Page 64 of Tempting My Mafia Monster

Yet somehow… her voice still sliced through it all.

I love you.

If I had the ability, I think I’d laugh in disbelief. Of all the things I thought she’d say to me as she plunged a knife into my flesh, I’d never have bet on that. I expected her hate, her pleading or guilt, but never love. Her tear-stained face was all I could see behind closed eyes. The feel of her trembling hands on the knife when she couldn’t do it herself. Even to save her brother, she hesitated to kill me.

“What the fuck happened to him?” McKenna’s rage-filled voice cut through my thoughts, and I forced my eyes open. “Don’t just stand there, you eejits. Get a fresh bandage. We need to wrap him up.” A soldier ran down the corridor. McKenna placed his hands on my shoulders, his blue eyes swirling like a whirlpool as he stared into mine. His head doubled, then came back as one. “What the fuck happened in the last five minutes? Who did this?”

I felt my lips stretch. Was I smiling? I hoped so. I hoped I bled out before I made it into that cage and embarrassed the living fuck out of him.

My bound arms were hoisted above my head as they tied a bandage around my waist. I glared at Sean, refusing to speak. He narrowed his eyes at me and shook his head.

“A deal’s a deal, Monster,” he said, nodding towards Nolan, who was approaching along the corridor. “Nolan knows your sister’s whereabouts and will take you to her after the fight. Kill Santino, and you’ll be a free man. You can reunite with her as promised.”

I held his gaze, nostrils flared.

“But if you fuck this up for me,” he started, pointing towards the doors. “I’ll see to it that your sister isn’t just killed. I’ll pluck her from her perfect life and dump her in the traffickin’ rings. I’ll make sure she suffers for years at the hands of the worst men imaginable until she comes crawlin’ back to me on her knees, beggin’ for her death. You listenin’ to me, Monster?”

The fury surged through me so violently that I lunged at him. He was expecting it, of course, and stepped out of the way as a team of soldiers slammed into me from every direction, holding me back.

Sean chuckled. “There he is. Save it for the cage, aye? For the motherfuckin’ bastard who cut your brother’s eyelids off so he couldn’t shed a single tear in his last moments. Do me proud, son.”

In seconds, I’d snapped the chain of my handcuffs and shoved the men off me, knocking them back on their arses. I grabbed Sean by the throat, slamming him against the wall and lifting him off his feet. The soldiers tore at my body, trying to get me off him, but I wouldn’t budge. I’d never felt so fucking strong. The need to kill him right then and there was so powerful, only the small voice in my head repeating the threat to my sister held it back.

“I. Am. Not. Your. Son,” I hissed, watching his face turn redder by the second. “And you better hope I die today, you cunt. Or you will be next.”

I let him drop to the floor and stormed through the doors; the sound echoing through the warehouse and making all heads turn towards me. All fucking dickheads in designer suits, with their Rolex watches and cigars. Irish, Italian, Russian. It didn’t matter. They were all the same. Assholes who were only out for themselves.

They were here for a show? Well, I was about to give them the best one they’d ever seen.

The steel-wired door slammed shut behind me with a metallic crack as I stepped into the cage. Inside stood a shirtless man, his dark hair and deep-brown eyes narrowed with pure hatred. He was taller than me and had the physique of a professional fighter, but he was far too good-looking to be one. Tattoos covered his chest and arms, but they had nothing on mine. Privilege and wealth oozed off him like a potent aftershave.

This was the fucker who tortured my brother?

Anything soft that may have lived inside me died at the sight of him.

My pulse thrummed in my ears forming my own triggering beats of rhythm. My muscles felt too tight for my skin as I paced back and forth, glaring at him while he jumped on the spot a few times, warming himself up. This fucking prick.

Santino clocked the blood-soaked bandage around my waist and smirked.

That was all I needed. His fucking arrogance. I launched myself at him, and he dodged my attack. He was fast. Surprisingly fast for a man of his size. His fist cracked into my jaw, hard enough to snap my head sideways, but the drugs swarming my system swallowed the impact. I spat blood onto the concrete with a slow, sinister grin.

His fist came flying my way again, but I caught it and drove my forehead into his face with a sickening crack. Blood exploded from his nose instantly, and he stumbled back, but I was already on him.

With no restraint or technique, I unleashed feral anger. My fists slammed into his ribs multiple times, then his face a few more. I felt bones break under the force. Santino grunted and drove his knee into my side, directly into my stab wound, and kicked me off him. It was a sharp reminder of who had given it to me. For a second, my body locked at the memory of those words.

I love you.

Santino used the opportunity to smash an elbow across my temple, hard enough to have me crashing into the wired fencing of the cage.

That’s when I felt the shift. My vision tunnelled, only seeing him and the need for his last breath. He charged at me, and I let him. At the last second, I twisted sideways and caught him by the throat with one hand. The momentum carried both of us into the cage hard enough to shake it. His back slammed into the wire. I forced my forearm into his neck and hit him. Again. And again. Until his pretty face was a mess of blood and broken skin.

I could hear women’s screams from above, but that only made my bloodthirst worse. Flashbacks to my mother’s scream. My sisters. Rage was all I felt.

Santino shoved me off long enough to take another swing at my side, but I caught his wrist this time. I bent it back until I heard a snap. He howled in pain and dropped to one knee. Something primal and vicious tore through me at the sight of his suffering. This was nothing compared to what he had done to my little brother. Hatred surged so violently it made me dizzy. I grabbed him by the hair and smashed his face into the metal pole in the fence. By the fourth hit, blood covered the metal and half his face was swollen.

I let go, breathing hard, and watched him slump to the floor, crawling away from me like wounded prey. I kicked him in the side twice; his body jerked into the air with each brutal blow. This was it. I could easily finish him now. The sobbing and howling grew louder. Distracting. I glanced up at the woman standing with a group of Italian men, all looking alike. Tanned skin, dark hair and intimidating auras. The blonde woman was on her knees, her hands clawing at the metal gate of the gantry as she stared down at the dying man at my feet. I locked eyes with the man next to her. He was the older version of Santino. Must have been Giovanni Buccini. He was heaving erratically, struggling to stand and watch his brother get battered to a corpse, knowing he couldn’t intervene. Good. Hurts, doesn’t it?

I stepped over Santino’s body, straddling his back, and grabbed him by the hair, ready to smash his face into the concrete until I saw brains.