El Pecador : El Santo Book 2

by M. Robinson

  I jerked back with wide eyes, blown away.

  The crowd didn’t hesitate in chanting, “Death! Death! Death!” with several wagers for Rubino mixing in between.

  He was allowing these rich ass fucking people to play God, because money could literally buy you anything. Including watching and betting on someone to be murdered for pure entertainment and fun.

  Vlad turned and watched from where he stood, his expression void of any emotion as Rubino’s fists ripped Noah to shreds. Causing his body to tumble around in circles, finally landing flat on his stomach, face down.

  Rubino jumped around him with his fists up, daring the motherfucker to get up. “Come on, you pussy, can’t even fight for your life?” he taunted Noah. “You haven’t seen nothing yet. Get up!” Right when he was going in for the kill, Noah sat up on his hands and knees and glared right into his opponent’s eyes.

  Blinking away the haze, sweat, and blood gushing from the severe gash above his left brow, waiting to attack and fucking slaughter. He caught Rubino’s foot that was aimed directly at his face and forcefully shoved it out of the way while he simultaneously pushed off the ground to stand. Using all his strength, he gripped onto Rubino’s head and started kneeing him repeatedly in the face. Savagely pushing and pulling his skull toward his knee, ferociously connecting them at the same time, executing one hell of a fucking blow and the comeback of a lifetime.

  Making the crowd go fucking ape shit with bets, chanting, “Noah! Noah! Noah!” and for the first time that night…

  I saw Vlad fucking smile, now recognizing all along what he had truly been waiting for.

  And right then, I felt her. The only goddamn angel in the room. I found her guarded stare from across the distance between us, mirroring mine from the scene unfolding in front of her as well. We locked eyes through the chaos exploding around us, as if we were the only two people in the closed insidious space. Trying to seek refuge within each other, fully aware this was all sorts of fucked up.

  There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt in my entire being that she didn’t fucking love me as much as I loved her and, for the life of me, I could never figure out why. I was slowly tearing down her guarded wall which I couldn’t have been more fucking grateful for. I was just as exhausted from the bullshit between us as she was, if not more. I was far from a patient man, especially when it came to her. Feeling as though I’d already been waiting several fucking lifespans to claim her as my own, jumping over hurdles and through hoops to get to where we were now.

  Amira was the love of my life.

  The purpose of my existence.

  My torment and my goddamn comfort.

  I couldn’t tell you how long we stood there, looking into one another’s eyes until Roman abruptly grabbed onto her arm, tugging her away. Breaking our connection.

  It was then I realized the room was being cleared out. The fight was over and people were walking up the stairs past me to go celebrate Noah’s victory and their blood money, exiting the main event. I peered back toward the middle of the room where Rubino’s lifeless body was being dragged out through another exit. Vlad hovered above Noah with his arms still crossed over his chest as his fighter sat in a metal chair, spaced the fuck out while a man who seemed to be a doctor was checking him over.

  I looked around for Amira again, quickly realizing she disappeared. They must have left through another exit during the chaos because there was no way she slipped past me.

  Fuck.

  Taking one last glance at Noah, whose spirit screamed broken and fucked as much as his body did, I turned and sprinted up the stairs. Rushing my way back toward the estate, needing to find her, feeling like my life depended on it. The rooms were already crowded with endless amounts of people feeding off the depravity of each other. Music played loudly through the speakers as everyone mingled and carried on without a care in the world, not giving a flying fuck about what we all just witnessed. I hated Amira being here among all these soulless people, she didn’t belong in this world.

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  My blood boiled to the point of searing pain, blinded by craze and madness looking for her but coming up empty. I knew she was still at the party—I felt her presence—but she was nowhere to be found. I decided to grab another drink at the bar, hoping it might help my overly distressed state. Standing there, only thinking about her as I downed my drink. I couldn’t control the inner turmoil or the wave of emotions soaring through my mind, taking over my body.

  For a man who prided himself on control, I had absolutely none when it came to her. She owned every last part of me, proving it heavily with every passing moment, and with each rigid, deep breath, and with every blink of my panic-ridden eyes, I still was unable to find her.

  Nothing logical was able to form in my judgement, other than my love and devotion for a woman I never deserved, but would be mine nonetheless. Just as my last thread of patience was about to fucking snap, I really lost my shit when I spotted Vlad out the corner of my eye, talking to a group of guests out on the balcony. The bastard was once again about to be on the receiving end of my fucking fury. I rushed through the crowd of people, not giving a shit who I knocked into, and I was in his face in two seconds flat.

  “Where the fuck is she?” I glared at him.

  He narrowed his bemused eyes at me, arching an eyebrow. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “I’m here for Amira, and if you don’t tell—”

  “Amira isn’t here. I don’t know where she is. Why the fuck do you keep showing up to places you aren’t invited to?”

  “She left?”

  “Left where?”

  “Jesus Christ, motherfucker. Here. Did she leave after the—”

  “What are you rambling about? Why would she be here? I didn’t invite her or you. Now get the fuck out before I have you removed, permanently.”

  I jerked back, confused. Scoffing out, “What the fuck? I got an invitation—” I stopped myself, an internal thought from our last altercation came flooding back.

  “I’m the last man you need to be protecting her from,” Vlad argued, catching me off guard by his statement. “There are far worse men in our world to be worrying about. My intentions weren’t malicious, at least not tonight.”

  “Fuck…”

  A guest tapped on Vlad’s shoulder, making him turn around, and I hauled ass, leaving him there, tearing back toward the basement with my thought from earlier splitting through my mind.

  A property like this was bought for one reason alone, complete and utter fucking privacy, used for what I was soon to find out.

  I thought my life had ended when I left Amira in Cuba, but the chain of events that happened in the next few minutes proved I couldn’t have been more fucking wrong. For the second time that night, I willingly walked into the gates of Hell, realizing it was never a set up for me.

  It was one…

  For her.

  TWENTY-TWO

  AMIRA

  “Fuck, Amira! Wake up!” I heard the faint sound of Roman’s voice in the distance. “If you lay a hand on her, I will kill you. Do you hear me, you son of a bitch?” A piercing sound shrieked through my ears like metal being dragged across the floor, followed by a thud.

  Where was I? Why was I so cold? Why couldn’t I see anything but darkness?

  A damp shiver trickled up my spine as I willed my eyes to open. “Roman? What’s going on?”

  I don’t know how much time had passed before I woke up, blinking through the dizzy and disoriented daze from the blunt force trauma to my skull. Last thing I remembered was walking toward a hidden exit when someone tapped on Roman’s shoulder as if they knew we’d be alone and cold-cocked him, sending him to the ground. Just as I turned to see who it was, the butt of a gun hit my temple, knocking me the fuck out too.

  “Amira! Keep your mouth shut! Don’t tell them anything! Not one fucking thing!” Roman raged in a tone that resonated deep in my bones.

  I tried to sh
ake off the haze, struggling to stand upright off the bloody concrete, but my head was fucking pounding. I gave it another try, needing to get to him, this time succeeding by using the rusty wall as leverage. Placing my hand over the swollen bump on my head, I tried like hell to focus on the scene in front of me. Roman’s body was thrashing around as three men in ski-masks dragged him toward a metal chair in the middle of the basement. The same spot where we’d just watched another depraved act of humanity go down.

  I forced myself to keep my shit together, knowing what would happen if I showed any sign of weakness toward these pieces of shit. Every bone in my body was still, every muscle in my core clenched, every single part of me was unable to move, witnessing the scene unfolding before my eyes. Not helping my disposition to remain unfazed as they continued to crudely tie Roman to the chair. He tried to fight them off with all his strength, clawing, shoving, whipping his body all around. Taking hit after hit they delivered to the side of his head and torso for each failed attempt to break free and come rescue me.

  The only sounds I could hear were my pounding heart and my thoughts and memories hammering through my mind. Taking me back to another place in time where I hid in a kitchen cabinet and watched another man I loved with all my heart, try to save me from the monsters who wanted to tear us apart.

  Shred by shred.

  Limb by limb.

  Life by life.

  I started to regain sensation in my body, realizing very quickly I was no longer strapped with any of my guns. They must have stripped them from my inner thighs, the thought alone causing bile to rise in my throat. There hadn’t been a day in the last nine years I wasn’t packing heat, unprotected, defenseless, at someone else’s mercy. My mind incessantly shifted for what felt like the tenth time when I peered around the room, counting off a total of thirteen masked men. Four with Roman, four guarding each of the exits, four scattered around the basement, and one pointing a fucking gun to my head a few feet away.

  “Well, well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with their presence. Did you take a nice nap, sleeping beauty?” the man holding me captive announced in a thick Italian accent.

  I grinned, cocking my head to the side. “No need to knock a girl unconscious to feel her up. I would have handed my guns over, all you had to do was get on your fucking knees and say please.”

  He smiled, narrowing his beady eyes at me. “You should be thanking me. Him over there”—he nodded to the man kneeling to zip tie Roman’s legs to the chair, purposely striding over with a certain swagger until we were face to face—“that son of a bitch wanted a taste of your pussy. I told him not ‘til I got mine.”

  “Well shit, you’re going to have to knock me out again for that to happen, motherfuc—”

  My head whooshed back from the force of his blow to the side of my face. I slowly turned my head back around, glaring at him through the slits of my eyes, acting as if my cheek wasn’t on fire. “You hit like a bitch,” I retaliated, spitting blood in his face.

  He roughly pinched my cheeks, causing my lips to pucker, and crashed his mouth into mine with so much constraint, I thought he was going rip my face off. He finally released me with a loud smack from his lips, pulling back to look me in the eyes as he licked my blood away. “You taste fucking good.”

  It took every ounce of willpower I had not to pounce on him right then and there. The only reason I didn’t was for the man who was now fully tied to a chair, with his mouth duct-taped shut. Pleading to me with his eyes not to give in, no matter what. Even if it came down to him losing his life.

  “What the fuck do you want?” I gritted through a clenched jaw, wiping the remaining blood off with the back of my hand.

  “What do I want? Hmmm…” he hummed, pointing the barrel of the gun to his mouth in a mocking gesture. “I want a lot of things.” He nodded to his men who were near Roman, silently ordering them to proceed. They wasted no time taking turns punching him in the face. Ready to use any means of torture necessary to fuck with me.

  I could practically feel each strike they delivered like I was the one they were brutally beating. More memories of the night my family was murdered came flooding back, attacking my mind and assaulting my senses. Engulfing my body to the point that all I could hear were the drone of their screams and pleas in my ears. I couldn’t tell if it was Roman’s or the fighters’ blood that coated the gruesome floor beneath him. Silently praying it was the latter. The expression on his face mirroring my father’s when he was hanging on by just a thread.

  I swallowed hard when they stopped, and my blank stare found their sadistic expressions. Resembling Emilio’s men, showcasing their handy work. Wearing their bloody knuckles proudly.

  No remorse.

  No guilt.

  Exactly. Like. Them.

  I shifted my attention to Roman who was staring right at me through his swollen, blood-soaked eyes, shutting them for a split-second sensing it hurt him to look at me. Fully aware of what memories were playing out in my mind. I locked eyes with the motherfucker in front of me through the holes in his mask, and even though I was fucking dying inside, I put on a hell of a front. Portraying the fearless drug lord, when all I felt like was the scared little girl who was losing her life all over again.

  “That all you got?” I mocked, not backing down. “How about you just tell me what you want? Instead of wasting my fucking time with this pitiful display of a power play!” I shouted in a hard tone, giving him exactly what he wanted.

  He lunged for me, taking a hold of my hair and yanking my head back until he was looming over me. Locking me in place in front of him, he rammed his gun into the side of my temple. “Who the fuck do you think you’re ordering around, little girl? Who the fuck do you think you’re fucking with, you stupid fucking cunt!”

  I heard Roman’s chair flailing around, knowing he was going crazy trying to get loose.

  “I’ll show you who you’re fucking with!” he snarled into my ear, and for the second time in my life, I thought this was the end for me.

  This was the moment I was going to die.

  The only thing that crossed my mind was serene, calm, honey-colored eyes.

  “This is for my brother, Vinny. Did you really think that there would be no retaliation, bitch? I’ve watched you for weeks now and you act like you’re untouchable.”

  As soon as he said his name, Roman and I locked eyes from across the distance between us. It all made sense now. His gaze telling me everything that couldn’t be spoken. If I wanted us to make it out of here alive, I was going to have to start playing this motherfucker’s game.

  He smashed my body into the concrete wall as hard as he could, slamming my head against brick, causing me to instantly see fucking stars. Knocking the wind right out of my lungs from the impact and his might alone. With a death grip on the back of my neck, he pinned the side of my face and body to the wall, not allowing me to properly breathe and catch my bearings. My chest heaved and my eyes watered, gasping for air that wasn’t available for the taking. All the blood draining from my face, down to my lips that trembled with the instinctual desire to fall apart.

  “How about now? That better? Or do you still need to see more of what I got?” he seethed into my ear from behind with his hard cock pressed against my ass. The fabric from his mask cutting into my cheek.

  Trying to belittle me.

  Mock me.

  Hurt me.

  Needing to feel the control he had over me.

  He slowly licked up the side of my face. “Fucking beg me to let you breathe.”

  I knew what he really wanted, so I willingly gave it to him, purposely swaying my ass along his cock. Baiting him to keep going.

  “You dirty little whore,” he deviously chuckled, loosening his hold a little on my neck. Ripping the slit of my gown higher until there was no fabric covering my panties.

  I sucked in air, blowing it out just as quickly again and again. Savoring the feeling of the cold cement against my flushed ski
n. I swallowed hard, my throat so fucking dry it burned.

  “What do you say?” He started to tighten his grip once more.

  “Thank you,” I breathed out and he stopped.

  My vision becoming clear as his hand trailed up my inner thigh.

  My fingernails digging into the concrete to the point of pain.

  My heart skipping a beat or two, knowing what he was about to do.

  My mind racing to find a way to make him stop, when something finally clicked in my head.

  “Let me tell you a little bit about your brother… did you know that he was stealing money from you?”

  Before the last word came out of my mouth, he spun me back around. His death grip now on my windpipe with his gun firmly pressed in between my eyes. “You fucking liar—”

  “The name Carlo Agnello ring a fucking bell?”

  He jerked back, and I didn’t waver.

  “Your little brother was embezzling money from your familia to gain territory for Carlo, your family’s enemy. It’s the only reason he was at the meeting. He wanted alliances to back him up for when you found out. Using them to take you the fuck out and not have it fall back on him. Your brother was a fucking disrespectful prick, and you should be thanking me for murdering him because it saved your fucking life!”

  An eerie silence filled the room as I played my part, acting as if I didn’t notice his questioning regard. Giving him exactly what he craved.

  Respect.

  Gaining the upper hand, but still letting him think he was in control. Roman and I spent weeks trying to find shit on Vinny to cover my ass. There was no loyalty in our world especially when it came to power and money. We couldn’t find a damn thing other than his family’s enemy, and now I was lying through my fucking teeth, praying it would save our asses.

  “If I find out you’re lying,” he stated, never breaking his deep stare, gradually moving his gun from in between my eyes, gliding it down to my mouth. Grazing the cool metal against my lips. “I will have my men run a gang bang on every hole in your body. Starting with this one.” He shoved the barrel in, and I gagged. “I will cut limb by limb by fucking limb off Roman’s body while he watches you get fucked.” With his finger securely over the trigger, he thrust the gun in and out of my mouth a few times, and I made a mental note to do the same to him before I blew his fucking brains out.