The Mafia And His Angel: Part 1 (Tainted Hearts 1)

“What…are…”

“Do you know how I got this scar?” he asked, bringing a hand up to point at his face. I tore my eyes away from his chest and looked up. His eyes were blank, but his lips had thinned into a hard line.

Most of the time, I didn’t even pay attention to the scar on his face. It was likely because I had always avoided looking at his cold and angry face. But now that he pointed at his scar, I stared at it. The scar ran from his right eyebrow and down to his chin. It was deep and looked like a puckered slash.

It must have hurt a lot. I winced at the thought, but I wondered how he got it.

When I finally shook my head at his question, he nodded and continued to unbutton his shirt. Nikolay turned away from me, giving me his back as he faced the opposite wall. In a flash, he had his shirt removed.

Bringing my hand up, I covered my mouth as I gasped at the sight.

“Oh my God,” I breathed.

His back was covered with scars. They looked old, but none of them had faded away. Some were long and deep. The agony he must have gone through.

I saw his back muscles bunch as his body tensed at my gasp. Nikolay turned back toward me and I let out a whimper, this time tears blinding my vision.

His chest and stomach were covered in scars too.

“How?” I croaked.

“Six years ago, I was taken by Italians. They held me captive for almost four weeks, torturing me day and night. They wanted information.”

My heart stumbled at his words and I tried to calm my breathing. The Italians? Oh God. No. Not another one.

How many people did my family destroy?

“Did you? I mean, did you say anything?” I whispered, keeping my gaze on his scarred chest.

When I heard him scoff, my eyes snapped up. He looked at me like I had lost my mind. Shaking his head, he sighed. “No, Ayla. I didn’t spill anything. I would take a bullet for Alessio. Do you really think I would betray him?”

No, I didn’t think he would betray him. Nikolay was cold and hard. He appeared unfeeling, but from what I had seen during my short time here, he was loyal. And protective of Alessio.

When he said he would take a bullet for Alessio, I believed him. He looked proud when he uttered the words.

“I was barely alive when Alessio and the others found me. Because of severe blood loss, nerve damage, and brain swelling, I was in a coma for three weeks.” Nikolay paused and took a deep breath. “When I woke up, I had to learn how to walk again. And two days after, I was diagnosed with PTSD.”

My heart broke at his confession. I never expected this. Even though his expression had hardened, I saw a flash of pain in his eyes. And the tears that had built up in mine fell freely down my cheeks. Nikolay’s eyes widened at the sight of my tears and I saw his throat move almost painfully when he swallowed hard.

“Nightmares, hallucinations, deep anger, depression, and self-loathing. They became a constant in my life,” he continued, his eyes shifting away from mine.

His pain spoke to me. Because I knew what it felt like.

“I remember pointing a gun at my temple, wanting to end it all,” he said.

No.

“But Alessio talked me out of it. Viktor. Phoenix. Artur. Lena. They were all there. They cared. I’m alive today because of them,” he said.

When his expression softened, the cold look disappearing from his face, I sucked in a deep breath.

“You must be wondering why I’m telling you this?” He let out a harsh laugh before shaking his head. “I’m telling you this because I want you to know that I understand. Whatever you are going through, I understand. We understand. Nobody is perfect in this mansion. Some of us have painful pasts while other have less painful pasts. But we know. We understand. And we want to help.”

Nikolay was man of few words and for him to say this to me, it took my breath away.

Maybe they would understand, but I was still the enemy’s daughter.

Maybe if I was someone else, maybe if I wasn’t an Abandonato, it wouldn’t have mattered. But would they still feel the same way if they knew that I was Alfredo’s daughter? An Italian? The same family that they hated so much.

“I don’t know what you have been through. But if you’ve come this far, then you are a fighter. You are not weak,” he continued in a surprisingly soft voice.

Nikolay slowly moved toward me and stopped only inches away. He was so close that his legs were almost touching mine. I swallowed nervously, and from my sitting position, I had to bend my head backward to look up at him. He was so tall that the top of my head only came up to his stomach. Nikolay towered over me as I blinked up at him with tearful eyes.