Devil’s Thirst: A Mafia Stalker Romance (The Moretti Men Book 1)
Devil’s Thirst: Chapter 45

I take Amelie to the police station the following morning to file a formal complaint. She’s just as surprised that I take her to Malone’s desk as Malone is to see the engagement ring on her finger. He doesn’t say anything, but I see it register when they shake hands. His eyes cut to mine. I give him a look that says and don’t you forget it.

We give Malone a full rundown about The Society, what Amelie’s parents did to her, and the subsequent fallout, minus the part where Oran’s family kills off the entire disgusting organization. It’s a ton to unpack. To his credit, Malone doesn’t hesitate to take it all in. He asks good questions and reinforces my confidence that he’ll handle the case properly on his end.

Talbot was allowed to leave the station in the night. I figured that was likely, but the reprieve is only temporary. And the next time he’s taken into custody, it will be a whole different story.

After we leave the station, Amelie is noticeably quiet. Even a little withdrawn.

“You okay?” I ask once we’re in the car, though I don’t start the engine. I want her to have my full attention if she needs it. I can’t imagine the past few hours were easy.

“I think so. I’m just worried it’s not going to be enough. I can scream the truth at the top of my lungs, but if a jury doesn’t believe me, he could get away scot-free.”

“I’d say that’s highly unlikely. When the feds have a look at his computer—which they’ll do with your allegations that he claimed to have video evidence—the cache of child porn they replace will keep him locked up for good.”

Her head whips around, large green eyes staring at me in shock. “Child porn? I thought you said you guys didn’t replace anything substantial on his computer.”

“We didn’t.” I let the information sink in. “We may not have found evidence of rape on his part, but the man is a pedophile and a rapist. We know that for a fact. The evidence they replace on that computer ensures justice will be done.”

“You’d already planned to set him up,” she says quietly.

“Yes and no. We made sure the evidence was present. We weren’t quite sure yet how to bring it to the attention of the feds. Your bravery took care of that for us.”

“He’s not going to get away?” The cautious optimism in her tiny voice makes me want to build her a castle where no one can ever harm her again.

“I swear on my mother’s grave, John Talbot will spend the rest of his life in prison.”

Joy and gratitude light her face. “Have I told you before that you say the sweetest things?”

“Yeah.” I wink at her. “I think you’ve mentioned that.”

Ten minutes later, we pull into a parking garage at yet another government building.

“City clerk’s office?” Amelie reads off the sign. “What are we doing here?”

“Getting our marriage license. Gotta have the license before we can do the deed.” I get out of the car and go around to open her door when I notice she hasn’t joined me. “Something wrong?”

“Don’t people get those right before they get married?”

“Yeah, they expire after a while, so people usually get them like the week before the wedding.”

Amelie stares at me. I stare back, then squat so we’re at eye level.

“Baby, I stalked you, coerced my way into the apartment next door, then moved myself into your place—did you actually think I’d wait for a wedding when you agreed to marry me?” I know I should take this seriously, but I have to tease her a little.

Her glare tells me she’s not impressed.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it. But honestly, I love you. You love me. We know we want to be together, and I want the world to know you’re mine. I went four years without you. Now that I have you, I don’t want to waste another minute.”

“Well, when you put it like that …” she says softly, her head angling to the side.

I help her out of the car and kiss her cheek. “And that’s why there will never be anyone as perfect for me as you are.”

“Now you’re just buttering me up.” She shoots a playful glare. “What else are you planning?”

“Nothing!” I raise my hands to proclaim my innocence. “No actual plans. I have ideas, that’s all.”

She shakes her head with a laugh. We walk hand in hand to the clerk’s office and leave an hour later with a license to get married tucked securely in my jacket pocket. Only one thing left to do today, and it may take a while, so it’s time to get my girl home. I have the perfect wedding gift in mind, and something as important as that can’t be rushed.

“Furry pink handcuffs. Are you serious?” I stare at Tommy as he secures John Talbot’s arms over his head, hooking the ornamental cuffs to a chain hanging from the rafters. He’s not suspended, just uncomfortable.

“You said to bring something that wouldn’t leave marks. If you wanted something else, you should have been more specific.”

I huff and swipe the black fabric sack off Talbot’s head. He looks absurd restrained in fur cuffs, and I decide it’s actually a nice touch. Anything to demean him works for me.

“Let’s get this show started.” I yank the duct tape off Talbot’s mouth.

He sneers and looks like he’s about to spew some garbage threats until he spots his cohort bound in a chair, bloody and covered in bruises.

“John, I believe you know Sean.” Identifying the thug that Talbot paid to do his dirty work was easy. Finally getting to punish him for threatening Amelie was the perfect appetizer before the main course. That way, I don’t get carried away with Talbot. I made a promise, after all.

“What the fuck is this? You think you can hurt me and get away with it?” Panic raises the pitch of his voice, despite his effort to sound tough. “I’m a public figure. You can’t make me disappear without causing a stir.”

“Why would I want to do that? You’re an innocent man, right?” I say without a hint of emotion.

“I don’t kill people like your sort.”

“I’m glad you recognize the precarious nature of your situation because I am exactly that sort.” I grab a heavy pair of scissors from a table filled with tools. When I start toward him, Talbot’s tune quickly changes.

“Shit, there’s no need for this, okay? I can make your life easier—a friend on the other side of the fence.”

I yank his shirt out from the waist of his pants and slice the fabric from hem to collar. As the metal glides closer to his face, his sniveling worsens.

“Fucking Christ, don’t do this. Please, just tell me what you want from me.”

“We’ll get there soon enough.”

Once his shirt is nothing but scraps of fabric on the concrete floor, I do the same with the rest of his clothes until he’s completely exposed. I make sure to take my time. The suspense is half the fun, and judging by the bulging vein in his forehead, Talbot appreciates every tantalizing second.

“If you’re good here, I’m going to head out,” Tommy says after helping me secure my subject. He’s not a fan of torture, but not because of the pain it involves. He hates messes—blood splatter makes him twitchy. I think that’s why he’s so great with a sniper rifle and throwing knives. Minimal cleanup.

“Thanks, man. I’ll be in touch.”

While his retreating footsteps fade, I examine the sharp edge of the shears and slowly walk toward Sean, who is awake but in rough shape and silenced with a wadded-up rag in his mouth.

“Back in Italy, my uncle has a pig farm. What they say is true—those things will eat anything,” I muse as if talking to myself. “No pigs here in the city, but we have the next best thing.”

I click the lock on the giant barn door and slide it aside, opening the warehouse to the river several feet below. “Feeding someone to the fish may sound cliché, but it’s a classic for a reason.”

When I turn my stare back to Sean, he tries to scream at me. Looks like he’s not totally out of fight.

“Fuck, man. You’ve terrorized him enough. Look at him,” Talbot pleads on behalf of his cohort, but it won’t do any good.

I position the blades on either side of his pinky finger, then clench the scissors shut. Sean passes out while Talbot starts praying.

I pick up the discarded digit from the floor. Holding an inanimate body part for the first time is strange, but you get used to it.

“You’re a fucking psychopath, you know that?” Talbot spits at me.

“At least I target those who deserve it and not innocent young women.” I peg him with an icy stare as I toss the finger into the river.

“What do you want from me? I’m telling you that she came to that hotel voluntarily. Her own mother set it up.”

I make a tsking noise and angle my head to the side. “See, that’s the thing about statutory rape—even if she had consented, which we both know she didn’t—it’s still. Fucking. Rape.” Unchecked violence bleeds from my words. I can handle a lot of shit, but hearing this twisted asshole trying to paint himself as anything but a pedophile seriously pisses me off.

When I head back to the table, I swap out the scissors for a battery pack and clamps. Talbot is noticeably freaking out, but he doesn’t know the half of it until I attach that shit to his shriveled dick. He tries to thrash to shake off the clamp but hisses in pain and stops.

I have news for him. It’s going to get much worse.

Not as bad as I’d like since I can’t leave any marks, but sometimes less pain for longer intervals can be even more effective.

I ignore his worthless pleading and flip on the battery, savoring his screams.

The big bad attorney general openly sobs when I turn off the machine. “What do you want? I can’t undo the past.”

“No,” I agree. “But you can suffer for your actions.”

His watery, hate-filled stare lifts to mine. “Doesn’t that make you just as much of a monster as me?”

“Possibly.” I shrug indifferently, then turn on the battery again. I give him about twenty seconds to endure—enough time that his clenched teeth look like they might give way at any moment—then turn it back off.

“Tell me about your connection to The Society,” I instruct calmly.

His head hangs low, his chest heaving with panted breaths. “All I know is the shipping mogul Wellington was under investigation—a woman had been taken from his home after being trafficked. The case was a mess. Our guys fucked up all the evidence. I knew we didn’t have a leg to stand on, so when the Brooks woman came to me and offered a trade, it was an easy choice. The trial never would have happened anyway.”

“Wellington goes free, and you get to rape a seventeen-year-old girl. A win-win, is that right?”

Talbot starts sniveling and sobbing. “Her mother assured me … it was fine, and the girl never … seemed upset. It wasn’t like she fought me or anything.”

I’m so enraged I can’t speak. Instead, I turn the machine back on and watch him writhe until he pisses himself. I don’t turn it off until he looks on the verge of passing out. The asshole in the chair starts gagging on his own vomit. I take my gun from its holster, point it at the choking man and put a bullet between his eyes. I don’t need him anyway. He was a loose end and a convenient lesson to motivate Talbot. The attorney general is the only one who matters.

His story aligns with what we suspected. I’m glad to have confirmation, but I still need one more thing.

He’s panting while he weeps, his feet standing in a pool of his own urine. “Please, no more. Please.”

“We’re not quite done. I need one more thing from you. You told Amelie you had videos of her and her sister. Where are they?”

“I lied,” he blurts without a filter. “I swear, it was a lie. Her mother told me her sister had done the same thing—that it was some sort of ritual in their family. I think she was trying to assure me that it was normal for them. That’s as much as I knew, but when she died and people started disappearing, I panicked. Telling her that I had videos of her and her sister was the only thing I could think of to keep her quiet, short of killing her. I’m not a killer. I’m not a killer.” He breaks down again, sobbing, snot and saliva dripping from his lips.

When I reach for the battery, he cries out. “Please, if you’re going to kill me, just do it. You already marked the bullet. Just finish it.”

I walk closer and slowly circle him. There’s nothing like uncertainty to enhance the mindfuck of torture, and I want to make sure he leaves here with emotional scars worthy of his actions.

“Even if I were planning on killing you, I’d never let you off so easily. I’m afraid I made a promise to my fiancée that I’d let the justice system do its job where you’re concerned.”

“That what you call this?” he whines before instantly retreating with a litany of apologies.

I glare at him, waiting for his stupidity to run dry. When he finally quiets, I continue. “I’ll let the feds do their thing now that I’ve had the opportunity of a private word with you because I want you to remember this day and know that if you so much as think about Amelie or her sister, I will hunt down and erase not only you but your entire bloodline. The fact that you continue to breathe is only because she wills it. Don’t ever forget that.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but I’m done talking. I flip on the battery and text Renzo that I’m ready for help with cleanup. He tells me he’s got someone on the way. By the time I’m done typing my reply, Talbot is unconscious. I flip off the machine and head outside to wait.

The old me would light up a cigarette and hold in that first lungful of smoke until it burned. The temptation is still there, but I won’t go back to it. Besides, knowing I’ve done my job and kept Amelie safe is better than any nicotine high. I feel like I’ve proven myself worthy. I’ve learned from my past mistakes, and for the first time ever, I can honestly say I’m proud of the man I’ve become.

Now, when I take Amelie as my wife, I can tell her she no longer has anything to fear. While she and Lina were strong enough to risk videos of themselves being leaked, I know it still worried them. No one wants to risk that sort of public exposure and violation. My gift to her is the assurance that she’s finally free. She can set her fears aside and know that I will always keep her safe.

One week later, we meet up with Oran and Lina, Conner and Noemi, Gloria, Tommy, and Freya, of course, at a garden rooftop for an intimate ceremony.

“Mrs. Mancini, you take my breath away.” I hold her hands beneath an archway built of swaying ivy and marvel at my good fortune.

“I haven’t said I do yet,” she teases me.

I shrug. “A technicality.”

Oran cuts in. “One we’re about to remedy. You two ready?” As our officiant, he stands to one side of us while the rest of our family forms a semi-circle on the other. Everyone in our families always gets married in churches, so this wedding is unorthodox, but so are we. This is our big day, and we’re doing it our way.

Besides, it’s not like we have parents who will fuss about the location and traditions.

“Absolutely,” I say without hesitation.

Mellie grins at me. She’s truly stunning, having chosen a 1950s Hollywood starlet look with an ivory sheath dress, hair styled in perfectly smooth waves, and topped with a small fastener hat with a delicate white birdcage veil. Every inch of her is perfection, including the bright red lipstick I can’t wait to see circling my cock.

“I know we’re all incredibly honored to be here today to share in this special occasion. At this time, the couple will exchange vows.” Oran agreed to officiate under the express condition that he wouldn’t have to wax poetically about love and commitment. We assured him our aim was short and sweet, heavy on the short.

We wrote our own vows and haven’t shown them to one another. Our relationship is too unique to fit into a cookie-cutter script.

“Amelie, I vow to follow you to the ends of the earth and love you throughout the journey. To live my life dedicated to your happiness and to strive each day to be worthy of your love. I will honor you, protect you, and keep you all the days of my life.” I know I’ve done well when she has to blink away tears before she can recite her own vows.

“I choose you, Sante, to be no other than who you are. To grow with you and fall more in love with you each day. I trust in your integrity and have faith in your abiding love for me. I vow to love and cherish you so long as we both shall live.” The pride and adoration in her voice shreds me. I had no idea a few simple sentences could have me so choked up.

“Do we have the rings?” Oran asks, eyes scanning our small group.

Tommy steps forward and pulls the rings from his breast pocket. I’m so out of sorts that I almost take my own ring.

Oran nods and peeks at his phone. “Sante, we’ll start with you. As you place this ring on Amelie’s finger, repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed—”

“With this ring, I thee wed—”

“And pledge you my love, now and forever.”

I repeat the words and slide the wedding band onto my bride’s slender finger. She grins ear to ear as she holds my wedding band and repeats the same pledge to me. When that ring slides onto my finger, something ancient from deep inside me roars with satisfaction.

“By the power vested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Anticipating his words, I’ve already pulled her close and am pressing my lips to hers when he announces the kiss. Our family cheer and holler, surrounding us in love and encouragement—the perfect way to start this next portion of our journey together.