ALESSANDRO: Book 3 of The De Luca Brothers Series [COMPLETED]

26:

My head throbs, a deep pounding that I can't shake which follows through with a wrecking ball colliding into my skull. I let out a groan as I let my head roll backwards, inhaling a jagged breath whilst I slowly crack open my tired eyes. My hands are bound behind a back of a chair, my feet tied to the legs with another secure rope around my waist.

I sigh.

"Angelo?" Whispers a course, pained voice of someone I'd recognise instantly.

"Leone? A-are you okay?" I ask hastily, however my dry mouth and parched throat leaves me words sounding cracked and croaky.

"I've been better," he admits with a sarcastic snicker, however I can hear the agony in his words; he's trying to play it off but I know better.

The room itself is dark, it takes a while for my eyes to adjust but I can just make out a door to my right as well as another bound figure sat in a chair opposite me. It's him. Otherwise the room is empty and dull, with a musty smell of old dust.

"Don't lie," I whisper brokenly. "Don't lie to try and make me feel better."

He sighs, "They've cleaned my wounds, added a soothing balm but it still feels painful. It's nothing I can't handle though."

"Why haven't they killed us? Why are they trying to heal you instead of kill you?"

"I guess they want to question us," he shrugs. "No use having a dead gang leader to interrogate."

"True," I swallow the forming lump in my throat as I make eye contact with him. "Leone, you think we're going to die here don't you?"

"It's likely."

"Likely?" I snort and look away in disbelief. "Sure, that's a way to put it."

"Don't be like this Angelo. Don't be bitter."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realise me most likely dying should put a smile on my face," I bite. He frowns within the darkness and I can't help but grimace, "I'm sorry. It's just that I was hoping everything was going to go smoothly, you know? We'd win, we'd live a life together and then it's happily ever after. But it never is. I don't even know your real name, you know how sad that is?"

He mutters something.

"Sorry?"

"I said," he clears his throat. "Alessandro."

I blink in surprise before hesitantly nodding, "It's a nice name."

"Thank you," he mumbles. "I don't get called it often."

"'Cause you're the big, bad gang leader," I joke. "God forbid you get called your real name. Very bad for business, hm?"

He smirks and looks down at his lap.

"It suits you," I remark.

"Yeah," he nods. "I guess it does. Very Italian."

"Very," I nod in agreement. "I'm going to call you Al."

He winces, "Please don't. Seriously."

"Okay," I pause. "Al."

He rolls his eyes and chuckles lightly, "You're a strange one Kitten."

Someone knocks on the door, three short and concise thumps before a lock is inserted into the door and a latch is undone. Two very distinctive sounds. The door opens with a firm push.

"Oh look, isn't it Russian Bitch from Hell," I groan and roll my eyes at the sight of her. "I'd appreciate it if you put a bag over your head since you're giving me an even worst headache."