Pregnant by the Mob Boss {18+}

34

I was never going to forgive somebody for a crime like hers.

I entered a dark room at the end of the hall where the main torture chambers lay. I turned on the dim lights and I took in the room that consisted of four cement walls.

The woman herself, Cordelia, was tied to a metal chair in the middle of the room, her ankles were tied to the metal chair as well as her hands.

But she had struggled, I could see it because of her bruised wrists and purple ankles.

She hadn't been touched or tortured yet, instead she had been locked inside the dark basement room for exactly twenty-four hours, to break her mind, to tear her emotions into shreds.

There was a record player next to the door with a few vinyl records inside a box.

I chose a vinyl disc and put it on the record player, as Prokofiev: Romeo and Juliet, Op. 64 / Act 1 - Dance Of The Knights began to play.

Some classical music doesn't hurt when torturing somebody.

I went on to take a seat in the corner of the dimly lit room, on a black leather chair. I crossed my legs while I took out one of my cigars and a lighter as I lit the cigar.

I began to draw in long, slow smokes, because I was aware I would be in here for a long while.

"Do you wish to confess to your sins?" I began to ask Cordelia, the woman who was never a mother to me, instead she always had a weird infatuation with me.

After my mother died of childbirth, Cordelia married my father when I was only a few months old because she was a daughter of a consigliere from the Italian mafia.

But whoever her father had been did not matter inside my torture chambers.

I did not care about a person's power, wealth or fame when I tortured them, I only cared about torturing them.

I never spared anybody, all the people who ended up in the torture chambers died, and the woman tied in the chair would soon die too.

"I won't repeat myself again. Do you wish to confess to your sins?" I asked her one last time, while I drew in another smoke, the nicotine spreading throughout my lungs.

Her face went pale when she looked up at me, her lips dry from dehydration, and her gaze was that of a helpless woman.

She was utterly helpless because nobody would have rescued her, or I was going to kill that person too.

"Lev... I'm your mother." The woman answered, but not the kind of answer I would have liked.

No answer by her was good enough even if she did confess to her sins, she would have died by my hands either way.

I would not let a person go who dared to hurt Rose Spencer, anybody who had the audacity to lay their hands on my woman would end up dying by my hands, it was simple as that.

"You're crazy for that woman... and she's a Spencer too." Cordelia hysterically laughed, but her laughter was empty, as she had no more emotions within her.

I had broken Cordelia, she tried to act tough, but it never worked, she was too weak.

"She's a whore..." Cordelia says, as she soon will wish that she had never uttered those words.

I laid the cigar between my lips while standing up from the armchair, and taking off my black coat, throwing it on the leather chair.

My gaze was glued to Cordelia the entire time as she shivered because there was no kindness or mercy in my eyes.