Unraveling Him | A mafia Story

Chapter 57 - Dose of Insanity

"God help anyone who disrespected the queen."

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Nikolas's POV

I peeled my eyes open to a room cloaked in shadows, the dimness a reflection of the darkness etched deep within me. Every inch of my body ached, the pain a tangible reminder of the wounds engraved in me, both seen and unseen.

A low groan left my throat as I pushed myself up from the couch, the echoes of what unfolded the night before reverberating within the confines of my skull; loud, chaotic, and uncontrollable. I sat down, my feet hitting the cold floor beneath and a heavy exhale left my lungs, yet the tightness in my chest refused to dissipate.

My gaze flickered toward the windows, their drapes drawn tightly shut, allowing only a feeble stream of light to trespass through the little gap. Scanning the room, I looked for my phone, retrieving it from the table to check the hour. It was barely seven in the morning and I felt myself sink back into the couch. I allowed my eyelids to drop down; exhausted, tired, drained, and the wound on my back was aching like no other.

Raising my shirt, I inspected the bandage on my back, tracing the memory to how the doctor professionally dealt with it...Yet, the rest was a blur—how did I leave and end up here, how did I fall asleep on the couch? All was a blur. Last night was a haze, an enigma that refused to solidify into coherent recollection. It didn't feel real, almost like if I went up to my room right now, I would find her inside, peacefully sleeping, as if nothing ever happened.

As if everything was okay in the world.

As if Isaac didn't exist.

As if he didn't manage to taint the very last good thing in my life.

He succeeded in ruining this too. He managed to give and take it away just like this; with a snap of his finger.

I admit it. I'll never match his strength, never reach the heights he's attained. I won't deny that he has...broken me, both physically and mentally, from the day I was born, and perhaps until my last breath. The power he wields over me is indescribable; it leaves me drained to the core.

The knock on my door pulled me from the depths of my thoughts. I blinked, trying to sort through the chaos in my brain but failed, everything was just so loud and on overdrive. I was fully aware of how her presence silenced all the voices in my head but I think I forgot to what extent because at this moment, I felt like my brain was on the verge of unraveling.

Before I could dwell further on who would be here at this time, I heard the sound of the keys clinking and I stayed seated in my place. It was Alex for sure. I sighed and rushed a hand over my face, Ronald must've told him about the attack last night.

The door opened, then closed, and footsteps approached. He came into view, pausing by the door as his eyes fell on me. Lines etched between his eyebrows as he stepped forward, his gaze scanning me from head to toe, as if he could discern every detail.

"What the hell happened?"

He dropped on the couch beside me, his eyes trying to detect if anything was out of the ordinary, "Ronald told me the bunker was attacked," Sometimes I don't understand if Ronald works for me or him, "What happened? He said you get hurt, where? Show me."

My eyebrows pulled closer, "Show you what?"

"Where you got hurt."

"Why?" I asked.

He shot me a glare, his hand landing on my arm and trying to move me around to check himself, "Hey, hey, what are you doing?" I shot out, scooting away when his hand curled over my shirt, ready to pull it up.