by Lylah James
“Lena!” Viktor rushed to her, pulling her to the sofa before she could fall over. “Call Sam,” he ordered as Lena continued to gasp for air, her face twisted in agony.
“My sweet child,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
This was all too much. All their emotions washed over me; disappointment, pain, sorrow so deep that my heart ached with it. I ran a trembling hand over my face, trying to stay calm. Trying to be strong for everyone.
For Ayla. She needed me strong.
Artur pulled Maddie into his arms. She buried her face into his chest as she sobbed. Swallowing against the lump of emotions around my throat, I shook my head and walked forward.
Maddie stopped in front of me. “Ayla might be an Abandonato, but she is innocent.”
Her voice was a mere whisper, but it reached me. And the words were a straight blow to my heart.
“I know,” I murmured, looking straight as I walked past her.
“Alessio, you have—” She broke off, her voice cracking. “I can’t even imagine what she is going through right now.”
My eyes closed, my fingers tightening into fists at the thought of Ayla being in pain.
“I will find her,” I said, my voice gruff from the effort of keeping my emotions in check.
I will find her. It was a vow spoken out loud.
Maddie stepped in front of me, a single tear trailing down her cheek. “You promise?”
I broke my promise before, but not this time. So I nodded. Maddie seemed satisfied enough with my answer, and her eyes held no doubt. They only shone with absolute trust.
She stepped out of my way, and I continued upstairs. Walking down the hall toward my office, I only heard Ayla’s beautiful laughter and sweet voice. She was everywhere yet nowhere at all.
A sudden surge of anger coursed through my body. Alberto had to die.
But first I had to find him. And the fucker was smart. A coward, but smart. The moment Ayla was in his trap, he went off the grid. Nowhere to be found.
It had only been hours since Ayla was taken, but it felt like years.
“Fuck,” I swore, opening the door to my office, only to stop dead in my tracks.
Lyov was staring out the window, while Isaak’s body sagged against the couch, his head in his hands as if all his energy had left his body.
I walked inside, analyzing both men closely. They hated the Abandonatos with a passion, but I wasn’t going to let them stand in my way to find Ayla. Consequences be damned.
From the corner of my eyes, I saw my men following me inside. My expression stayed cold and emotionless as I faced my father and Isaak.
“I should have known,” Isaak said, causing a cloud of confusion to settle around us. Lyov’s back went rigid at Isaak’s voice, his eyes closing tightly.
“She looked so much like Leila, but I didn’t want to believe it. I refused to believe it,” Isaak continued, his voice breaking over the last words.
Alfredo’s wife?
“What?” I snapped, moving forward.
Isaak looked up, and I was shocked to see his eyes red. No, he wasn’t crying. But the agony on his face spoke more than the tears would have.
“You knew Leila?” I asked when our eyes met. He flinched and stared at Lyov, who still hadn’t turn around to acknowledge us.
“Yes. I knew Leila. I more than just knew her,” he murmured.
Cocking my head to the side, I stared and waited. I could have guessed the answer, but I needed to hear it from him. The truth.
My thoughts ran wild as I waited for Isaak to explain.
“To understand, you will have to know the beginning.”
My eyes widened when I heard Lyov’s guttural voice. “Tell him,” he ordered without turning around.
Isaak stood up and paced the room. “After your mother’s death, our only goal was to take down the Abandonatos. I was sent to find Alfredo’s weakness.”
He paused, taking a deep breath, as if it pained him to continue. “We thought Leila was his weakness, so for months I kept an eye on her. From far away. I watched her every move and waited. After weeks of watching, I started to see signs of abuse. Sometimes she would have a bleeding lip. Her cheeks would be red or a shade of purple. Once she was walking with a limp.”
Why did that sound so familiar?
Ayla. Her name was a whisper in my head, and I clenched my jaw, my teeth grinding together.
“Every day, at the same exact time, Leila would go to a coffee shop. I watched her cross the street. I watched until I couldn’t stay away anymore. She was so sad. So broken,” Isaak continued. He had long ago stopped pacing. His eyes were now glued to the wall. He was lost in his memories.
“But she was never alone. She always had a baby in her arms. The only time I saw her smile was when she played with the small little bundle. I approached them, desperate to know the broken woman in front of me.”
I knew where this was going, but I didn’t stop Isaak. So he kept talking. And in doing so, his words stabbed at my already fragile heart.
“The baby’s name was Ayla. Ayla Abandonato. She was the sweetest little baby. Only three months old when I met her.” Isaak’s voice slightly broke over Ayla’s name.
My eyes snapped shut as I sank down on the couch.
“Leila and I got to know each other, but she didn’t know who I was. Not my real name. We…we started an affair. It was forbidden, and we both knew it. But that didn’t stop us. It lasted for several months. I watched Ayla grow. She took her first step in front of me, and it was toward me.”
I heard Viktor swear, and Isaak paused. The room was suddenly filled with silence, and the silence was suffocating.
“What happened?” I asked, my voice harsh against the silent room.
Isaak took a deep breath before continuing. “Leila was mad when she found out the truth about me, but she understood why I did it. That night, we planned her escape. It was the only way to protect her and Ayla. But I was a little too late.”
“Leila died in a fire,” I said.
“No,” Isaak suddenly growled. “She didn’t.”
My head snapped up toward him as he turned to face me. “I heard her die. I heard her screams as Alfredo killed her. Shot her. The bastard fucking called me and made me listen. Three gunshots and then there was silence.”
Shaking his head, he ran a hand over his face, his body shaking. With anger. And deep sorrow.
“Leila had died, and I couldn’t do anything. But I knew I had to get to Ayla. I promised Leila that Ayla wouldn’t live the life that she did. Ayla would be free and happy. I vowed to protect her and take her out of that hell.” Isaak broke off with a harsh, emotionless laugh.
He shook his head, still laughing. “I was too late. Again. Ayla—”
“—died in a fire,” I finished off.
Everyone knew that story. Half of Alfredo’s estate caught on fire. So many lives were taken, including his wife and daughter. That was the story, but it clearly didn’t happen that way.
“Ayla was only a year old. I didn’t believe it at first. But I saw her casket. It was so small. She was so small. She looked so fragile as she was lowered into the ground next to her mother,” Isaak’s voice was a mere whisper now.
I had known Isaak for many years, but I had never ever seen him so broken. I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to release the tension there.
It all made sense now. Why we never got anything on Ayla…no matter how intensive our research was. Why I never even thought for a moment that Ayla could have been an Abandonato.
She was a ghost. Alfredo had made sure of it.
“That fucking bastard,” Isaak hissed, his eyes suddenly sparking fire. “He knew. He fucking knew I was coming for Ayla. She might not have my blood, but I loved her as my own.”
“He made us believe that Ayla died. It was the only way to keep Isaak away. All these years we thought she was dead.” Lyov finally spoke again when it became clear that Isaak couldn’t say anything else.
Ther
e was only silence for a few seconds, until Isaak exploded. He reached forward and grabbed me, almost frantic in his actions.
“You have to find her. Please, Alessio. She won’t survive there. Not again. We have to save her. We have to find her. She…she…you…” Isaak begged me, his breathing panicked.
My chest went tight, so tight that it was almost impossible to breathe. And the anger, it clawed at my body, laughing, taunting, shaking me, begging for release.
My fists shook as Isaak stepped away when I didn’t answer him.
It was vicious cycle. Pain, suffering, and anger. It clouded us until we were blinded with it. But through it all, there was only one light.
Ayla.
Standing up, I walked to the large panel window. Lyov stood beside me, where he had been throughout the whole confrontation.
And then Viktor was beside me. Isaak on Lyov’s side. Nikolay next to Viktor. Phoenix beside Nikolay and Artur right next to Phoenix.
A brotherhood.
Taking in a deep breath, I let it out slowly. When I spoke, my words rang with finality.
“I’m going to bring Ayla home.”
Alberto didn’t know what was coming for him. He may have taken my Angel away, but I was coming for her.
I may have been a monster. A killer. Heartless. Ruthless. But what was worse for Alberto was that I was Ayla’s monster.
I wouldn’t stop until I had delivered all their corpses at Ayla’s feet. My blood roared with the need to seek vengeance against the men who caused Ayla pain.
I would burn everything in my path to find her. It was the beginning of destruction. A bloodbath.
And I wasn’t going to stop looking. Not until I found my Angel.
Chapter 33
My knuckles cracked when my fist made contact with his face. The sound was deafening in the silent room. I didn’t feel anything, and the poor bastard at the receiving end of my furious fist was whimpering in pain.
When I pulled away and sat down on the chair, he looked at me through swollen eyes. His cracked lips were bleeding profusely, and his cheeks were red and oozing with blood from several cuts. They weren’t deep, but they were enough to cause him blinding pain.
His mouth opened, but the sounds that came through his lips was almost too soft to hear. “If you’re going to kill me, just do it. I don’t know where he is.”
It had been two hours since he was tied to the chair. One of Alberto’s men. But he knew nothing of Alberto’s whereabouts.
It had been one week since Ayla was taken away. It didn’t matter that I had already killed eight of Alberto’s men. Tortured them until they begged for death. No one knew where he was.
Reaching forward, I grabbed the index finger of his right hand. I looked into his eyes as I bent the finger backward. His body shook as he tried to escape my cruel ministration. But he had nowhere to go.
He was at my mercy.
I heard a pop sound; his finger cracked, his bone crushing. I let the broken finger go as he wailed. His screams still resonated around the room when I grabbed two more fingers, bending them into an impossible angle until I heard another crack. Or several cracks, I should say.
This time, the bones broke through the skin. They stuck out, taunting him.
“Where is he?” I said through gritted teeth.
“I don’t…don’t…kn…ow…” he sobbed, looking at his mutilated fingers.
Viktor wrapped his hand around the man’s hair and pulled his head backward, his neck pushing painfully against the back of the chair. A wet cloth slapped against his face before he could protest.
Viktor held the cloth, heavy and wet with freezing water, over the fucker’s face. He spluttered and fought against the invasion as Viktor pressed harder, stopping his circulation.
Then the cloth was gone. He panted for air but could barely breathe through his swollen nose.
“I’m going to ask one last time. Where is Alberto?” I snapped, pushing the chair away as I stood up.
He shook his head several times. “He…didn’t tell…me…pl…please…beli…eve me.”
My fist hit his stomach as Viktor placed the cloth over his face again. It was wetter this time, and I knew the water was filling his mouth and nose, suffocating him.
When I saw his body slowly giving up on life, I nodded at Viktor to take the wet cloth away. I loomed over the man’s body, glaring down at him with all the hatred I felt.
My fingers wrapped around his hand, and I pressed hard, twisting until his wrist snapped under my hold. His eyes widened as a scream tore out from his throat.
“Please…kill…me…” he begged, struggling but too weak to fight.
He knew his death was coming. And he begged for it. What a fucking coward.
My eyes narrowed on him. It always came to this, Alberto’s men begging me for death without giving me the answer I wanted…needed.
Alberto was smart. He went into hiding without telling anyone. I went after his right-hand men, and even they didn’t know.
But there must have been someone helping him stay hidden this long. Whoever it was, I wasn’t going to stop until I found him.
Pulling my gun out, I aimed at his knee. A shot was fired, a bullet piercing his knee cap. He screamed in agony, and I chuckled. I only chuckled on the outside—inside, my monster was roaring with laughter. It demanded more blood to be shed.
More blood from my Angel’s tormentors.
Another shot. Another bullet. Right in his other knee. His scream pierced through my ears, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my spiral knife. The man’s eyes widened, and he shook his head, his whimpers getting louder. He thought I was going to end his life easily.
How naïve of him.
Viktor smiled and pulled out his knife, too. One slice across his neck. Quick and swift. So deep that his blood poured around us and his bones were showing.
The man made a gurgling sound, blood oozing from the cut at an accelerating rate.
But it wasn’t over. Not yet.
Holding my knife tight in my hand, I pulled back and then plunged it into his chest, right in his heart. His mouth fell open in a silent scream, his blood squirting around us. The floor was covered with it. The air smelled of death and the copper smell of blood.
I smirked as he convulsed and then collapsed against the chair, eyes wide open. They were full of fear until he was lifeless. Just another dead body.
Another step toward finding my Angel.
“Now what?” Viktor asked, his lips curled up in a sadistic smile. He rubbed his gloved hands together in anticipation.
“The next man on the list,” I answered, my voice chilling. Anyone else would have pissed their pants at that tone, but not my men. After all, we craved the same thing.
The blood and death of our enemies.
Turning my back from the dead corpse in front of me, I walked out of the room. But not before I saw Nikolay taking his lighter out.
By the end of the day, the corpse would be nothing but ash.
As I stepped into the sunlight, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Like always, I saw Ayla’s smile and shining green eyes. She radiated beauty.
I felt my lips tilt up at the thought of her.
I’m coming, Angel. Wait for me.
***
1 week later
I walked into the room, and the man trembled at the sight of me. He was on his knees, and Nikolay had his arms twisted around his back. Another captive. Another of Alberto’s most trusted men.
“Let’s see what you have to say,” Phoenix said beside me.
“Please…I don’t know anything,” he begged.
My chest rumbled with laughter. What else could I have done?
I didn’t even do anything yet, and he was already begging. I wondered what he would do when I got started.
“I…have…a wife,” he stuttered, pleading me with his eyes. “And a daughter. Please, they need me.�
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Scoffing, I walked forward and pulled him up by the hair. “You should have thought about that before messing with the Ivanshovs.”
Nikolay stepped away, and I slammed the man against the wall. His head banged with a crack, and he winced.
“Where do you think Alberto would hide?” I snarled, my fingers wrapping around his neck. I pressed against his windpipe, my thumb moving up and down. He struggled to breathe, his face turning a shade of purple.
His fingers grabbed at my hand, pulling, scratching with the attempt to dislodge my grasp, but it was all for nothing.
I heard a gasp behind me and then a cry. Looking over my shoulder, I saw a horrified woman standing at the door; in her arms was a sleeping baby.
Ah. The wife and daughter.
I turned back toward my captive, and his fearful eyes met mine. He tried to glance at his wife, but my body was hiding his view.
His body started to shake from the lack of oxygen. But that wasn’t all. It was also from fear. For his wife and daughter.
I couldn’t help but smirk. Interesting.
“Come in, ladies. I’m sure you would want to stay with your husband as he takes his last breath. We wouldn’t want him to die alone. Keep him company,” I taunted without glancing away from the man’s eyes.
Releasing my hold on his throat, I stepped away. He fell to his knees, and my heart soared with power. Yet another of Alberto’s men on their knees, bowing down to me.
I turned around to see Phoenix escorting the woman and her baby to a chair. She sat down, but her whole body was trembling like a leaf.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
“I am your husband’s executioner,” I replied, my voice deadly. She flinched and held her baby tighter to her chest.
“But…he…” she stuttered, but I cut her off quickly.
“He deserves it.”
Tears streamed down her face as she shook her head. “Please don’t hurt him.”
“Your begging only makes me want to hurt him more.” I laughed, pointing a gloved hand at her husband, who was still gasping for breath.
Viktor chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest as he regarded the woman with keen interest. “Please keep begging. It’ll only be more fun,” he goaded.