say his name, but nothing comes out. Nothing but a loud moan as he impales me on his length.
His fingers dig in my hip as he holds me in place, retreating all the way before slamming back into me at full force.
Every and any word I might have tried to get out fails me as I can only feel him ripping me apart, a pain so sweet it makes me whimper, my walls contracting around him, my pussy squeezing him in what I can only describe as a blinding orgasm.
I lose sight of everything. There's no time and space, just his brutal thrusts as he keeps on prolonging the bitter pleasure.
Before I know it, he has me flipped on my belly, entering me from behind, filling me even more. His thrusts are stronger, more painful, but oh, so infinitely sweeter too as he strokes me so deep, I can't control the unrestricted moans that escape my lips.
"Mine," he grits, his voice low, the bass reverberating in the small enclosure.
His hand still on my neck, he brings me into him, his mouth trailing wet kisses down my shoulder, before biting.
"Vlad," I gasp, his teeth breaking the skin, the pain brief but searing as he increases the rhythm of his thrusts. His mouth on my shoulder, he alternates between sucking and licking, ensuring that not one drop of blood is wasted.
His hips piston in and out of me at such a terrifying speed that my mind simply can't keep up, another orgasm ripping through me and making me slump down on the coffin, my arms slack on the sides.
Then he suddenly pulls out, his cock still hard as he slaps it against my pussy, coating his entire shaft in my juices before dragging it upwards, between my ass cheeks.
My eyes widen as I realize what he's trying to do, but my body is too limp to put up any fight.
He separates my cheeks, moving his hand around my entrance as he tests the tight ring of muscles with his thumb. Not unlike the last time, he pushes it inside, using my own arousal to ease the way in. But his thumb is soon out, replaced with the head of his dick.
The head of his massive dick.
"Vlad," I whimper, already scared of having that monster in my ass. Hell, if he'd torn my pussy apart then I'm not sure how much damage it's going to cause my ass hole. "Please," I plead, but I don't know exactly what I'm asking him.
His cock firmly in his grip, he guides the head around my tight hole, dipping it low every now and then to gather some wetness from my pussy. But just when I think he's going to push it in, rip me apart in a way that will have me begging for mercy, he doesn't.
Blinking some clarity into my eyes, I move around, tilting my head to the side to see what he's doing.
The blade of a knife glints in the moonlight, the cold steel making me shiver as it touches my skin. Yet it's not my flesh it cuts into.
It's his.
He grips the sides of the blade tightly, dragging it slowly across the skin of his open palm until blood gushes out, dripping increasingly fast down the blade and on to my ass.
It doesn't dawn on me what he wants to do in the beginning. But as he takes his cock in his bleeding hand, smearing the freely flowing blood all over his length, I realize what his plan is. I don't even get to protest as the head of his cock nudges again at my entrance, this time slick and wet and full of blood as my body slowly opens up and starts accepting him.
The head barely slips past my ring of muscles before he brings the blade down his palm again, ensuring more blood flows between my ass cheeks, all gathering in that place where his cock is penetrating my ass. The viscous substance helps his dick slide deeper and deeper inside of me.
All at once I feel so painfully full—a different type of fullness as his thick erection stretches my muscles, pushing them to their limits and showing me a new type of pleasure. The blood keeps on flowing, the slippery warmth coupled with his fat cock digging deep inside making me become light-headed, too much pleasure building inside of me, my clit burning w
ith unreleased tension.
Slowly, he advances inch by inch until he's fully seated inside, a hoarse groan escaping him as his balls slap against my pussy, my wetness making contact with his sensitive flesh.
"Fuck," I think I hear him hiss as he grips my hips with both hands, pulling his cock out of me before slamming it back in, the blood acting as lubricant to ease his moves.
I gasp at the foreign sensation, but I can't help the way my body simply opens up to his, taking everything he has to offer me. Closing my eyes, I just give myself over to the feeling of being dominated by him. So owned, his brand is seared into my very soul.
Slow at first, his thrusts gain speed as my body relaxes enough to allow the intrusion. There's this wicked feeling of being overpowered, and at the same time I feel like I'm the one in power, making him lose all sense the minute he's inside of me.
Snaking his arm over my stomach, he brings me even closer to him, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they move lower until they settle on my clit. He presses down on it at the same time as he pushes his cock into me. Fireworks explode before my eyes, and as he continues to stroke my clit, I can only come harder, my release unending.
He's not far behind as he thrusts into me a couple more times before his cock slips completely out of me.
I hear his ragged groans just as I feel his warm seed land on my lower back, and I can't help the way my heart squeezes tightly in my chest.
He's mine. This savage man is all mine.
I'm still slumped on the coffin when he helps me down, gathering me in his arms and wrapping me in the strips of cloth from his cassock.
"Did I hurt you?" he asks, stroking my hair, the warmth in his gaze unmistakable.
"No, not at all," I sigh in pleasure, nestling closer to him.
"I think there's something wrong with me," I admit softly.
When we'd hashed a short plan, right before confronting Mother Superior, I'd been the one to suggest doing a simulation of last time when he'd lost himself to the blood. But this time, he'd be in control.
I know he always gets in the mood to fuck after a gruesome kill, so I'd asked him to chase me down and take me like a beast. I wanted to be dominated by him. At his mercy as he pounds like a savage into me.
Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4) Page 67
