Chapter 33: Raging Mafia

Chapter 33

Domenico’s eyes flew wide. He wasn’t stupid enough to miss the hidden meaning behind his words. He gritted his teeth, his fist clenched. 

A second later, Domenico lunged towards Leone, grabbing the collar of his shirt. He dragged him up and slammed his back on the wall.

“I’ll kill you,” he gritted. “Your heart will rest in my hands.” His body shook fervently as he boiled with rage, while Leone, on the other hand, appeared calm—like he was an angel from heaven. But everyone knew he was the master puppeteer of the devil in hell. 

“Too much anger makes people shorter,” Leone raised his hand to pat Domenico’s head, which flared his anger even more.

He raised his hand to throw a punch at him, but Leone, being taller and far stronger, easily caught it, twisted his hand behind him, and slammed his face on the wall. Domenico grunted in pain.

Not just his hand but he felt like his ego was twisted also. His jaw hardened, and he skillfully reached for a dagger in his pocket, but Leone twisted his wrist and a loud snap erupted from it.

Domenico screamed in pain, his eyes watered at his broken wrist. Leone, bored of always winning their little fights, finally let him go. He turned to leave when the sound of a loud gunshot erupted in his ears. 

He slowly turned back to see Domenico holding a gun, a fulfilled smile on his face. He looked at his arm to see blood gushing from it—this idiot had actually shot him.

“An eye for an eye,” Domenico chuckled, oblivious of his own high degree of foolishness as he had only made his attack when Leone had turned his back on him.

Leone didn’t utter a sound, not a flinch or scream, but his eyes narrowed in annoyance. No, he refused to fall for this temptation today. If he severed Domenico’s head from his body now, he would have no one to kill time with.

Leone took a breath, and without turning back, he left the dining hall to see the butler standing in front of it.

He had heard the gunshot but had been too scared for his life to go in and check what had happened. It had only been weeks ago that he was shot himself and had just recently recovered.

Steward’s eyes widened on seeing Leone’s shot arm, from which blood freely gushed out. Did this mean Domenico was dead? He gulped. If he were, it meant only Leone now stood in his way of having a long life.

He bowed deeply once Leone walked past him, and as minutes dwindled, he began contemplating sending servants to fetch Domenico’s dead body from the dining hall or passing the news of his death to the Don.

Not so thankfully, Domenico walked out of the dining hall minutes later, alive and well. Steward bowed deeply.

“Send Doctor Lydia to my mansion now!” he ordered, and Steward nodded and immediately obliged.

Domenico’s face twisted into a scornful expression. As soon as he treated his broken arm, he would have men dig out Leone’s stupid apple tree.

The Don would be on his side, especially if he told him Leone had buried Diego there. His lips pulled up into a smile. He couldn’t wait to dig out that tree. Every human in the empire knew how much Leone cherished it. He couldn’t wait for this satisfying moment to come. 

………..

Anna turned restlessly in bed, her lids shut tight, her forehead creased. She was having another one of her dreams with her father’s consigliere, Giuseppe, in it.

“Be a good girl, Anna,” he smiled devilishly, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he advanced towards her.

Beads of sweat adorned her forehead as he inched closer to her, her back against the wall in the cold room.

“Be a good girl,” he repeated, his hands reaching for the sides of her breasts.

“No!!!!!!!” Anna screamed, her eyes flew open, her breath labored as her hands flew to her chest, her heart nearly jumping out of her ribcage.

Beads of sweat adorned her head, and it all felt too real—like it was no dream. It felt too real because it was real; it had actually happened in that hellhole in Lorenzo empire. 

She jolted in shock on seeing Leone leisurely seated on her sofa, with a book in his hand. “Did we have an interesting dream?” his brows quirked up.

Anna was sure that it was this devil’s presence that had brought those nightmares.

Anna instantly remembered she was wearing just a thin piece of cloth that left the cleavage of her breast and her nipples exposed.

She quickly covered her chest with the duvet. “Why are you here?” she glared.

Leone shut the book with a dull thud. Her brows drew together as she watched him get up from the sofa and head for her closet.

He leisurely walked inside, like the place belonged to him. He wasn’t even supposed to be there—she had her underwear in there! Her cheeks turned crimson. She’d have gotten up to drag him out, but she didn’t want him seeing her like this.

A minute later he was out with one of her t-shirts, which he threw at her. “Meet me at the balcony.” With that, he flung the door to the balcony open, stepped in, and shut the door afterwards.

Anna was in a daze. She’d have just ignored him and gone right back to sleep, but any time she had such nightmares, sleep was usually impossible.

She wore the shirt and went to the balcony to see him leaning on the railings, staring at her. He wore a black t-shirt, his hair tousled due to the wind.

Anna stared at his exposed arm, his ink tattoos, and those veins… she shook those thoughts out of her head. “What do you want from me?”

She shivered a bit; the cold air bit through her skin as she stared at him.

Leone pushed himself away from the railing. He walked to stand in front of her; his massive height and build made him tower over her completely.

She gasped when his hand held her shoulder, pulling her and turning her back on him for it to press against his hard, sturdy chest.

Her lips twisted, wanting to ask the crazy psychopath what he was doing, but her lips clamped shut. Her eyes widened when he placed a necklace on her neck—an exact replica of the one Domenico gave her, which he had tossed into the fireplace.

“When I like something,” his hot breath fanned her earlobe, “I usually don’t take from it. I prefer having it in full.”

He clipped the necklace on her neck, and Anna swiftly turned to face him, ready to move away from him, when his large hands wrapped around her tiny waist.

“I like you, Anna.”

Her eyes flew wide, almost rolling out of her sockets, and she searched for the usual mirth in his eyes, the annoying smirk that usually tugged at the corner of his lips. But there was none—only heavy words which hit her hard like a rock.