Page 25

Zyon

" I almost ripped George's fucking filthy fat arm off!

" I yelled, squeezing the steering wheel of my precious Maserati to the point of almost squashing it with my bare hands.

The fury coursing through my body made me shake and think about all the ways to punish that nasty pig for looking at my woman as if she were meat in the grocery store.

"If he ever lays his eyes on her in the same disgusting way as he did yesterday, I swear to God, I'll stab them out with a fucking dessert fork and feed them to Bluff!

" I threatened, ignoring the chuckle on the other side of the line.

Malin was quiet as usual, but Dorian enjoyed every second of my outburst.

"Bluff would love to have some new balls to play with," Dorian said, snorting in laughter. He knew my Cane Corso would ensure the fucker’s deserved discipline.

"He would spit them into George's greasy face," I barked, cursing under my breath to calm down a little.

The scene haunted me since Valeria met George, yet I didn't expect to go ballistic because of a handshake.

However, what infuriated me even more than his obscene glances were his lack of respect for her and his remarks that scared her.

If she were officially mine, he would be hanged on the street lamp before his apartment right now .

"I'm just curious," Malin pulled me out of my murderous thoughts, "what would you do if she had sex with another man? What if the man under the mask wasn't you but someone else?"

"I would cut his tongue off and watch him choke on his own blood," I spat, pushing the gas pedal down out of pure frustration. Valeria was mine. No one would touch her, look at her inappropriately, or be disrespectful. Not when I was the one watching after her.

"Judging by the words you used," Dorian interjected, clever as always, "tongue and not dick, I presume you had an appetizer but not the main course, brother. Who cockblocked you?"

"Oh, shut up!" I groaned, and they both laughed their butts off at my reaction. Still, after a few seconds, I snickered as well. It was so absurd all I could do was chortle at my misery. Valeria didn't have a clue how obsessed I was with her, how addicted I became after our meetings.

My skin tingled with excitement when the idea of our date came to my mind. It brought me some peace and sense to work through my day. The warehouse was prepared for an unforgettable night. I just had to solve a problem that was, along with Valeria, stealing my sleep.

"When will you tell her you've fallen for her like a donk for fresh hay?" Dorian asked after he stopped laughing, and I overheard the magazine click. He was preparing his guns. I looked to the right, where my golden semi-auto pistol rested on the passenger seat, sighing heavily.

"I want to do it every fucking second of every fucking day," I admitted, glancing into the rearview mirror at my bodyguards closely following me.

Jamal was glued to me like a jealous wife stalking her cheating husband.

It was annoying but deeply needed after three unsuccessful assassination attempts.

"If I disclose Chester, Valeria can end up getting hurt," I said, almost spitting on the squeaky-clean car floor from the thought of the bastard. My research showed the situation was much more complicated than I could ever have imagined. "Being involved with me will only put her in more danger."

"We will protect her," Dorian stated firmly, clearly not understanding my concerns. "We agreed on that. "

"Of course we will," Malin confirmed. "But we don't need to draw more attention to her."

"Exactly," I breathed, relieved that at least one of my brothers understood my point.

"So, you'll play the stalker game with her until she uncovers that it's you?" Dorian rumbled, making me frown.

"She won't find out," I said, parking my car behind theirs before the old building in the docks.

"Yeah, because she's stupid pretty doll face that doesn't use her brain," he deadpanned and cut the connection. I rolled my eyes and got out of the car, glaring at him. He leaned against the front door with his arms crossed over his chest, shaking his head.

"It won't end well, Zyon," he warned, pushing himself off the car and walking to the entrance where Malin had already waited.

"Enough of this," I hissed, irritated to the bones by his attitude. I knew he meant well, but I had already decided about my approach and wasn't in the mood to change it. "Right now, it's the only way of having her without endangering her life."

"Or you simply enjoy hunting her," he mused, winking at me playfully. "Let's get this over with. You don't want to be late for your lady."

Without waiting for my response, Malin opened the screechy metal door and entered the dark space. The air was heavy with smoke and stale because there was no air conditioning or windows. The walls were damp, and spiders and webs inhabited every corner.

The sand under my feet dirtied my shiny shoes, and it got inside to tickle between my toes.

Or maybe it was only my imagination, but I wrinkled my nose, hating the sensation.

Once, I had an exhibition match for a charity, and I knocked down my opponent in fifteen seconds just to get out of the pool full of sand.

The memory gave me chills even twelve years later.

"Four rooms, thirteen prisoners," Malin announced, lighting a cigarette in the small space. I coughed, waving my hand like an over-affected blonde during a bee's attack.

"Can you stop?" I groaned, glaring at him. He scoffed, throwing the cigarette on the ground. "Thank you," I said, giving him a pointed look, but he completely ignored me. Every time he didn't like something, he didn't react. We were invisible to him .

"Diana Santangelo threw a tantrum and bit one of our men," Dorian disclosed with a chuckle. "She demanded to be in the room with her sister and two other boys, her friends. Also, she claims to have critical information and wants to meet us all."

Furrowing my brows, I quickly assessed the situation.

My brothers abducted the children of the businessmen who stole from us.

Every family had a representative inside the cell.

We didn't intend to hurt or kill them. We just wanted to spread panic here and there, to heat things slightly.

What could be worse than feeling helpless and worrying when your kids didn't return home?

"Okay." I nodded, waving at Jamal and three other men to join me. "Go inside those two rooms and cook them a little before we come. I want them drowning in their fear."

"Yes, boss." Jamal smirked, and they left. I plastered an emotionless mask on my face and turned the knob of the third room, slowly walking inside.

Three barely twenty-year-old adults and one teenager were tied to the chairs, their expressions showing their fear.

They all bowed their heads before us as if we were some royalty, and I deeply inhaled the potent smell of hysteria lingering in the air.

They were terrified like little mice caught in a trap by a big, fat, hungry cat.

I drifted my gaze from one to another, relishing in their raw anxiety and noticing Diana's younger sister, Matilda.

She was mute after living through the trauma of witnessing her mother's death.

For her family, it was a blow that only Diana withstood.

Their father tried to flush his pain in vodka, and their brother joined the military, cutting all ties with them.

"Thank you for coming here today," I started mockingly, knowing none of them joined us willingly. "I believe we'll have some fun together."

Diana glared at me like the fierce young lady she was, but the others looked like they had accepted their unfortunate fate.

"Except for you, darling." I turned to the mute girl sitting near the wall, who shook violently but didn't raise her head to look at me.

Without a second thought, I pulled the knife out of the holster tucked behind the waistband of my pants.

Effortlessly, I cut the rope that held her, and she finally connected her wet, petrified eyes with mine.

"I'm sorry, Matilda," I said, wiping the tear falling down her pale cheek. "You shouldn't have been brought here. My men made a mistake. I promise no one will hurt you. "

She gulped and whipped her head to the side where her sister sat, gaping at me like I grew another head.

"If she cooperates, she'll be okay, too," I added, rising to my feet when Matilda cast me another pleading glance. The poor girl went through so much I was tempted to kick the ass of the idiot who took her here.

"The devil has a heart. How charming," Diana sneered, probably feeling her chance, but I would never be as gentle toward her as I was to her sister.

"What information do you have, honey?" I asked sweetly, towering over her.

There was a time she almost broke her legs while running behind my ass to try and get me into a relationship.

Too bad she was so young. I would surely find some use for that sassy mouth.

But it was too late now to ponder that. My body, heart, and mind belonged to another.

"Our families were forced to conspire against you," she declared, her grass-green eyes swirling with sincerity. Suddenly, she looked like an innocent twenty-year-old girl, but I wouldn't let her fool me. She had to give me more.

"How convenient," Dorian grumbled, thinking the same as me.

"It's the truth!" she yelled, tugging on her restraints. "My mother died because of them!"

The words washed over me like an ice-cold wave, touching the deepest corners of my dark soul.

Her mother suffered a torture no woman should ever experience.

It was outrageous to attack the wife and teenage daughter, but Michelle Santangelo refused to hunt down the men who eviscerated his family’s happiness.

No one had the right to do it, just him, and he hid behind the walls of his mansion, ignoring the world.