Owned by the Italian Mafia Don: A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Possessive Mafia Kings Book 2)
Owned by the Italian Mafia Don: Chapter 26

It’s been forty-eight hours since the threat of Bianchi. We’ve been planning, preparing by gaining more weapons, but mostly we have been trying to replace intel as to why this gem is so important. I want to know why my wife’s life is in danger because of it. Bianchi should be financially set. This diamond should mean nothing to him but since it does, it has me too curious. The more I know about this diamond and Bianchi, the better chance I have of protecting Rosie.

We’ve grown so close over the last two days and I’m starting to feel like this is more than a contract or more than an agreement.

It’s bigger.

I kiss her cheek and she grins, flipping a page in her book.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to do that,” I say, kissing her cheek again.

“You two make me sick.” Matias enters the room with Gianni.

Gianni laughs but then sees me narrow my gaze at him and he covers it with a cough.

Smart man.

He also has his laptop tucked under his arm. “I have information you’re going to want to know about Bianchi.”

I open the fridge and grab a sweet tea, handing one to Rosie. Twisting the cap off, I hand Rosie’s to her first. When I sit down next to her, I place my hand on her lower back to ease the tension. The moment Gianni said he had information.

“What is it? Don’t leave anything out.”

Gianni nods, opening the laptop then punching in his password so fast, I couldn’t tell anyone what it is.

“Okay, so this will be a lot. We did a deep dive and had to sweet talk a few officers down at the department.” He rubs his eyes and yawns. The dark circle under his eyes proves he hasn’t slept. He’s been working tirelessly to replace out more information. “I was able to get access to Bianchi’s phone records. Don’t ask how.” He presses another button and a few pictures come up with text. “This man right here—” he points to a bald man with a skull tattoo covering his entire head “—His name is Zander Rostova. He’s a Russian black-market gem dealer. From what I understand, this diamond has been in the Bianchi family for generations. Other than that, I haven’t been able to get more information from the internet, but we may or may not captured one of Bianchi’s men and he might be downstairs tied to a chair.”

“And have you gotten anything out of him?” I ask.

“No. He won’t talk.”

A sardonic noise is all that’s heard, and I realize it’s coming from me. I stand, unbuttoning my sleeves to roll them to my elbows.

“We’ll see about that,” I state.

“What?” Rosie turns to me and grabs my bicep, digging her hold in so deep, it almost hurts. “No. What are you doing? You aren’t going down there.”

“Yes, I am. I have to.” I kiss her forehead. “I have to get every detail I can so I can protect you. Tomorrow is the end of Bianchi’s deadline. I don’t know what he has planned. I need to be prepared. I’ll be back. Okay? I want you to go to the room, turn on the TV, and lock the door. I’ll come for you when I’m done.”

“Ari, don’t do this. Don’t go there,” she begs, her eyes watering as they become so big, I can see the whites of them. “I don’t want you to do this. Have one of them do it.”

“No. This is personal for me. I’ll bleed every drop out of every person who dares withhold any information that can hurt you or threatens to physically harm you. I will enjoy the torment I bring upon men who hold you over me.” My fingers pinch her chin. “No one will take you from me, Rosie. In order to do that, I have to become the man you hate.”

“I never hated that man,” she admits, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I didn’t understand him. I do now.” She stands, wiping her cheeks and snagging her drink to prepare to go to the room. “Please be careful…I—”

I hold my breath, waiting for her to finish her sentence. I know my mind is playing tricks on me. There’s no way she almost said those words. She can’t.

“—I’m going to worry,” she says instead. She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me gently.

“I promise. I’ll be safe. Nothing will keep me from you, Tesoro. No one can. Make sure you take some snacks. I know how hungry you’ll get,” I tease which makes her smile.

“Okay.”

“I’ll make sure she’s settled before I join you down there,” Gianni offers. “We’ll make sure she’s set in the bedroom for a while.”

“Thank you, Gianni. Matias. Lead the way, please.”

Time seems to slow as I walk away from my wife. Her hand doesn’t leave my arm and the further I walk away; her hand loses its grip, and it slides down until all that’s touching is our fingers. I don’t let go and neither does she until we both take our final steps away from one another.

And then her touch is gone and the speed of time returns.

I can’t look back. I won’t. If I do, I’m worried I’ll disappear into the bedroom with her and never leave. If I’m not careful, I could see myself giving up everything if it meant vanishing into a private world with her.

“Are you okay?” Matias asks me, gripping my shoulder. “You don’t have to do this. I’m happy to – I just thought you’d want to.”

“I do. No, I’m fine. I’m just… “ I rub my chest, a heavy ache weighing me down and everything inside me is telling me to turn around, but I can’t.

“You’re falling in love with her, aren’t you?”

“I am and I’m not ashamed of that.”

“I’ve always been envious of how easily you feel things. I’m numb to that, I think. After…everything we’ve been through.”

“You aren’t numb, brother. It’s just been a long time since you’ve felt alive.”

“I’m good with how I am. It’s easier that way.”

I don’t say anything in return to that because nothing I say will change his mind. I’m worried about him. He deserves everything good in this world and I’ll make sure I do what I can to make that happen.

Stopping at the end of the hall, I stare down the dark corridor and the man I am with Rosie disappears somewhere inside me and the man Carmine prepared me to be, emerges. My footsteps are heavy down the hall, echoing with determination and the promise to kill.

I kick the door open, and it slams against the wall. The overhead light above Bianchi’s man reminds me of an interrogation room. He’s tied to a metal chair that’s sitting over a large drain.

Things can get…messy.

“I’m not telling you shit,” he spits, a wad of blood and saliva almost touching my loafers. Greasy dark hair hangs in his face, covering one of his eyes. They are voided of any type of emotion. He’s a pit of nothingness, destined to die for nothing because the man he serves is nothing.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” I say, bending down to cage him in with my arms. “You don’t realize that this room is where my expertise was born.” This room is part of the basement Matias and I found ourselves trapped in. “You are going to scream, and no one is going to care. No one is going to come for you. No one is going to save you. You will either die quickly or slowly. The choice is yours.”

He laughs, a manic, malevolent husk that reminds me of what a true villain sounds like. He’s got no soul, no heart, and his mind has been poisoned by the way of life Bianchi makes him lead.

“Cut me into pieces and feed me to the fish. I don’t fucking care. I’m not telling you shit.”

I lean away, nodding in understanding. I push my sleeves up my arms and stroll to where the door is. Chuckling, I press a button next to the light switch and the wall begins to move, lifting to show my weapons of choice.

Knives, guns, chemicals, and so many other fun things that I haven’t used in a while. I run my fingertip over a sharp blade, the lingering pain of the small stab wound Rosie left pulses, which makes me smile.

Ah, my Tesoro is a natural with a knife. I’ll have to make her one, custom to fit her hand so it’s the right size and weight.

“Which one do you like?” I ask him, spreading my arm to showcase the weapons as if they are trophies.

There.

I see it.

The shift in his eyes as he swallows.

He’s afraid.

“What the fuck is this?” the words break mid-question.

I grab a pair of pliers, my favorite weapon. My tried and true. They aren’t expensive or anything special, but they know how to get the job done.

“Matias? Take off his boots please.”

My brother nods.

“What the fuck?” our captive kicks and slams Matias right in the chest.

My twin barely grunts, snagging his leg to hold him still.

“Is this some sick twin fantasy shit? I’m not into that,” he goads which only has Matias rolling his eyes.

“Yes, that’s it. We have you tied to a chair for sexual purposes. How did you know?” Matias smirks, tossing the man’s boots across the room along with his socks. Matias violently grips the man’s chin until his cheeks pinch and my brother spits in his face. “I can help but wonder how many disappointed women you’ve left in your pathetic wake. I should call them and show them how a real man fucks.”

I chuckle, loving the rage behind our victim’s eyes. Men like him are too easy to upset. It’s always the same thing with them. Threaten their manhood and they always have to try to prove themselves.

“I’ll go through your phone later for their numbers.” Matias grabs the phone from the counter that Gianni must have taken from our new friend and my brother waves it in his face. “This will be fun.” He tucks the phone in his pocket, then leans against the wall, crossing his arms.

“What’s your name?”

“Fuck you,” he sneers at me, tugging against the restraints. The more he tries, the more the spikes on the inside of the cuffs dig into his wrists.

Drops of blood begin to drip onto the floor and Bianchi’s man winces.

See, the Milazzo men are given lessons to withstand torture. It’s another way we are better than Bianchi.

“We can play that game.” I bend down and open the pliers, pinching his toenail in the teeth of the tool.

“Wh-What are you doing?”

“I’m showing you what happens when you don’t answer my question.” I rip his toenail off and he bites back a scream.

His entire body shakes. “Is that all you got?”

“Do you want to replace out? Or do you want to tell me why Bianchi needs that gem before Zander replaces him?”

“I’m not telling you shit.”

“Hmm,” I nod, then force open his mouth and grip a tooth with the pliers. “Are you sure you don’t want to answer?”

He doesn’t change his mind and this time he screams for the heavens to hear. His tooth clinks onto the floor, dinging against the stainless-steel floor.

“I can do this all night. I will do this for days. Weeks. I will drain your blood to weaken you only to transfuse it back, but I’ll make sure it’s tainted with a virus that will kill you. I will cut every inch of your skin. I will castrate you. I will not think twice of your screams as your die because you are nothing.” I grip his tongue next and twist. Blood fills his mouth, and he coughs, red covering his entire mouth.

His shouts of pain fall on deaf ears.

Heaven isn’t listening. There is no God here. I was trained by the Devil himself.

I am Hell.

And this sorry excuse for a man is the soul I finally get to reap.