Alessandro's POV~
“Anyone else?” Roaming my eyes around the long table, I wait for a response.
“Don,” One of them says and I gesture him to proceed.
“It could be the Russians.” Seeing my gaze harden, he hurries to explain. “I mean, we have never been on good terms. They have always envied our power and position secretly. So there is a possibility that it were them.”
“They are not brave enough to do that now. They were not brave enough to do that back then.” Francesco inputs.
“And even if they were, they would not have gotten their hands on something so confidential. There has to be an insider who leaked our private information.” Gabriel says.
Slapping my hands on the table I get off my chair, my eyes fierce with determination, getting everyone’s attention. “Russians or not, I do not fucking care.” Taking in their expressions, I continue, “They trespassed our territory. Attacked us when we were unarmed. Killed our families. Violated our women. Did not even leave the infants. There were our fathers, mothers, wives, husbands, sisters, brothers, sons, daughters. The people we held close to us. So, I expect you all to put aside your relations, be it your friend or girlfriend, again I do not give a fuck and give your everything in this retribution. I want what they snatched from us back. Our lost happiness. Even if it can not bring back our dear ones, it will definitely satisfy their souls and our bruised dignity.” My loud voice echoes in the large hall. “Fill your veins with enough wrath and hatred instead of blood for I will not settle for anything less. We have waited for years. Now they will face the worst of their fates because famiglia viene prima.” I roar the last three words.
(Family comes first.)
Everyone shouts, repeating the words of oath after me.
The ring of a cell phone resonates in the room, making them look in my direction. I peer down and see a very known name on the screen.
I wonder what made her call me after what happened that day at the restaurant. She looked like she was not going to talk to me anytime soon.
I quickly look up at my men. “I want any and every lead you can find. The meeting is adjourned.”
Receiving the call, I get out of the hall, “Hello,” My voice calm and composed as usual.
“Uhh…I-I need help. He i…” comes her frantic voice which instantly alerts me.
But she does not complete the words instead the sound of something being thrown is heard along with a man swearing.
My jaws clench.
A man.
I wait for her to say something more. Anything. But everything goes silent.
Pressing the phone to my other ear, I ask, “Hello, Angel? Are you there?”
Still nothing.
I check the screen to see if she has cut the call. But no. It is still going.
Worry fills my insides and I take out another cell from my pocket, calling Samuel, my tech man, not cutting her call.
“Evening, boss.” He greets.
I am not in the mood of pleasantries.
“Track the call I am attending right now.”
“Ok, boss.” I can hear the sound of keys clicking. He is already on it.
“I want the location in a minute. If not…”
“I know better.” He replies.
My men know me so well.
“Good. I am waiting.” I tap my feet on the floor impatiently.
“Do not cut the call. I am almost there.” He says in seconds.
I can always trust on him. There is nothing he can not do.
“Sending it, boss. Check your phone.” He breathes.
Seeing a message pop up from him, I end both calls and get inside my car, opening it.
The location he sent is not too far from here and I park my car in the neighbourhood within minutes before getting out.
I run up the pathway to the door. It is locked. Not wasting more time, I shoot the door open with my gun. I could care less about the noise or neighbours. They are the least of my concerns. My men will handle that later. Right now getting to Angel is my top priority.
Entering, I lock the door, looking for any possible threat. It is empty. I hear distinct voices coming from a room upstairs. Following that, I take the stairs and slam the door open to that room.
The scene inside makes my blood boil and run cold at the same time.
Angel is on the bed. A boy is over her, covering her body with his and kissing and groping her forcefully.
He is so engrossed in what he is doing that he does not even hear me enter.
But what makes my body more tense is her laying so lifelessly there. She is not even putting up a fight.
Covering the distance in two long strides, I fist the fucker’s hair and get him off of her.
“Who the fuck…” He does not get to finish before I grab him by his neck and slam his head repeatedly on the wall. The white paint rapidly turns red.
My eyes are blood shot in pure anger, the vein on my forehead protruding.
He dared to touch her!
He dared to touch Angel!
He starts crying out in pain and when it seems like he might die from blood loss if I keep banging his head, I loosen my grip only to strangle him with my bare hands this time.
No. He will not die like this. I do not give an easy death. It is next to mercy and I never show that.
He claws at my hands, gasping to breathe. His face has now turned blue from lack of oxygen.
But I am too blinded by rage to even think straight.
With every gasp, my hold tightens around him, the nails of my thumbs digging into his pulse point, making it harder for him breathe. He is this close to dying with blood oozing out of his neck and from the back of his head.
But the sound of soft whimpers stops me dead in my tracks. My fingers around his neck loosen and the puttana drops down to the floor, holding his neck, gulping air pathetically.
(Bitch)
Turning around, I see her. Angel. She is crying on the bed.
Leaving him there, I run to the bed and take her in my arms. She jerks away from my touch, making my anger shoot through the roof.
“Angel, it is me. Alessandro. See.” I say in a soft voice as if I am talking to a child. But she is no less than a child now. In fact she needs more caring.
She slowly looks up at my voice, her once beautiful eyes now filled with big fat tears. Her curved up lips replaced with quivering ones. The top she is wearing is ripped in some places. Her hair is a mess. The lip-gloss now smudged around her lips and I realize how much I hate seeing her like this.
“Cazzo, Angel.” I curse looking at her state.
(Fuck.)
“Al-Alessandro” She whispers, as if in a trance, wanting to confirm it is really me and I nod my head, opening my arms.
She jumps into my embrace without wasting a second, holding my jacket and starts sobbing. “You came.” She says.
I hold her closer to me, rubbing her back. “I came. For you.” My chin on top of her head.
“H-he ..he tried to..to-to..” She stutters.
“I know. You do not have to say anything.” I rock her back and forth.
“I-I ..” she starts breathing hard and I get worried.
Holding her face, I look into her once lively eyes. “Angel, breathe.” I say but she does not seem to hear me.
“Angel. Breathe with me. Look. In and out. In and out.” I breathe with her, trying to get her to normalize but she is still not doing.
“Fuck it.” Taking a deep breath, I cup her cheeks, connect our lips and exhale into her mouth. Having no other option, she gulps the air. Her eyes wide. I do it for some time and when her breathing gets back to normal, I leave her lips, regretting instantly.
Her lips swollen from what I did, she looks at me with surprise and parted lips.
Those lips. Fuck those inviting lips!
I know I am a bastard for thinking like this when she is not okay. but I can not help it. The sparks are too prominent to ignore. My body reacts to her in a way it never has. Even when she is doing nothing but just sitting there in front of me.
“I want to go home.” She says, meekly.
Shaking my head out of those inappropriate thoughts, I nod my head, saying, “Okay. Come on.”
She goes to straighten up and I hear some rustling from behind. Turning, I see that boy trying to hold an alarm clock from the table beside him to throw at us.
Turning back, I beckon her with my fingers. When she is close enough, wrapping my left hand around her head, I pull her to me and bury her face in my chest.
Putting my palm on her ear, I order her, “Close your eyes.”
“Why?” she asks in a small voice.
Even in this condition she does not stop her questioning. Though it makes her her and I feel relaxed that she is slowly getting fine.
“Just do it.” I say, this time more firmly and she obliges.
Ensuring that she can not see anything, I pull the trigger with my right hand and she flinches in my hold but I tighten my arms around her.
She is too innocent and pure. Not made to see such cruelty. Not suitable for this world and I want to keep her that way as for long as possible. I will not let anything or anyone corrupt her.
His muffled cries can be heard now.
“Keep your eyes closed.” I say and she listens this time without any questions.
Going to the boy, I pull his shirt over his head and wrap it around his mouth, knotting behind his head so can not make noise. The bullet hit his knee. He will not be able to get up. From the exertion he will most probably loose consciousness in ten minutes but will be alive.
I want him living, breathing for what I want to do to him later. For what he did to Angel. He will regret ever laying his filthy eyes on her. I will make him taste his own blood.
But for now, I can not kill him. Not when she is here, watching me and I am sure she will not like me with his blood on my hands.
I would like to be clean for her.
Everything sorted, I get back to her. Seeing her tattered clothing, I shrug off my suit jacket and put it on her. The cloth looks so huge on her. The long sleeves swallowing her small hands.
“Your phone?” I remember, from where she called me.
She points to the bathroom at the corner.
Her cell is on the floor with multiple cracks on the screen. That figlio di puttana must have thrown it when she was talking to me.
(Son of a bitch.)
Beside it is her purse and a crumpled piece of paper. Bending on one knee, I take the paper and turn it. There is a number written on it.
Merda!
(Shit!)
This is the note I left in her room that day with my number on it. In case she got in any trouble. Which she always does. Like today. From the day we have met she has proven me right. This girl attracts evil.
I would have thanked god if I was not an atheist. What would have happened if I did not leave my number? I do not even want to go there.
Pocketing all her belongings, I get back to her.
“Can you walk?” I ask her but she does not respond.
I guess, she is still in shock.
Crouching, I wrap my arms around her back and the back of her knees, lifting her up in my arms. She hides her face in my shirt, sniffling silently and clutching the fabric.
She looks so damn fragile like this. So soft. So breakable.
How could he do that to her?
How could anyone do that to her?
Not just her. Any girl.
Forcing yourself on women does not prove your masculinity. Taking care of them and respecting them do.
I get down the stairs slowly, careful not to scare her more than she already is. Locking the house, when I open the side of the passenger seat and settle her, she is already sleeping. The things today must have taken a toll on her body. Then rounding the car, I get on my side and start the engine. My hand goes to her forehead, checking her temperature from time to time, knowing that some people get fever after a traumatic experience and I turn on the heater when I see her shivering slightly in her sleep.
On my way to her dorms I text Carlo, one of my men, to clean the mess, take care of the neighbours and security cameras and bring that boy with him to the dungeon.
Just thinking about what I will do to him there makes me excited.
I loosen the tie around my neck and the first two buttons of my shirt, feeling hot.
Get ready, boy. I will show you my personalized hell.
I smirk.