Sinful surrender, devious punishment

LUCAS POV.

A perfect coincidence. Wasn't it?

The wanker who had challenged my authority as don twelve years ago when I had first become one happened to stand by my wife, kissing her on the head.

Didn't he learn? I believed I had put him in his place twelve years ago, but I guessed he just couldn't pass off a chance to irritate me, only that it did more than irritate me; it made me want to bash his skull constantly with a hammer until there was nothing left but scrambles of brains and then broken skulls and oozing blood.

I once enjoyed it, and now doing it twice didn't sound so bad.

My eyes darted to Isabella's, who averted her gaze from mine almost immediately; she was scared...she knew she pissed me off. Crossed the fucking line this time... good.

“Having fun?” I asked, corking up my eyebrow in his direction; he groaned with an eyeroll, pulling away from Isabella slowly, but still not enough space to my satisfaction.

“I see you take my wife's silliness for interest. She's trying to rile me up, piss me off a bit. She loves it when all my attention is placed on her.Don't mistake it for anything else,” I spoke wearily, my tone cold and curt. Isabella visibly turned, hating my choice of words but accepted it nonetheless.

“Common, Ricci, don't tell me you are insecure; nothing is wrong with a friendly conversation. Isabella and I are just being friends.” Angelo responded. Fluttering his lashes in her direction, I clenched my fist even harder. I didn't want to lose control, of course.  I'd bloody make him pay for this. 

“Is that so?” I asked, stroking my jawline slowly; I narrowed my gaze toward the guard by my side. He nodded in response, and a gunshot cracked through the air. Once and then twice. Three times and loud gasps erupted amongst the crowd, none saying a thing as the sound of three bodies thumped against the floor.

Angelo turned stiff, his face devoid of colours as he glanced backwards. His lips parted as he turned back to me, but the words were caught up in his throat, terror evident in his eyes as he stared at me, speechless.

I fought every urge in me not to laugh; the bastard had the balls to go my wife's way, and now three of his guards were shot. More men of his hurried towards them, lifting them off towards an ambulance or something of the sort.

“What's wrong, Mancini? Can't handle manly friendly conversations?” I asked, helping  him to wipe off the invisible speckle of dust off his shoulders, retuck his collar, and finally pulled away.

“If I ever see you close to my wife, as little as stepping close to her shadow, that bullet would be next in your skull, and I swear by it when I say my men don't miss.”

His breath hitched, and a light, terrified screech and gasp escaped his lips as I had spoken. Goosebumps lined his skin as he pulled away from me, saying nothing, but I elated inwardly with an air of pride, enjoying the manner in which he manoeuvred around Isabella, leaving enough space not to even brush her skin in the slightest.

My eyes shot back to Isabella, who was mortified at the entire scene that played out now. Her form trembling as she hunted for the right words today, I couldn't have her breaking down now into tears.

I pulled closer to her. Leaning my  lips against her ears to whisper.”“You let him touch you, Isabella," I said, each word sharp enough to cut through steel. *"His punishment was a mercy. Yours?"I leaned in, my breath hot against her ear, "Will be the kind of hell you’ll beg to survive." I threatened pulling away from her.

“I'm not scared of you, bastard.” She cursed in hushed tones, still conscious enough by the public to put a smile on her face. I would have believed her, only she was indeed scared. And she was because they knew better than to test my patience.

I wrapped my right arm around her waist, and the entire party continued in a haze. Everyone paid remote attention to her, they were  scared of her...of me.

All through, I kept my talk of deals. The cops, the weapons, men, and allies. Usual mafia talks and several joking around on how it was being married, beneath all those I was seething with rage, burning with fury, agonised with every passing moment I had stuck in this party.

*

I slammed the door to our room shut, loosening the tie on my neck and tossing it over to the floor. I grabbed a chair, pulling it out to the centre of the room before glancing back at Isabella, who stared at me, stunned and speechless.

“Sit,” I ordered, venom dripping from my words. Isabella shudders on my command, although she bottled it up as usual, with rage.

“Don't you dare!” I furiously stopped whatever it was she had to say lying beneath her tongue.

Reluctantly silent, she walked toward the chair and settled into it. I gritted my teeth, walking around her to grab a rope. I was fast, tying her arms behind her back, and then  her to the chair.

“Whatever twisted ideas you have, Luca, drop. It,”  she snapped, and I, in return, had giggled at her cute attempt to sound resilient and strong. It was a joke; I could see through.

I picked up a letter opener by the bedside, running my fingers around the blade while I took slow steps towards her.

“You let another man touch you, Isabella. Do you know what that makes you?” I asked while she passed me a glare; I turned her chair to face me… face the mirror while I held a firm grip against her chin to raise her head.

Her eyes locked into mine, red with fury. ”Touch me? It was a harmless kiss, but well then, humour me since you know it all.” She retorted. I nodded, clicking my tongue with a hiss before letting her jaw go.

Slowly, gently, enjoying every wince that eased through her lips, I dragged the blade across her sides downwards towards her laps.

“It makes you weak... vulnerable... And despicable, baby...” I murmured, my breath warm against her skin as I dug the blade deeper into her thighs.

Her eyes shot, bulging out of their sockets, threatening to fall out as she glared at me, her lips pursed in an attempt to control her screams… I'd love to see how long she could hold on for.

I pulled out the blade from her lap, droplets of blood oozing gently, gliding down her leg towards the floor.

“But you are mine, Isabella, and I'll show you what that means.” I whispered, digging the sharp tip against her other laps drawing a gasp and groan from her; she shut her eyes close, biting hard on her lower lip while throwing her head backwards.

“Your eyes... I want them open... don't make me repeat myself.” I ordered in a curt tone, so sharp it had her obeying on cue.

She peeled them open forcefully, a mist of tears forming in her eyes as she held back her cries.

“I have to remind you what happens.When you let another man touch what's mine, baby… okay?“ I asked. Leaning toward her ear, biting slowly over the tip of her earlobe earning a shudder from her.

Dragging the blades slowly over the edge of her lap, “Spread those legs, Isabella... I'm not done yet.” I ordered her, digging the blade again into her skin.

This time she broke, letting out a loud cry, the cut deeper than the previous ones.

“You are insane! You sick bastard!”  she cursed, yelling at the top of her voice. I corked my lips to lift my eyes wide to get a response.

“Fucking wrong answer, Isabella!” I snapped, pressing the blade further into her thighs, earning another gasp from her; a streak of tears dropped down her cheeks as she shuddered again.

“Now…Part those legs for me, baby… Do. Not. Make. Me. Repeat myself.”