Chapter-24 Torture

Nico

Domani got it bad. I grimaced at all the blood pooling through his black T-shirt and the beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. His face was red too, jaw clenching as Caelian pressed his jacket into the wound harder.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” I hissed, glaring at him.

“There was no other choice…he would…have escaped,” he croaked before coughing out a mouthful of blood.

“Leo and I were there,” I snapped.

“You were out…numbered…argh..” he groaned in pain again, his eyes red. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to keep my calm.

Domani was right—we were outnumbered. Leo and I couldn’t take on the men stashed in those damn containers alone. We held our ground, nearly lost the target, the guy who was barking orders, until Domani stepped in. He took two bullets for it. The guy’s in the trunk now, unconscious, but Domani’s in bad shape. And no matter how much we needed that bastard, it wasn’t worth losing my advisor.

“Let’s take him to the hospital instead of wasting time arguing,” Leonardo grimaced, his face, shirt and hands covered in blood. Leo got hurt too, and so did I, but ours were just a few knife wounds. No big deal. “He’s losing too much blood.”

“Deal wi…with th…that bastard fi…first,” Domani huffed. “I wi…will be fin…fine.”

“Speak again and I will kill you myself,” I warned. “Caelian, take him to the hospital. I will deal with the asshole.”

“But don’t you need me?” Caelian prompted.

“Not more than he does,” I said. Domani opened his mouth to protest, but one glare from me and he shut up instantly. Also, I think he was starting to lose consciousness.

“Leo and I can take care of him,” Xavier offered. “Caelian, you and the others can deal with the guy. We will get in touch once Domani is in the proper hands”

“That’s clearly going to need a fucking surgery,” Leo grimaced looking at the wound. “Let’s go. We don’t have time to waste.” I glanced at Caelian, and he nodded in agreement.

“Fine then,” I said. “Leo and Xavier can take care of him.”

“Great,” Xavier muttered, wiping the sweat off his eyebrows. “Let’s go. Hold on, big guy.” Domani gave him a look in response before letting out a string of curses as Leo and Xavier’s men hauled him up.

“Get back in one piece—and soon,” I ordered. Domani nodded weakly, cursing again as Leo maneuvered him into the car.

“Now…what do we do about the motherfucker?” Caelian asked as we watched the three black SUVs drive away.

“I have plenty in mind,” I said, turning around. “Let’s go.”

The bastard was still unconscious as Caelian chained him up, stripping him completely except for his boxers. The snap of the metal across his wrists and ankles was like music to my ears. And as much as I hated to admit it, the torture room felt like home.

Like the place where I belonged.

The torture room hasn’t been used in a long time. It was buried deep beneath the estate, hidden behind reinforced steel doors and soundproofed walls.

The room was all function, no flair—bare concrete walls, a drain in the floor, and a blinding overhead light whose glare was enough to make you want piss your pants. No windows, no extras. Just the stench of metal, sweat, and blood that never fully washed away.

Along one wall hung an orderly display of knives, brass knuckles, pliers, and bolt cutters. A metal cart held syringes—some numbing, others meant to burn. A charged cattle prod lay nearby. Chains hung from the ceiling, adjustable in length. At the center sat a reinforced chair, bolted down and strapped in leather to keep its occupant firmly in place.

Caelian and the rest of my men were waiting for my command, their faces dark with a thirst for revenge mixed with exhaustion. I knew the guy wasn’t going to break easily, so I wanted to give him a small peek at what awaited him and then leave him alone to anticipate all of the different horrors about to rain down on him until he breaks.

Anticipation can be a great form of torture.

I took off my shirt, poured myself a glass of my favorite whisky and glanced at Caelian. “Wake him up,” I commanded. Caelian nodded and glanced at Giulio, his sidekick, who handed him the pressurized hose.

“Do it,” I muttered.

Giulio turned the valve, and a hard jet of water burst out with enough force to jerk Caelian’s arm before he steadied it and aimed at the unconscious bastard. He woke with a start, crying out in panic and writhing against the chains. I took another slow sip of my drink, enjoying the sight of him struggling against the heavy pressure of the ice-cold water, so cold that it was starting to fog up now.

“Enough,” I said. Giulio turned off the valve and then glanced at me as I took a step towards the elevated restraint deck.

“Who…the fuck are you!” the guy shouted, spitting out a mouthful of water, his eyes red and wide.

“The man whose shipment you were trying to destroy,” I said, clasping my fingers around his chin and lifting his face up. He blinked at me, and it gave me immense pleasure when the fear started to slowly creep into those eyes.

“Ni…Nicholas B…Baldocchi,” he croaked.

“The very same,” I nodded. “Now…I hate wasting time so let me get to the point, huh? This is the drill—I will ask you questions, you will answer honestly and walk out of here unharmed. Or…you fight and every time you defy me, I am going to come up with creative ways to torture the truth out of you. So, what’s its going to be?”

“I…I don’t know anything,” he croaked.

“Idiot…” someone hissed from behind me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It’s never easy with these bastards, is it?

“That’s the wrong answer, unfortunately,” I shook my head. “Now one more time…what’s it going to be?”

“I said I fucking don’t know!” he spat, pulling at his chains. “Let me go! Let me fucking go!!”

Here we go.

“Caelian…” I turned to my right-hand man, and he gave me a knowing nod.

Caelian picked up the blowtorch and flicked it on, letting the flame hiss to life. The bastard hanging in chains jerked, metal rattling as he tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go.

“You see this?” I asked, stepping in front of him so he couldn’t look anywhere else. “This isn’t for dramatic effect. I’m not interested in scaring you—I’m interested in breaking you.”

“I don’t fucking know anything!” he screamed again, his voice already hoarse.

I walked over and slammed my fist into his face. The crack of cartilage was followed by a grunt as blood spurted from his nose, and he sagged forward.

“You’re boring me now,” I muttered, wiping the blood off my knuckles with a towel Caelian tossed to me.

“You want me to start with his fingers?” Caelian asked, like he was discussing lunch options. “Or maybe peel back the toenails? That always gets them talking.”

The guy’s face drained of color. He started shaking his head violently, but I was ready to play, he had his chance to answer me.

“Go slow,” I said. “Start with the hand. Right one. He looks like he jerks off with it.”

“Fucking bastards!” he shouted. “You’re gonna burn in hell for this!”

I moved closer, locking eyes with the fucker. “I’m not gonna go to hell, sweetheart?” I whispered. “I already own it.”

Caelian grabbed the man’s wrist and one sharp turn of a screw and the shackles freed his right hand. Then he brought the blowtorch close, letting the heat kiss the skin, just enough to make him squirm.

He didn’t scream right away.

But the second the flame touched his skin, the bastard howled. Raw. Guttural. The stench of burning flesh filled the air, sharp and putrid, curling into my nose like a memory I’d forgotten.

“Still think you don’t know anything?” I growled, grabbing his scorched chin and forcing his gaze to mine. “Who sent you? Why the fuck were you trying to sabotage my shipment?”

“Fuck you!” he spat, blood and spit landing on my cheek. I wiped it slowly. Then smiled.

“You’re going to wish you hadn’t done that.” I pulled a pair of pliers from the wall. Heavy. Cold. The metal gleamed under the light as I tested their grip.

“Now…you brought this upon yourself, so you can’t blame me,” I said, grabbing his hand again. “Talk… or we can count how many fingernails I rip off before you pass out.”

“I swear to God—” I ripped the first nail clean off. He didn’t scream at first. Just stared at the crimson-drenched nail between my fingers like his brain refused to register the pain.

I waited for the sound.

When it came, it echoed like a prayer gone wrong—raw, broken, and utterly human.

“Wrong answer. Try again,” I said, already gripping the next finger. “Who's paying you?” Another scream tore out of the bastard's lungs as I yanked the second nail clean off.

He thrashed, metal chains rattling hard against the anchor points. His right hand was a ruined mess—bloody, blistered, trembling.

“You’re running out of fingers,” I muttered, flicking blood from the pliers. “And patience isn't something I’m known for.”

“I don’t know anything!” he cried. “Please—please—”

I pressed a palm to his chest, feeling the frantic beat of his heart. His skin was slick with sweat and blood. Really, why do they do this? I mean, what can be worse than being tortured to death? If I were given a choice, I’d rather die of a gunshot to the head, not what awaited him.

Some people are just stupid, I guess.

“You’re lying,” I said. “But don’t worry. I’ll find the truth buried somewhere in you. Let’s see if your teeth are hiding it.”

I reached for the hammer Caelian had laid out. Simple. Clean. Brutal.

The guy's screams were already starting before I even touched him, his panic like a high-pitched buzz in my ears.

“You really should’ve picked a better line of work,” I said, positioning the claw end of the hammer beneath one of his molars.

I tightened my grip, pulling hard, and—

CRACK.

Blood exploded from his mouth. The tooth came free with a wet pop, and a thick spray hit my bare chest—warm, coppery, coating my skin like war paint. I didn’t blink. I turned my face slightly to avoid the next hit as he coughed, gagging, blood pouring from his mouth like a fucking fountain.

“Jesus,” Caelian muttered. “You’re making a mess.” I wiped my face with my forearm and turned back to the array of equipment waiting for me.

“One more, and then we’ll see how his memory’s doing.” I lifted the hammer again. And then—

A scream erupted through the room.

Not his.

No, it was female. High. Sharp. Familiar.

Oh no. It better be not…

I froze, my head snapping towards the doorway immediately and bile rose to my throat, panic hitting hard as her terrorized dark eyes met mine. Caelian followed my gaze and let out a hiss in response as I continued to stare at her—her face a map of sheer terror.

No. Oh no…this was not good.

What the fuck was Gianna doing here?