The Mafia and His Obsession Part 2 (Tainted Hearts 5)

“Conceited? Demanding? Arrogant? Difficult? Ambitious?” I said, raising a mocking eyebrow.

Alessio chuckled humorlessly. “Yeah. I’d think those are a perfect description. Just ask my wife.”

He reached for the bottle of scotch beside him and poured himself a glass. “Shall we get down to business then?” he asked, his eyes briefly landing on me before he stared at Valentin again.

“Ah yes. We shall. All in due time, Alessio. All in due time.”

Alessio brought the glass to his lips, and he swallowed half of the contents down.

Beat. Thump. Beat. Thump.

I wondered if I had to extend this…this fucking torture.

Did I have to drag out the suspense this much?

Maybe…maybe I could make it easy…

An easy death. An easy target.

Alessio looked at me over the rim of his glass, his blue eyes cold as ice. They darkened a hint, showing me the evil underneath. But when he blinked, it was gone.

One of his fists clenched over his knee, but he stayed seated…as if he were waiting. Waiting for me to move, waiting for me to act. To finish this.

Tick…Tock.

Alessio placed the glass down, and he cocked his head to the side, staring, still waiting. The atmosphere of the office darkened, becoming more chilled. My finger feathered over the gun on my side.

I glanced at Valentin, and his lips were quirked up on the side, a small smirk. His gaze met mine, and then he gave me a quick nod, as if giving me his permission to do what I was meant to do. He was running out of patience yet still very adrenalized over this.

Tick…Tock.

I glanced back at Alessio. My King. The man who I had vowed to protect at all costs. I was only a little kid when we became inseparable, when I had realized the weight of my duty as his second in command. We didn’t come from the same womb, we didn’t have the same fathers, but we were brothers nonetheless.

I remembered the time we made our first kill together. We were twelve. It was my first kill, and it was Alessio’s third. His hit was precise, mine was slightly off. His knife had hit the heart, I had hit the artery next to it. There was blood. There was the scent of death.

In that moment, I had felt a sense of failure. I was scared of disappointing Lyov, my father, and Alessio. But then Alessio had walked over to me, only just a young boy but with a maturity that surpassed men years older than him. He had slapped me on the back and chuckled. I still remembered his words. “We killed him.”

Tick…Tock.

My watch was a glaring reminder of what I had to do. I looked at the minute hand, and it seemed to be frozen in time.

For the first time, I couldn’t find the satisfaction in dragging out the suspense. Blood roared violently through my ears and my head pounded. My heart thudded heavily through my chest and against my ribcage.

Alessio placed his glass down, and he sat back. His head was held high, his elbows resting on the armrests. His feet were planted firmly on the ground and he blinked, slowly.

Fucking hell.

The bastard knew it was suicide, and he was giving me an easy access.

I grasped the gun in my trembling hand. Valentin saw my movement and he sat forward eagerly in his seat. Alessio stayed frozen where he was.

He knew, he fucking knew…yet he wouldn’t move away.

WHY?

I wanted to scream at him, but I refrained from showing my inner turmoil. Bottling all the insane emotions inside, I watched the scene play out in slow motion. As if I were an outsider.

Although I was the one holding life and death in my bare hands.

Raising the gun up, I watched Alessio’s eyes widen for a fraction of second. My gaze saw the bob of his neck as his swallowed, saw the clench of his jaw before he steeled his features.

I heard Valentin’s laugh in my ears, searing through me, cutting me in an agonized way.

Beat. Thump. Beat. Thump.

He stared at my gun, pointed at him.

I expected him to flinch.

He didn’t.

I expected him to pull his own gun at me.

He didn’t.

He came here, unguarded, no shield…no weapon.

The bastard’s lips tilted on one side and he fucking smirked, like the devil he was.

Alessio raised an eyebrow, and I saw the movement of his fingers.

Do it, he dared. He mocked.

His blue eyes were the mirror to my soul. It reminded me of a moment that took place almost two years ago. In a dark alley, surrounded by friends, a brotherhood so tight we’d kill and die for each other.

Déjà vu could be a cruel thing.

Valentin tsked behind me. “Ah, Alessio, how does it feel? Betrayed by your own brother?”

Alessio didn’t take his eyes off me or my gun. And I didn’t give him a chance to answer.