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

Not a deranged monster. Not Alessio Ivanshov.

With a sigh and a heavy heart, I walked away. Closing the door of the washroom, I shrugged off my shirt.

I got into the shower, letting the cold water rain down on me, washing the blood away. Washing any evidence of what I had done in the past hours away.

With my hands pressed against the wall, I tried to breathe through my constricting chest.

I stayed there, not moving until I heard the door open. My eyes squeezed shut, knowing who it was.

There was some shuffling and then the shower doors opened. I felt a soft hand on my shoulder and heard her sweet voice.

The water went from cold to hot, and I knew she switched it.

“Alessio?”

I didn’t turn around. “Alessio, look at me.”

Not moving, I leaned against the wall.

“Please, Alessio.” As soon as the word please was out of her mouth, I swiveled around, facing my Angel.

She palmed my cheeks and stood on her toes. Ayla placed a soft, gentle kiss on my lips. It was a sweet kiss.

I couldn’t move. Her lips moved to my cheeks, kissing each side. She nipped playfully at my nose before kissing it.

And then her lips moved to my forehead. They lingered there for a second before she placed another soft kiss too.

My Angel wrapped her arms around my waist, her pregnant belly pressing against my stomach. She held me to her, her head over my racing heart.

She laid a kiss there and then hummed almost lovingly. “I missed you, Alessio.”

My throat closed up. The love in her voice made my heart leap. Wrapping my arms around her, I pulled Ayla against me.

We held each other like this, our arms firm around each other. We didn’t let go as the water cascaded around us.

She held me in her embrace, and I held her in mine.

“I love you, Angel,” I whispered in her ears. “I love you so fucking much.”

Chapter 23

Ayla

The sound of the door opening brought me out of my slumber.

I saw Alessio coming to the side of the bed. He blended almost fully into the darkness, but I saw him. I felt him.

He didn’t touch me. I thought he would take me in his arms, but I never felt his warmth. Alessio was silent while I kept my eyes closed, waiting for him.

When I felt him move, I looked to find him walking away. My heart drummed, feeling his loss.

The air felt heavy around us. Alessio’s shoulders were hunched together, like he was in pain. I didn’t like that. Alessio’s pain was my pain.

I watched him go into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I waited for a few seconds, my fingers itching to touch him, to feel him, to hold him.

When I couldn’t bear it any longer, I threw the covers away and struggled out of bed. It came to a point where it was harder to get up from lying down.

I padded to the bathroom quietly. My fingers stayed on the door knob, debating if I should give Alessio privacy. My mind told me yes, but my heart refused. It pulled me inside, telling me to hold Alessio. To give him comfort.

I didn’t know what was eating him from the inside, but I had to take it away.

His back was to me when I walked inside. Alessio heard me, but he stayed still. His hands were against the walls, his head hung low. Alessio had his shirt removed, but he still wore his pants.

I watched the water cascade around him as I removed my dress. Dropping it the floor, my eyes moved to his discarded shirt. It was black, the same color he always wore.

I licked my lips nervously when I saw the wet patches. I couldn’t see the color, but I knew it was blood.

My heart stuttered at the sight, and my eyes moved back to the man in front of me. I should be disgusted, but I wasn’t.

Alessio Ivanshov was the man I loved. Whether he was a monster, a heartless killer, or my sweet lover, I loved all sides of him.

Every side of him was what made him Alessio. He wouldn’t be the man I loved if he wasn’t the killer.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside the shower. Alessio’s shoulders tightened, but he didn’t move. The water was freezing cold, so I quickly turned the tap to the warm side.

My hand came in contact with his cold skin, my body moving closer to his. “Alessio?”

He didn’t face me. “Alessio, look at me.”

Alessio leaned heavily against the wall, and I moved even closer. “Please, Alessio,” I begged.

As soon as the word please was out of my mouth, he swiveled around, facing me. His expression was pained, like he was battling something in his mind.

Without a word, I palmed his cheeks and peppered his face with kisses. With each kiss, I showed him my love. No words were needed. I just held him. I loved him with my touch.