Royal Mafia Box Set: Books 1-4

by Bella J.

  ***

  Antonio

  Lorik was stable but still critical. The bullet missed the main artery by a mere millimeter. But he lost a lot of blood, and according to Dr. Ramirez, it could still go either way.

  I stayed at the hospital until Karina arrived. After a slap to the face, and listening to her cursing at me in Italian, she told me to leave. In fact, she ordered me to fucking leave, screaming at me that she didn’t want me there, near her or Lorik. I didn’t once retaliate or demand to be spoken to with respect, because the truth was, she had no one else to blame but me. I was the boss. The life of every man who supported our family was my responsibility, and mine alone. If Lorik had to die, it would be a shame I would carry for the rest of my life.

  All of us knew there was a ninety-nine percent chance of someone getting hurt or killed. But for some reason, deep down, I thought it would be me. If it had to be anyone, it should have been me since I was the one who refused to give Doe back. Why? Why the fuck would I put every member of this family at risk for a woman I hardly knew—a woman who had the power to seduce me into darkness just by standing in the same room?

  God, if there was any doubt about how big of a selfish bastard I really was, there wasn’t any doubt left today.

  As I drove through the gates of our estate, I thought about Lucio and the Russian fucker waiting for me. I was ready. My mind and the rage seething beneath the surface of my skin was ready to do what needed to be done. I was angry. I was frustrated. And I was ready to go through hell to bring all this madness to an end. As a matter of fact, I was fucking looking forward to it. It has been far too long since I’d had the opportunity to unleash the demons that hungered for blood.

  The garage door closed behind me, and I got out of the car. On my way inside, I loosened my tie, pulled off my jacket, and rolled up my sleeves.

  Once I stepped into the same room we had Doe in a few days ago, I grabbed a knife from the table next to where Lucio stood.

  “Name?”

  “Fucker’s name is Andrei.” Lucio moved out of my way, and without fucking blinking, not hesitating for a second, I flipped the knife in my hand before jabbing it through the Russian fuck’s right thigh.

  He screamed, and I twisted the blade in his flesh. The cries that came out of his mouth sounded like a goddamn banshee right before fucking Armageddon. It was beautiful.

  “Andrei,” I wrenched the knife deeper, “sounds like a pussy name to me.”

  Sweat beaded on Andrei’s forehead, his eyes hard, jaw clenched, teeth gritted together while spit came from his mouth as he breathed rapidly.

  “Where is he?”

  “Fuck you.”

  I held out my hand, and Lucio placed another knife in my palm. Andrei’s eyes grew wide with fear. It was a fucking sight. Nothing got my adrenaline pumping quite like seeing a grown man fear me. The power, the control, it turned me into a cruel fucking god.

  A grin tugged at the corners of my lips, then I stabbed the blade into his other thigh. Shrieks of pain. That was all I heard. That was all I wanted to hear. It was like a goddamn melody to my ears.

  Blood oozed from the wounds, dripping down his legs onto the floor. The life that pulsed through his veins was in my hands now, and I was spilling it little by little, slowly draining it from what would soon be his corpse.

  His screams ceased as he puffed out shallow breaths, his face contorted in pain.

  “Where is Vadik?” I brought my face closer to his, wanting the fucker to look into my eyes so he could see my determination, my resolve to get what I wanted. And what I wanted was Vadik.

  “You…you will never find him.” Agony left him no choice but to breathe out after every word. “He will find her…he will always find her.”

  “Why does he want her so badly? Huh? Why?”

  His lips pulled tautly and he closed his eyes, grunting from the pain.

  I grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked his head up. “Talk!”

  Taught lips now spread into a smile. “She was always his favorite.”

  “Why? A man like him would have more than enough whores to entertain him. Why the fuck does he want her back so badly?”

  The antagonizing grin remained on his ugly motherfucking face, and I gave Lucio a nod. He grabbed Andrei’s face and held tight with fingers pressing deep into Andrei’s cheeks. A little vial stood on the table, and I picked it up, giving it a shake while I kept my eyes on our prisoner. I tilted my head, still shaking the bottle, making sure I gave him enough time to wonder what the fuck I was holding in my hand. I was a theatrical bastard, but it was because I knew fear was at its strongest when mixed with a lethal dose of uncertainty.

  “You sure you don’t want to answer my question, Andrei?”

  “I’m dead whether I answer you or not. So I might as well die without giving you what you’re so fucking desperate for.”

  I shrugged. “True. You’re a dead man either way. But your cooperation will determine how you die.” I unscrewed the top of the bottle. “Quickly and without too much pain,” I pulled out the syringe, “or slowly, with a prolonged amount of excruciating pain.”

  Lucio pulled his head back, forcing Andrei to look up at him. “Believe me, bro, he would much prefer the second option.”

  With the syringe in one hand, I placed the bottle back down on the table. “I’ll give you two seconds to think about it.” And then I ripped a knife from one of his thighs, the beautiful screams of a grown man filling the room. “One.” Then I tore the other knife out of his flesh. “Two.”

  “Fuck!” he cried. “I don’t know, okay? I fucking don’t know why he wants the slut so bad.”

  “Slut? Did you just call her a slut?” Anger instantly morphed into blinding fury, and I moved so fast, Andrei had no idea what was coming…until I squirted the acid straight into his fucking eye.

  Earlier, he screamed. He squealed like a fucking girl. But now, while the acid ate away at his cornea and the flesh around his eye, the sound that came out of his mouth was indescribable.

  Lucio let go of his head quickly to avoid getting the shit on his hands, and then we just stood there watching a man being tortured without even fucking touching him. His screams and squeals seemed to go on and on and on, never stopping. Probably because the acid kept burning, melting away his skin.

  Lucio leaned closer. “You know we’re probably not going to get anything out of him, right?”

  “I know.”

  “We gonna keep on torturing the dumb fuck?”

  I frowned. “What kind of question is that?”

  “Ah—”

  “Yeah, a dumb one. Now, give me the fucking pliers.”

  Lucio grinned. “Man, I love the sadistic fuck in you.” He handed me the pliers and took his place behind Andrei, grabbing his head.

  “So, Andrei,” I said loud enough for him to hear me between his ongoing cries. “Since you’re not talking, it would be safe to say you have no need for your tongue, right?”

  “No, no, no.” Hysteria replaced his pain and his fear. “No, God, no.”

  “You’ve got one thing right, at least. I am a fucking god.”

  Lucio held Andrei’s head in place, while I forced the pliers into his mouth. Son of a bitch pressed his lips shut, grinding his teeth so hard, I was pretty sure he cracked a few. But it was no use. All it did was make me break through his fucking teeth with the pliers to grab his tongue and pull it out of his mouth.

  Blood was already coating the steel of the pliers, and I knew what his next move would be. He would involuntarily bite down with his broken teeth, trying to pull his tongue back in. But he would only end up biting through his own tongue. So I moved fast, flicked out my blade, and then…I sliced through the pink, disgusting, useless piece of muscle.

  One shriek, one scream…and then the fucker passed out, blood flowing out of his mouth like a river of lies.

  Lucio let go of his head with a jerk, and it rolled down to the front. Snot, spit, and fresh blood dri
pped from his mouth onto his thighs. The buzz of adrenaline was still pounding against my bones, the pressure threatening to erupt. I was nowhere near done, my thirst to inflict pain nowhere near quenched. The longer I stared at his blood—blood spilled by my hands—the more I wanted to feed the beast inside me. And all he wanted was pain, power, control. It had been too fucking long since I allowed myself to enjoy dishing out pain with absolutely no inhibitions. Years since I unleashed the true malevolence that scratched against the surface of my existence, and it was fucking euphoric, leaving me wanting more. But I’d been down this road enough times to know this spineless piece of shit wasn’t waking up. It was over for him, which also meant playtime was over for me.

  I pulled out my gun and held it against the crown of his head.

  “Brucia all’inferno.” Burn in hell, motherfucker.

  The loud crack of the gunshot, the red of blood, and the impact of the deathblow, it all came together with one exhilarating shockwave I felt all the way to the marrow. It ignited an inferno of raging power with such furious force, I had no way of stopping it from consuming me. I wanted more. I needed more. Now that I had unleashed the beast, there was no containing it. My body was electrified with a rush that had my mind reeling—every primal instinct ready to dominate.

  I placed my gun behind my back. “Take care of this mess.”

  Lucio nodded, and I was out of there as if I had the devil himself on my heels. The only thing I wanted right at that moment was more. More power. More control. More domination. More goddamn ecstasy to flow through my veins. And I knew exactly where to find it.

  With one foot in front of the other, my determination only grew stronger with every step. The hunger, the lust, the absolute coveting of something which was forbidden yet within my grasp, had taken possession of my every action. Of my every desire.

  Killing the Russian fucker, showing these bastards the Valentis would not be fucked with, was a thrill that had my heart racing and my blood pumping in the most invigorating way. I wanted fucking more.

  Storming into my bedroom, the door slamming against the wall, I walked straight to the cabinet I had kept locked for so, so long. I grabbed the key from my closet and opened the lock. As I slid the door open, revealing what had been hidden for years, I let out a breath. It felt like I had been holding my breath ever since I bolted that goddamn lock shut. But now finally I gave in, I submitted to my vice, and there was no going back.

  I reached for the black whip, brushing my fingertips down the soft leather, and closed my eyes, remembering the power of mixing pleasure with just the right amount of pain. There was nothing like it. Well, maybe there was one thing like it…taking another man’s life—a man who deserved to have had his last breath ripped from his decaying body.

  Unhooking the whip from the rack, I pulled the leather across my palm. My cock was already aching from the mere thought of using the whip.

  In the back of my skull, I felt the prickle of warning, a voice whispering words of caution, reminding me of what could go wrong—what had already gone wrong when I allowed the ferocity of my savage nature to take over once before.

  But it was too late. The road leading me to this exact moment where I no longer had the strength to fight my cold-hearted disposition was set the day I opened that motherfucking container door. And now, here I was, at the end of the goddamn road—finally surrendering my fight and embracing my vice.

  Chapter 20

  Doe

  I couldn’t sleep. I felt restless, unease scratching against my bones. Not even the beauty of the full moon and the smell of fresh air along with freedom could chase away the disquiet of this unknown peril.

  My mind went back and forth from my hell spent with Master V, and the time spent here with Antonio.

  Master V.

  Antonio.

  Two completely different people. Different worlds. Yet I couldn’t stop feeling that this wasn’t the new beginning I had always wanted. This was not my escape from the darkness, from the demons who taunted and hurt me. And even though I was no longer with him, I didn’t feel free of Master V’s evil clutches. It still felt like he was close, as if he was still with me. Why, if we were worlds apart, would he still have this hold on me? Because he was a powerful man who promised he would rather bury me in his backyard than let anyone else have me.

  Unable to sleep, I got up from the bed and walked to the windows. A slight breeze blew through the curtains, the warm summer air caressing my skin. It felt good not to be cold all the time. To not shiver and curl into a ball to stop every ounce of heat from escaping.

  I took a deep breath, allowing the fresh air into my lungs. When would I see him again? When would I feel Antonio’s touch again? Dance with him again? When would he comfort me again? I knew it was foolish of me to want something I could never have—a man whose touch set me on fire rather than tearing me apart. A man who made me feel more than I had ever been to anyone before. If I was a smart woman, I would not have allowed myself to like Antonio’s touch so much. If I was a smart woman, I wouldn’t wonder what other emotion he could pull forth from the ruins left behind inside me.

  If I was a smart woman, I wouldn’t allow the tiny seed of hope for a better life to grow. I wouldn’t dream of things I had long thought impossible. But maybe, after everything I had felt with Antonio…maybe there might just be hope.

  The bedroom door opened, and I felt him before I turned. With my eyes closed, I could feel his presence filling the room, how he owned everything in it—including me.

  I heard the door shut, but I knew he hadn’t left. Slowly, I turned, my heart beating a staccato rhythm against my ribs. When I looked up and into his eyes, I knew why he was here. It was hunger, a craving for sin that brought him here…to me.

  My eyes caught sight of blood on his shirt, and I held my breath.

  “Are you sure I’m not the devil you should fear?” The leather of the whip in his hand dropped while he held onto the end, his stance that of a ruthless king. But not just any king. My king.

  Slowly, but with determination, he moved closer, my heart beating faster. I didn’t know if it was fear or anticipation. Maybe both. But I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Magnificently cloaked in darkness, he emanated dominance, vigor, and an energy that had the power to demand the ultimate submission.

  I swallowed, the claws of uncertainty reaching out, threatening to smother the seed of hope which was on the verge to sprout in to something beautiful. But the closer he came, his wicked intent becoming clearer with every step, the stronger that uncertainty grew.

  “Have I done something to displease you, sir?”

  He snorted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I sure hope so.”

  “Sir?”

  He flicked the whip, the sound of leather snapping against the floor sending a jolt of panic up my spine.

  “Are you afraid, Doe?” His head leaned to the side, his wicked gaze never leaving mine. “Are you afraid of me?”

  I couldn’t breathe, my mind a mess of incoherent thoughts.

  Fear. Anticipation. Panic and need. Every conflicting emotion took root inside me, and I had no idea how to distinguish between what I wanted, and what I feared.

  “I don’t know, sir.” It was the most honest answer.

  A rogue smile spread from the corners of his mouth. The same mouth I had tasted before. The same mouth that made me want things meant only for dreams.

  “I’m going to take that as a challenge.”

  He reached behind his back, and I sucked in a breath when I saw the rope. With the whip in one hand and rope in the other, he looked every ounce of the cold-blooded, callous, beautiful beast I had known him to be from the very first time I laid eyes on him. The puppeteer…and now I was finally the puppet.

  “Hold out your hands.”

  The slave in me didn’t hesitate for a second. Like a robot, I did as commanded. And with our gazes locked, he started to wrap the silk rope around my wrists, as if it were the t
entacles of his darkness wrapping around my soul.

  His eyes never left mine, his expert hands moving with the rope around my skin. It was easy to see that he had done this many times before. His skill and the feel of the silk against my skin caused alarm to knock at the back of my skull. But there was something stronger simmering inside me, a heat which started deep inside my core, spreading up my spine. It made me want to ignore every warning and to push back every fear. I had never felt so confused, so conflicted. Afraid, yet excited at the same time. The longer our gazes remained locked, the clearer his resolve became. He wanted to consume me. He wanted to own my body. But most of all, he wanted to control me. It was all there, his cruel intentions swirling around in his dark brown irises. The tick in his jaw and the veins in his neck painted a vicious picture of his frustration. Frustration of denying himself the one thing he wanted.

  Me.

  The white rope was secure around my wrists, tight—almost too tight. But pain was something I had plenty of experience with. In fact, pain had become a big part of my existence. It came hand in hand with the nightmare I had been living in.

  Then, he softly touched my cheek with his thumb, a single moment of tenderness. “You are the beauty sent to pave my way to hell.”

  Abruptly, he jerked me by the rope tied between my wrists and pulled me forward, toward the bed. There was no time for me to think, to act, or to say anything. Roughly and hastily, he tossed the rope over the bars of the four post bed and hoisted my arms up in the air, my back toward him, my toes barely touching the ground.

  My shoulders complained, and the muscles in my arms pulled tautly. Rapid breaths escaped my lungs with a huff, fear gradually starting to smother the eager anticipation I felt a few seconds ago.

  “Do you want to know why you’re not allowed to call me Master?” With a hard tug, he tore the dress right down the middle of my back. “Because the last woman who called me her master still wears the scars of my sin on her flesh.” He pressed his hard body against my back, his lips brushing against my neck beneath my ear. “My depravity destroyed her…just like it will you.” And then he ripped the shoulder straps of my dress, letting the tattered fabric fall to the ground.