The Mafia And His Angel: Part 3 (Tainted Hearts 3)

My fingers wrapped around his hair, fisting it and dragging him out of the chair. My knees came up hard into this side, cracking his ribs. When I heard the satisfying sound of bones breaking, I released him.

Alberto fell to the floor at my feet.

Viktor and Nikolay came to hold him down. Phoenix held his legs. I squatted down next to him.

I held the whip in my hand, but it was no use to me. I didn’t want the whip. I wanted the handle, the splintered handle. It was made of wood, perfect for what I had in mind.

I pulled his pants down and laughed as he tried to thrash, but he was completely trapped. Nowhere to go. Just like he had trapped my Angel.

“You’re going to enjoy this,” I whispered in his ear. “Take it like a good boy, okay?”

Watching him struggle under me, I chuckled darkly. Slowly I pushed the handle into his ass. His screams rang in my ears, but I savored them. I savored his pain.

The handle was just a few inches inside his rectum. I paused, waiting, letting his agony drive him insane, pushing him further into the darkness.

He sobbed against the floor. With an angry growl, I shoved the handle fully up his ass. Alberto bellowed out, but I just kept going, pulling out slightly before pushing it back in. Again and again, I tortured him.

His hole was bleeding severely. The splintered handle was covered with his blood, but I kept going. “You took her. Again and again. When she didn’t want you, you still took her. How does it feel to have something up your ass when you don’t want it? Huh?” I roared.

Alberto whimpered and cried out. I patted his back. “Shh…didn’t I tell you? Take it like a good boy. You like this, don’t you?”

Blood continued to seep out as I shoved the handle back in, lodging it deep inside of him. His head came off the floor as his body spasmed in absolute agony.

I left the handle there and turned to face him. His face was wet not only with his blood, but his tears too.

“She cried too. But you kept assaulting her. Your tears just remind me of Ayla being in pain,” I sneered, grabbing his head and slamming it into the floor.

I pulled the handle out, painfully twisting it as I did. Standing up, I turned away from Alberto.

I walked to Nina and handed her the whip. “Have some fun,” I said, raising an eyebrow. She took the whip from my hand and walked toward Alberto.

“Oh, I will definitely have fun,” she replied, her lips widening in a sadistic smile.

I watched as she pressed her heel into the back of Alberto’s knee. The heel sank into his flesh, and he screamed, trying to escape the cruel assault.

“You know how disgusting it was, letting you touch me every time? You make me sick,” she hissed, straddling Alberto’s back. Without warning, she shoved the handle into his hole again.

I nodded at Viktor, and he quickly came to my side. His eyes were just as deranged. I knew I looked the same.

The very monsters everyone knew us to be.

“Do what you want with him. I don’t care. I will come for him in the morning,” I said and then paused when Alberto let out another loud scream.

“I want to spend tonight with Ayla.”

Viktor nodded in understanding. “She misses you.”

I sigh, already knowing that. I fucking missed her too. Every minute away from her felt like a stabbing pain in my chest.

“Just keep them alive,” I said, nodding towards the Alberto, Enzo, and Artur.

“Tomorrow they will meet their end. I will finish what the fucking Italians started,” I snarled, my fingers tightening in fists.

Viktor nodded again. “I’ve got your back, Alessio.”

I knew he did. He always did have my back.

After clasping his shoulder in a show of gratitude, I left the basement and made my way to my Angel.

Chapter 22

I opened the door quietly and walked inside. I stopped next to the bed, staring down at my Angel. She was sleeping peacefully, a tiny smile on her lips. She must be having a good dream.

Making sure I didn’t wake her up, I took a few steps back. I didn’t want her to see me like this. This was the last thing she needed.

I knew she wasn’t scared of me…of who I truly was. But I didn’t think she was ready to know the things I had done. And would keep doing.

In the end, I was truly a monster.

That was never going to change, and I didn’t want to change. It was who I was.

I stared at Ayla, and for a brief moment, I let myself think of a different possibility. What if I was different man? Someone Ayla could proudly say was her man?