TWO
Fury enveloped his entire being,like a fur on a cat.It was always there,waiting for the right time to explode. Sixteen years! It's been sixteen years and the grudge has burrowed even more into his heart.The only thing that could calm him down was the death of another,but it seemed like even that could not calm how fierce his demons had gotten. “P—Please,Alessandro.Forgive me,” the man uttered,his blood all over the floor.He punched him even harder,sending him back to the floor.He was not a man of mercy. He fucking cared about no one,especially not this lying piece of shit. “Alessandro let me finish up,” Marco suggested.He had noticed that things were going out of control.He was usually the one that they begged to stop not Alessandro.Alessandro hardly did the killing himself unless he was really triggered to do so. Instead,Alessandro ignored him,determined to finish what he had started on his own. Alessandro raised his boots against the neck of the man on the ground until his cries of mercy were cut off by his desperate gasps for breath. He shows no mercy when it comes to betrayal and this man,who was one of his men had betrayed him. Alessandro walked a bit towards where he lay,his hand gripping his throat.He punches him hard again.This time his blood splatters across the floor and his shirt. The man lay motionless. Unable to control the rage within him,Alessandro raises his boots against his face and began kicking frantically.It seemed like he was pouring all his locked up rage on the man. Splatters of blood and brain matter lay on the floor and on his shoe. The man lay on the floor,unrecognizable. Only when he had been satisfied,did Alessandro leave the man whose head had decapitated from his body to die in peace. He turned quickly towards his underboss. “Take care of this mess” Marco nodded. Marco Ricci,his underboss and second in command was one of the few people he could trust at the moment.Although Marco was half Italian and half American,he had always pledged his loyalty to Alessandro.Alessandro was sure that if it came to laying down his life for him,Marco would not be found wanting. Leaving the torturing room and walking down through the hallway of the main house,he felt at peace. He was Don Alessandro Moretti after all.The most feared don in New York city.He had been raised to be ruthless and cold-hearted.Raised to only give mercy where mercy was deserved and notably it was rare. He was the first son of Don Antonio Moretti.The most feared don during his days of reign but now it was Alessandro’s turn to instill fear in the hearts of many.The people worshipped him.They came to him when they needed help through illegal means because they knew how powerful he was. Although his father had passed down his money laundering business,warehouses, casinos,political connection and companies to him,Alessandro had built more of his own.Only the mere mention of his name brought chills to the ears that heard it. He had been trained to understand that emotions were a man’s weakness,so he had grown without a heart.At ten,he had already killed a man,surpassing his father who only had his first kill at fifteen. No one entered his torturing chamber to come out alive.It had been rumoured that he would normally ship the head or a body part of traitors to their beloved ones as a gift—or warning. He was the Don of Dons. Yet,throughout his lifetime till now,he had felt a soft spot for only one woman—his mother. His mother who was murdered in cold blood by a rival clan. The only thing that kept him going was revenge. Giovanni Conti. Rage filled his entire being as he remembered the man who had murdered his mother.Anger and fury bottled up within him began to reveal themselves. It didn't matter what it took but he was going to destroy Giovanni and everything related to him. Settling onto the chair in his office,he took a bottle of whiskey and poured it into a glass.A wicked grin spreading across his face. He had just found out that Giovanni had a valuable possession. He had a daughter whom he had been hiding for years. He would give it to him for successfully hiding her from the mafia world because not a single soul had known of her existence.He knew now and was going to use it to his advantage. She was his prey. He was her predator. It didn't matter that she wasn't her father,she was going to pay for his sins anyway. The door opened slowly,revealing Luciano Moretti.Luciano who was one of his men was also his cousin and still in the league of men that he could trust. “We found her.She's real,” he said going straight to the point.Anyone who knew Luciano would know he had a beef with patience. Alessandro uttered no word.Instead,he picked up a cigarette from the pack where it lay and lit it up,blowing a cloud of smoke across the room. “Should we bring her to the torturing chamber and kill her?” Luciano asked.He knew the pattern.Anyone who was summoned was going to die.It was not a matter to bargain. “No!” Alessandro replied,his eyes dark and the aura around him screaming power and dominance. “No? Isn't she Giovanni's daughter? I think we should kill her. And I've heard she's getting married in two days” Alessandro paused for a bit.Killing her without him seeing her felt out of place.He needed to torture the hell out of her.She had to feel his wrath and a gun to the head was not going to get his rage satisfied. Hell no! She was his to torture and not any other man. Looking up,with the cigarette stick on his hand, “Then we have a wedding to crash.”SEVENTY“Maybe that's exactly why I chose it.”Their eyes remained locked into each other. It was there. They could feel it. The tension…the hunger…desire surmounting the air like it belonged there.She stared into his eyes and all she could was primal lust—almost animalistic. It excited her in a way she didn't think was possible, and terrified her too. She could have sworn that she heard him growl too. “That turns you on right? The idea of men undressing you with their eyes with you knowing fully well they’re one step away from death.” He took a step closer and she took one backward.Her breathing hitches.This shouldn't be turning her on but it was. It turning her the hell on. “Tell me. You would like it…huh? And when am on the edge I won’t kill him like he would be expecting. I’ll make him watch while I fuck the woman he can never have,” he muttered, his words like a tingle against her skin. “And then I’ll kill him—slowly,” he paused, his eyes raking over her like a hungry caveman
SIXTY-NINEIsabelle stepped out in a spicy pepper red satin gown, clinging to her like a second skin. The neckline dipped, shoulders bare, with a slit that ran up her thigh that whispered everything dangerous.Alessandro looked up from his phone and stilled. His jaw twitched.“Isabelle,” he muttered faintly, like her name had burned his tongue.She didn't know why but the way he called her name did something to her. “How is it?” “Not enough,” he responded darkly. And the next look he gave her told her that he wanted her in another dress. Isabelle bit her lips as she walked back into the changing room with Cici’s laughter from a joke she cracked echoing across the room. In minutes, she was out again. This time around the dress was full length. The kind of dress for a royal garden wedding. The lace hugged her hips, glittering faintly in the light, but the neckline was high, too modest for a party. She stepped forward towards him, waiting for what he had in mind.“No”“What? That's it?”
SIXTY-EIGHT“Alessandro—”“Get in,” he roared. For a moment she was tempted to tell him that she would rather walk in the pouring rain than get in a car driven by him. But that would be stupid—considering his angry demeanor and the fact that she had a request that she badly wanted him to agree to. She looked back and Sergei’s car was nowhere to be found. Pulling open the passenger door, although cautious of how wet she was, she slid into the seat, slamming the door shut.“Where's Sergei?” she asked.“You drove him away with your wildness.”“I only wanted to play a little,” she sulked.“Play…under the rain? What are you? Five?”She pouted a bit. “It's fun. You should try it out. It's still raining. We can go out now…”“Neither you nor I are getting into that rain. Didn't you think about yourself? You could catch a cold at any moment from now. Do you think I have the words ‘rescue mission’ permanently stamped on my forehead?” he stated grimly.She didn't like the way he sounded. It was
SIXTY-SEVENThis man was oddly quiet. She stole glances at him at intervals but he never returned any. And she had no choice but to conclude that he was a strange man.Sergei’s eyes remained fixed on the road, his hands firm on the steering wheel. She wasn't close to him and that was okay, but who drove in a car with someone of which you guys are the only humans in the car and you would feel perfectly fine not having a conversation?Apparently this man!Staring at him again she took in his peculiar features. He was in a suit as usual. Alessandro had made it so easy for her to grow accustomed to seeing and expecting suits all the time. Every inch of his skin from his jawline to his fingertips were covered in tattoos. With his hair which was unexpectedly groomed, and dark brown eyes he might be considered handsome, but to her he looked mysterious and menacing in every way. Like he just stepped out of prison but this time around with a—suit.“Where are you taking me to?” she asked, hopin
SIXTY-SIX Tap. Tap. She knocked softly against the door leading into his office. Or maybe it was boardroom door. She didn't know which. All she knew was that she just might have seen him slip in and out of here with documents and sometimes—cold and stone-faced looking men. She hadn't been in this room since the incident where he humiliated her by sending her out of the room after he touched her the moment his men obeyed his orders by sending their heads down. The memory of it only filled her with disgust and irritation. He didn't respond to her soft knocks or beckon on her to come in so she pushed the door open. And there her husband sat in all his glory staring at her with those eyes that were all shades of bitter chocolates. He wasn't alone either. Marco and Sergei’s eyes clashed with hers as well. Oopsie! You definitely interrupted something, her mental voice rang out. Nervously gripping the door handle, she bit the insides of her cheeks and decided to retreat, “I’m sorry,” he
SIXTY-FIVE••DAYS LATER••Rubbing his temples in an attempt to help ease it's throbbing, he made his way to the library. It was one of his sacred spots. And plus, he had his space where he sat, thought,and worked on business whenever he needed to. And right now, he had a lot on his mind to settle. The Russians were still in on dragging their boundaries with them. They were asking for war, and they would surely get it. And all these was supposed to be a distraction for how Isabelle had been treating him since their last scenario. She was ignoring everything about him and he was only here to bury his head in work and not think about anything related to her.Halting in his steps…She was here.Of course she was. She's fucking everywhere, or maybe he knew she was going to be here and that's why he had been coming into the library more frequently than he did. They had not spoken since the aftermath of the morning incident. They were avoiding each other the way one would avoid a dangerous p