Page 31 of Taken By the Mafia King
“I sped things up for her, let her go gently. It was merciful,” Alonzo said. “Giuseppe… he gave her over to his men and… you can piece together what happened then and how I found her.”
I exhaled sharply, rage thrumming over my skin as I leaned forward and nodded. The de Lucas were almost as depraved as the Bianchi syndicate. Almost.
I dismissed Alonzo, knowing he’d have to slither back to Giuseppe immediately to gather more intel on the warehouse attack they were planning. I needed some air, but I stopped to tell Francesco to get the warehouses cleared out and prepare for company.
My men were gone within minutes, and the house fell quiet. Finally.
Maybe it was the rare silence that made it possible to hear the quiet sobbing from the top floor rooms where those who’d wronged me wept.
Or maybe I was just riding the edge of pure exhaustion after days of cleaning up Andre Bianchi’s messes.
I walked out to the back of the house where a large stone patio extended the length of my home. I sighed heavily and fought the urge to turn around when my elderly mother, dressed in a red velvet and mink-lined coat, turned in my direction. The cherry of her cigarette glowed bright crimson as she sucked in a smoke-filled breath.
“I heard you have a new pet upstairs.” She smirked, a subtle twist of her thin lips. “A Bianchi, no less.”
“The daughter,” I confessed, leaning my weight against the stone railing overlooking the wide, grassy expanse of my property.
“Kill her and get it over with,” she said as she lifted her slim cigarette to her mouth, the filter stained a deep berry color from her lipstick. “For your father’s sake.”
“It doesn’t bother you that the girl has no connection to Dad’s death whatsoever?”
She snorted with mirth as she turned to me, flicking her cigarette onto the stone pavers and tamping it out with her shoe.
“No one is innocent in these games, Killian. Don’t go soft on me now. You promised him on his deathbed you would avenge him. You promised you’d rid the world of all Bianchi scum, and lucky you, you have one locked upstairs.”
I swallowed, hating the acrid taste on my tongue as I turned away from my mother and walked back into the house.
She called after me. “Don’t play with your food, son.”
CHAPTER 25
SERA
Iwasn’t sure what time it was when Olivia waltzed into my room and tore open the heavy curtains to reveal another cool autumn day. Rain drops speckled the windows as gray clouds swirled over the sweeping grounds of my prison.
“You missed breakfast, again,” she chided, clicking her tongue at me as I remained curled in bed with the sheets tucked around my chin and neck to shield my face from the sun. “You really need to get yourself together, girl, or you’re going to end up dead.” Her sing-song voice grated on my nerves as she fluttered around the room, gathering laundry and dishes. She gasped at the bloodstained carpet, but her exclamation had nothing to do with the fact that someone had been beaten and bleeding in this room. “What a mess! This will take ages to get out now that it’s dry.”
How could someone be so chipper and lighthearted living this kind of existence? Did none of this faze her?
“I left you some lunch,” she called out with a touch of annoyance as I continued to lie there and ignore her presence. She sighed heavily and shut the door behind her when she left.
Alone once again, I rolled over to face the far wall. Gray, overcast daylight danced over the surface, casting long shadows in the wake of the furniture.
I’d kissed my captor last night. I’d kissed him knowing he’d be my death. I’d kissed him knowing he’d killed my brother.
I’d kissed him because I’d wanted to, which was the worst part.
I curled my legs into my belly and held my breath as I fought a wave of nausea brought on by my guilt and senseless desire for the Mano Della Morte.
The door opened again before I had time to pretend to be asleep, but it wasn’t Olivia this time. Tommaso walked in, his hands tucked casually in his pockets as he looked around, then settled his gaze on me. The corner of his mouth twitched into what looked to be a sympathetic smile, but it faded quickly.
“Olivia said you didn’t eat breakfast.”
“Why is everyone so dead set on keeping me alive when it’s clear that I’ll die here?”
“That’s not true.” His eyes roamed over the bloodstain like it wasn’t even there. Just part of the décor. “If I stay here with you for a while, will you eat?”
I sat up a little, suspicion tightening my brow. “Why?” The silky chemise I’d worn to bed grazed over my chest as I shifted my position, making me fully aware of how exposed I was. I reached over to the other side of the bed and grabbed the matching robe. The fine fabric dusted over my skin like a gentle kiss, and I shivered.
