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

She stopped beside me, her face impassive as she stared straight ahead. Her sadistic smile was gone and now replaced with a more contented, relaxed one.

Nina removed her black leather gloves. They were most definitely stained with blood, but the thing with black was that the blood we spilled never showed on it.

She passed the gloves to Phoenix, who was standing beside her, her eyes on her hands as she inspected her nails.

“I need another manicure,” she muttered and tsked.

Shaking my head, I glanced at the door.

She noticed where my attention was and sighed. “Enzo is hiding at the Black Club.”

My eyebrows furrowed in question. “The MC?”

“The one and only. They work for Alberto. Undercover. No wonder they’re helping hide Enzo,” Nina replied with an exaggerated huff.

“Anna finally admitted it?” I asked quietly.

Nina nodded. “It took me a little longer to break her.” She shrugged before continuing. “But no matter how long it takes, by the time I’m done with someone, they are always left broken.”

That was true. Nina was good at what she did. She liked to call herself Death. She earned that name, though.

“She is pretty loyal,” Nina added. Unfortunately, when it came to life and death, her loyalty flew out of the window.

“Is she alive?” I asked, although I already knew the answer.

“Well, she was when I left…I thought it would be nice to let her think about her life. I was in a generous mood, lucky her. But she stopped breathing about two minutes ago,” Nina replied dryly, looking down at her watch.

Viktor scoffed. “Generous mood,” he muttered under his breath.

Nina heard and sent him glare. “All of a sudden, I’m not in a generous mood anymore. Don’t test me, Viktor.”

She turned back to me and lost her glare in the process. Her face was still cold, but there was a hint of sympathy in her eyes, if it even was possible for her to feel anything.

“About Ayla, I’m sorry,” she said regretfully. “I know what type of man Alberto is. I saw how he treats the women in the clubs, and I can’t imagine what Ayla is going through right now.”

My chest tightened at her words, and my body grew cold. Shaking her head, Nina glanced down before continuing. “I also owe her an apology. For what I said. Although I didn’t really mean what I said. I was testing her. To see if she was strong enough.”

Viktor shook his head and huffed. The others rolled their eyes. Nina glared, her eyes shooting venom.

“Oh please, all of you know that I could have broken her body in half before she even had a chance to lay a finger on me,” she hissed, her anger evident. “That’s enough to prove I didn’t mean it.”

I closed my eyes with a tired sigh. “You can apologize to her when she’s found.”

When I opened my eyes, I saw Nina nodding. When we fell into silence, she stepped off the porch. “If you need any other help—for anything—just call,” she said, her back straight, a look of determination and true loyalty on her face.

“I hope you find her soon,” Nina mumbled before walking away. “She deserves more than the life she got.”

I struggled to breathe, my chest heaving with the effort to be in control. I stared at Nina’s retreating back, and after a few minutes, I finally found myself calming down.

Although my blood still roared with the need to kill, I kept the rage underneath the layers on my skin.

I glanced back at the door. I should have just walked away and let Phoenix take care of the cleaning, but curiosity got the best of me.

I stepped back into the house and was assaulted with the smell of blood. I stared at the woman tied to the chair. Or what was left of the woman.

I felt no pain. No remorse. No emotions at all.

I approached her slowly and stopped a few feet away.

Viktor swore behind me. “Fuck yeah. Now that’s what I call art.”

“Creativity at its best,” Nikolay added quietly. Phoenix and Artur chuckled.

I just stared. Her head fell limply against the back of the chair, her body sagging as her blood poured around her.

She was missing all the fingers on her right hand. All her nails from her left hand. Her missing fingers were on the floor in a pool of blood. She was missing an eye.

It looked like it had been carved out in the most painful and horrifying way. Not that I was surprised. Her other eye stared straight ahead, lifeless. The light had left her. Her face was covered in blood; her clothes were soaked with it.

The smell of death hung in the air. An unfortunate death for an unfortunate situation.

Warring emotions raced violently through my mind, but I quickly tamped them down. Now was not the time to get weak over a death.