The Mafia And His Angel: Part 2 (Tainted Hearts 2)

Phoenix caught my eyes, and he nodded. I didn’t even have to say anything. He understood what I wanted. He grabbed the woman by the arm and started pulling her away and out of the house.

The wife and the baby would be given a safe place to stay. The innocents would be safe, while the evil would be chained.

“One last chance. Anything you might know. Tell me and I might let you go back to your wife and daughter,” I hissed into his face.

It was a lie. He wasn’t leaving this house alive. He knew it was a lie. We all did.

“I don’t…kn…ow…I rea…lly don’t know. But…please. Don’t…hurt…my wife and daugh…ter.”

I sighed and shook my head. I stood up and faced my men. Viktor looked pissed. Nikolay was ready to murder someone. Artur was glaring down at the man with venom.

Phoenix came back inside, and he rubbed his hand over his face, a sign of fatigue. We were all tired. Dead on our feet. But we were still not giving up. Not until we found Ayla.

I saw Viktor’s eyes widening and then Nikolay’s. “Alessio!”

Guns were drawn, and I swiveled around, my gun pointed at the man in a split second. Five shots rang through the air and the sound resonated around the walls of the house.

Five bullets.

And all five had pierced the man’s body.

One in his chest, two in his stomach, one in his neck, and the last one between his eyes.

One bullet from each of my men. And one from me.

He sunk to the floor soundlessly, the gun he had drawn on me falling limply through his fingers.

“Another stupid man dead,” Viktor spat.

Without a second glance at the dead body, I walked out of the house. My phone rang in my pocket, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

When I saw the caller ID was unknown, I picked up the call, knowing already who it was.

“I left another gift for you,” I spoke before Alberto could say anything.

“Killing my men won’t get you to me,” he mocked.

“Maybe you should stop being such a coward and face me,” I hissed through gritted teeth.

Every day I got a call from him. Every day he taunted me. And every day I was helpless as I listened to Ayla’s cries.

If only his phone wasn’t untraceable. The bastard enjoyed playing with me every day.

It was a game. We were both playing it. It was a dangerous game, and one of us was going to lose in the end.

And I was going to make sure it wasn’t me.

“Ah, why would I do that? I’m enjoying my time with my woman here. We’re making up for lost time.” He chuckled cruelly.

My blood ran cold as my anger burned like lava. It burned under my skin, and my body shook with it.

“I’m not going to let you break her,” I said, my fingers folding into a fist at my side.

“Ah,” Alberto tsked and then laughed. “You’re too late. I have already broken her. I have plucked every single feather off her wings. I took until she had nothing left to give, and still then, I kept taking.”

My heart ached, my stomach rolled, and I almost doubled over in pain. Ayla. Ayla. My sweet Angel.

“So you see, in the end, I have won.”

I refused to believe it. I just had to get to Ayla. I would cast away all her nightmares. I would take away all the bad memories. I had done it before. I would do it again until she’d be whole again.

“No,” I snapped. “You haven’t won yet. Your death is coming, Alberto. Start counting your days.”

I hung up before he could say anything else.

Throwing my phone against the car, I closed my eyes.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Angel. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, but I’m coming.

Chapter 34

3 weeks later

I stared at the piano.

Ayla was sitting there, just like always. Her hair was down, flowing in beautiful soft waves at her back. Her eyes were closed, a small smile on her lips as she hummed and played the piano. For me. For us.

I smiled too. She was so beautiful. My Angel.

Ayla slowly glanced up, and her captivating green eyes met mine. She blew me a kiss, and I reached to grab it. She laughed, and I smiled again.

Suddenly the laughter stopped. Ayla stared down, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

No. Don’t cry, I wanted to say. I reached forward, and just like that, my Ayla disappeared.

I closed my eyes tightly, my fingers tightening around the bottle of alcohol. My head spun, and the heartache never left me. I was drunk, like every other night.

I wanted to forget. But then I felt guilty and ashamed. I couldn’t forget.

Even though she was gone, Ayla never left me. Even when I was too drunk to remember my name, I never forgot Ayla. She was always there. I could feel her. Sometimes I saw her, too.