Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4)

by Veronica Lancet

  Blood.

  I want to see his blood flooding the room. I want to see his life leaving his body.

  Death. I want to see death.

  I grab on to his neck, twisting until he's moving no more, and yet I keep on pulling, knowing it will give way eventually, unleashing a violent storm as rivulets of blood wash over me.

  And when his neck pops, blood and bone finally spurting out, I don't stop. I just take his head and I smash it to the ground until his skull becomes pieces smaller than fine sand. Until there's no more.

  But I need more.

  More blood.

  I feel myself wading through people.

  Hitting, smashing, destroying.

  Only the sticky feel of blood as it coats my body makes me feel a little more at peace. Everything that comes into my path is doomed.

  I hear bones breaking, skin tearing, blood spurting.

  A pleasure unlike any other overtakes me as I simply give in. I succumb to this animalistic rage, hoping to lose myself. Lose every part of me that still remember, every part of me that knows about Vanya.

  Because the alternative is too painful.

  And so I continue.

  I kill and kill and kill. It's the only thing that feeds the beast.

  Until I can't anymore.

  I don't feel the pain of the bullet that hits my side. I only feel the blood as it gushes out of me, the force of the hit propelling me back and making me lose my balance.

  Unwittingly, I fall down, my breathing labored, my lids heavy.

  In the back of my mind, I know something's wrong. That I've been critically injured. But I can't react.

  "I'm here," I think I hear a voice.

  A very familiar voice.

  "Where you go I go," she continues, the sound so melodic it makes my dead heart weep.

  And as I feel a small hand cup my cheek, dragging my gaze down, I blink some clarity into my eyes.

  The haze is slowly lifting to reveal a blonde goddess looking at me, her eyes red from crying, her features contorted in pain.

  I open my mouth, wanting to speak, but no sound comes out except a hoarse grunt.

  She frowns, never taking her hand off my skin, her body cushioning mine even as more blood falls between us.

  "Si... Si..." I manage to get the syllables out, the effort seemingly taking everything out of me.

  "Yes," she whispers fervently. "Yes," she brings both hands to my cheeks as she pulls me towards her, her lips on mine as I taste blood and tears. "Yes," she speaks against me, and I inhale the words just as I inhale her.

  "Hell girl," I groan, my mind gaining some alertness.

  "Vlad, my Vlad," she continues to speak in short, pained sounds that make me hurt for her.

  You hurt, I hurt.

  Everything comes rushing in, the memories, the pain.

  The love.

  "My Sisi," I croak, my arms reaching around her small body to tug her to me. And as I feel around her back, I find pieces of metal embedded in her clothes.

  "What..." I start, but she silences me with yet another kiss.

  "I'm fine. We're fine," she drags her lips across my cheek. "Everything will be fine."

  I don't know why those words simply break me. And I do something I should have done a long time ago.

  I let myself feel.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  A MONTH LATER,

  "What are you doing out and about?" My hands on my hips, I glower at him, my expression showing him I'm not joking.

  "I'm fine, hell girl. Besides, who's going to help with the renovations?" He gives me that charming smile of his in hopes it will melt my anger away.

  Melt me it might, but not my anger. Not when he's just gotten out of bed, his stitches not completely healed.

  "Not someone who was shot four times in the chest, Vlad," I roll my eyes at him, "Certainly not someone who was just at death's door. Drop the shovel and come with me," I beckon him towards me, an eyebrow raised as I wait for him to argue.

  He doesn't, because he knows he won't win with me. Not when I've stayed day and night by his side, nursing both his body and his mind.

  Something had happened to him that day at Miles' compound. Gaining all his memories back had shifted something in him, and he'd changed—utterly and irrevocably.

  For days after he'd been mortally wounded, he'd languished in bed, fighting between life and death, and I don't think I've ever felt greater anguish than thinking he might just... die.

  Still, I'd had to be strong for both of us. I hadn't left his side for a minute. Even as my own bruised flesh had been paining me, my back riddled with small wounds from the impact of the bullets against the bulletproof vest.

  I'd put everything aside, because in that moment, I had one purpose—him.

  But when he'd come to, the change had been obvious in his features, in the way he held himself. More than anything, I could see a new lightness in his eyes.

  He hadn't talked at first, staring into empty space.

  But slowly, he started opening up, telling me everything that happened.

  How Vanya died.

  Though rationally he realizes it wasn't his fault, he can't help but hold himself accountable for everything that happened to his sister.

  "You're so hot when you're bossy," he drawls when he comes to my side, his arm snaking around my waist.

  I catch it, swatting it aside as I turn to him, a thunderous expression on my face.

  "You don't get the play the charming rogue when you're barely on your feet, mister. If you think to get out of bed again, I'll bury you myself, since it's clear you have a fervent death wish."

  "Hell girl," he murmurs as he comes closer, his mouth skimming my cheek, "you know I love it when you threaten me," his breath on my skin, I can't help the involuntary shiver that goes down my body.

  "I'll let you bury me," he starts, and I note the amusement in his tone, "only if I get conjugal visits," he whispers, and my lips twitch.

  "Vlad," I exclaim, scandalized.

  I can't believe he's still in the mood to joke.

  "Fine, fine," he finally acquiesces, "I'll go back to bed. But you're coming with me."

  I can't find it in me to refuse him, so I end up going to bed with him.

  "You should forgive your brother," he suddenly says as he holds me to him. "You know he meant well."

  "He would have killed you," I whisper, still unable to remove that scene from my mind. "One more bullet and you would have been dead, Vlad," my voice trembles as I look up at him, his dark eyes watching me intently.

  "You saved me when I didn't deserve it, Sisi," his hand comes to rest on my head before he slowly moves his fingers down my hair. "But I was out of control. I could have..." a breath catches in his throat, and I recognize the agony behind his expression.

  "But you didn't. You're here, with me. We're both alive. As for Marcello... I will, eventually. Not yet," I sigh.

  I understand why he'd done that, but at the same time my heart cannot bear to think of the alternative, of what might have happened if I were a second too late.

  He would have killed him.

  And for that, I don't think I can forgive Marcello anytime soon. I cannot even bear the thought of being in the same room as him, the urge to do harm too overwhelming.

  "You haven't had any episodes so far," I change the topic as I jump out of bed to get the medical kit and change his bandages.

  He pulls himself in a sitting position as he awaits for me to come tend to him, his expression pensive.

  "I don't think I'll have more in the future," he mentions, and I frown.

  "Why?"

  Bringing the kit to the bed, I start to carefully take off his bandages before inspecting the condition of his wounds.

  "These look good," I smile as I clean the areas, happy to see there's no infection and everything seems to be healing great.

  He grunts, staring above my head as I continue to change the bandages. I'm focused on my task
when I hear him speak again.

  "The episodes," he starts, his voice far away. "I think they were my way of dealing with Vanya's death and the guilt I had over it. Blood..." he takes a deep breath, and I still, knowing this is an important moment for him.

  "Blood reminded me of what I'd done. Of her blood on my hands. And every time it I saw it, it made me go a little crazy."

  It's clear he's been thinking about this a lot and I cannot help but worry for him. Ever since the day he found out that he'd killed his own sister he's changed. I don't know if it's a conscious change, but I do think that the last episode freed something inside of him.

  "Vlad," I raise my gaze to him, searching his expression. "Vanya wouldn't have blamed you. You know that."

  He purses his lips in a sad smile.

  "I do. I do, Sisi. But that doesn't take away the fact that I feel an emptiness," he brings his fist to his chest. "Here."

  "It's normal." I cover his fist with my hands, bringing it to my mouth and lightly brushing my lips across his knuckles.

  "It's normal to feel like that. It's human. And though disputable," my lips curl up, "you are human. Give yourself time. To grieve. To mourn. To forgive yourself."

  Besides his physical injury, his psyche had been the most affected by what happened. He's slowly starting to open up about his thoughts and feelings and I appreciate anything he chooses to share with me. No matter how long it takes, I'll be there for him, and I'll offer him my love and support—unconditionally.

  At the end of the day, it can't be easy for a man who's never allowed himself to feel anything his entire life to suddenly be flooded with all these strange emotions. Sometimes I see him struggle to make sense of what's happening inside his mind, and it hurts my heart that there's nothing I can do to take away his pain.

  He nods thoughtfully at my words, though his gaze is distant.

  "Time..." he repeats.

  "We have all the time now. And maybe getting closer to Katya might help you," I throw the idea out and he immediately grimaces.

  Daunted by facing the outside world and still getting used to freedom, Katya and Tiberius have been living at Vlad's underground compound for the past month. In the meantime, we'd been staying at Vlad's childhood home as I'd thought that fresh air and some open space would do him good.

  Although I'm still not on speaking terms with my brother, Lina's help had been a blessing as she'd helped Katya and Tiberius accommodate to their new reality while I'd been nursing Vlad back to health.

  I'd visited them a few times, and they'd come down here often too. Vlad, though, has not been too open with his sister, barely exchanging any words, their meetings stiff and awkward.

  I can't exactly blame him, though, as I know he harbors some type of guilt for what happened to her, but he can't continue like this forever.

  "I'll try," he grumbles, the words barely audible.

  "You better." I slap him playfully on the arm.

  "Auch! Convalescent here, hell girl," he feigns a moan of pain.

  "As if." I snort. "You weren't convalescent when you were trying to dig a hole in the garden. Couldn't you have asked someone to do it if it was so urgent?" I roll my eyes at him.

  His reaction to pain is still the same—nonexistent. Although that makes me happy in this particular scenario as I can't imagine how much four bullets through the chest would hurt.

  Truth is, Vlad's always been a very physically active person, and I can't imagine what being stuck on bed rest must be doing to him. Even so, I'm not about to endanger his health just because he's pouting at me.

  "We need to get started soon, though," he complains.

  After he'd come to, we'd had lengthy talks about our future and what we wanted to do next. We'd also had extremely difficult conversations about what we'd found at Miles' compound and how we were going to deal with that. But together, we'd decided to help the children we'd rescued from Miles' laboratories, and give them a new purpose in life.

  "An academy?" I'd been surprised when Vlad had suggested the idea.

  "They are all different. Be it by birth, or because of what was done to them. They don't know how to fit into society, and most of them have no one to turn to," he'd explained, managing to shock me with his thoughtfulness.

  "We'd teach them how to adapt to the world, and we'd give them a purpose," his smile had widened, and I'd known it had to be something insane.

  "An assassin academy," he'd proudly declared, making me blink in confusion.

  "Think about it. They are already primed for killing. But this way, we can teach them a more ethical killing," he'd paused, probably realizing that doesn't exactly apply to him, "or at least some sort of honor system so they don't become too dangerous. So they don't become me."

  "That's not a bad idea," I'd replied. And the more I mulled over it, the more I realized the merits of the project.

  "Instead of foisting some impossible standards on them like Miles had been doing, we'll foster their natural talents and make them the best damn assassins the world has ever seen."

  The more he talked, the more I realized how enthusiastic he was at the prospect. And with his mental state so fragile, I knew this was the perfect thing to help him get out of his slump.

  He'd have a goal, a mission. And so he wouldn't let himself succumb to the pain that is the truth of Vanya's death.

  But while I'm actively supporting his new endeavor, that doesn't mean he can strain his barely healed body. He has plenty of people to work on that.

  Another side effect of toppling down Miles' and Meester's business had been recruiting a lot of new people under Vlad's leadership. Most had also sought him out after news got out that he'd been the one to dispatch all the syndicate leaders, and many men had declared they wanted to work for the strongest, not the weakest.

  It had been rather fortuitous, as we've recently put together the plans for the academy, and we'll need a lot of people to make Vlad's vision happen.

  "I want things to go back to normal. I feel useless like this..." he groans, lifting his fingers to his temples and massaging them.

  "I know," I sigh. "But I need you to be healthy, Vlad. I can't have another scare like that one."

  I still have nightmares of him being shot, blood pouring out of him...

  I shake myself, knowing it's never helpful to dwell on that.

  "You won't. I promise you," he takes my hand, tugging me towards him. "You're my one reason to get well, hell girl. So I will," he murmurs softly, his lips on my forehead as he trails small kisses all over my face. "Everything for you."

  "Good," I whisper, leaning into him and feeling his warmth on my skin. "I love you," I tell him, my lips parted as I give myself over to a breathless kiss.

  "I love you too. Always."

  A FEW MONTHS LATER,

  "You know you don't have to do this, Sisi," my brother tells me from behind.

  Fixing my hair, I turn to face him.

  "Are we doing this again, Marcello? I thought we moved past that," I shake my head at him when I see the slight smile on his face.

  "I had to try," he shrugs, giving me his arm.

  As we head out of the house and towards the garden, he suddenly stops, laying a kiss on my forehead.

  "I'm sorry," he apologizes, and I note he really means it. "I've known Vlad my entire life, and I thought I knew everything there was about him. But I guess I never tried to look deeper. Not like you did," he gives me a brief smile.

  "I may never be completely comfortable knowing you're with him, because I've seen him at his worst, and... well, you know his worst too," he chuckles. "But I can see how happy he makes you. I've also seen how happy you make him. Even as I'm reluctant to admit it, there's something about you two when you're together. Almost as if you're always in your own little world."

  My lips tug up in a smile at his words, because he is right. There can be a thousand people around, but if Vlad is next to me, then it's always going to be just the two of us.

&nbs
p; "I recognize you have something special, and you have my promise that I won't try to interfere again."

  "Thank you. That means a lot to me," I tell him, going on my tiptoes to give him a kiss on his cheek. "And thank you for welcoming me to the family."

  "Sisi. I'll always be your family," he pulls me in a hug. "No matter what," he continues, and my heart warms at his words.

  "Good," I sniffle, already the urge to cry overwhelming. "We should go before I burst into tears," I joke, grabbing his arm and starting again towards the garden.

  A small gazebo is at the end of the walking path. Vlad had built it with his own hands when he'd gotten the green light that he could finally do physical work. And he'd dedicated it to his sister's memory. A V insignia sits at the top of the roof, the shiny marble glinting in the sunlight.

  There are two rows of seats on each side of the windy path, all full of friends and family. Lina, Claudia, Venezia and Katya are on one side, all wearing dainty light blue dresses, each holding a small flower bouquet.

  Their faces light up when they see us approach, and I send them an airy kiss and a wink as we continue to walk.

  On the other side, Seth, Adrian and Tiberius are standing behind Vlad, their black suits dashingly elegant even though they must be sweating on this heat.

  And then there's him.

  My Vlad.

  He looks nervous as he paces around, his head whipping in our direction as we near the gazebo.

  And when he sees me, his eyes grow wide, his smile blinding as he looks upon me, his gaze smoldering with love and... I grow hot just as I feel his attention on me, a blush going up my cheeks.

  I suddenly feel breathless as I step next to him, Marcello handing him my hand—with no funny retort either.

  "Ready?" he whispers, tugging me close.

  I raise my head, moistening my lips to reply to him, but as I note the wicked gleam in his eyes, my mouth parts of its own accord, no sound coming out.

  The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smile as he smirks at me, that sinful arrogance that always drips from him and makes me want to both kill him and love him at the same time.

  Still, there's no mistaking the rapt adoration in his eyes as he peruses my face, moving over every inch of exposed skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. He doesn't have to touch me or do anything. Just the way he looks at me, as if he'd shred my wedding dress off my body before prompting me to run so he could hunt me has me sweating under layers of tulle.