Page 8 of Tempting My Mafia Monster

“Take our guest to the bunker.”

For the first time since he’d entered the room, Oscar’s head snapped up from behind his laptop, a deep frown on his face. He glanced at Sean. “Boss, that’s not a good idea. We need her—“

“Did I ask for opinions?” Sean snapped, that icy edge making Oscar stop abruptly. “She made her choice. Take her to the bunker.”

Donal stormed across the room and grabbed my bicep, hauling me to my feet. My mouth opened to speak, but no words came. He was right. I’d made this choice, and whatever it was, I’d endure it if it meant protecting Arianna and giving my family time to form a plan.

Two more Irish soldiers followed behind Donal and me as he dragged me down the dimly lit corridor towards a steel door. A high-tech system scanned his face, and the door opened to bright sunlight. I blinked, shielding my eyes from the glare until they adjusted, then peered behind me as my feet sank into soft grass and slushy mud. My eyes widened when I realised the place we had just left was a house set inside a massive mound of earth. From the outside, it looked like a large hill, and even the door we’d just exited was disguised as grass. Beyond the hill was an old, abandoned farmhouse, stables and a slaughterhouse, all set within a blanket of countryside.

“You keep lookin’ back like someone’s comin’ to save you,” Donal sneered with amusement as I whipped my head around to see he was leading me towards another, smaller mound. “They’re not. No one will ever find you here.” He jerked his head towards the bunker. “All that’s waitin’ for you on the other side of that door is death.”

My body went rigid. No. Sean wouldn’t kill me. I was his best leverage to get Arianna. There was no way he’d—fuck. Perhaps he somehow knew there was a plan to offer me to the Russians in marriage, and he wanted to get rid of me so that could never happen. My eyes darted around as I stumbled forward, scanning the acres of derelict land. Three soldiers. No weapon. Miles of nothingness. But did I chance it?

“Try to run, Princess,” Donal chuckled. “I’d love to chase you and pin you beneath me again. Only this time, I won’t stop there.” My nostrils flared as he raked his gaze over my body. “And I’d let them watch.” He nodded to the men behind him. “Before I let them each have a turn.”

We reached the mound, and Donal pressed a hand beneath a layer of grass on the hill. A disguised door, similar to the other, opened, and he yanked it up, revealing a steep descent into darkness. This wasn’t like the luxurious, modern home that looked like a hill; it was completely underground. The freezing, damp stones beneath my bare feet made me shiver as the temperature dropped with every step. When we reached the bottom, it opened up to a small room with a sofa and a TV. The only other thing in the room was a vaulted iron door.

One soldier stepped forward and unlocked the door, shoving it open. Then Donal pushed me inside, causing me to trip and fall flat on my face against the hard floor.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he mocked. “You’ve a bit of time before you have company.”

The door slammed shut; the rattle reverberated off the curved bunker walls. Donal’s parting words sent dread slamming into my chest, making it hard to breathe. I sat up slowly, taking in the scene and making sure I was truly alone before making any sudden movements.

There was only one lamp swinging from the ceiling, trying to light a long, tunnel-style room. Despite the iron door and no windows, it didn’t feel entirely like a prison cell.

In one corner, there was a single wooden bedframe with a mattress, a bedside drawer, a half-empty glass of water, and a book on top. In the opposite corner was a worn leather armchair with a sunken seat cushion, as if someone had been sitting in it for years.

In the middle of the room, there was a single table and one chair, with an open box and lots of tiny puzzle pieces sprawled across the surface. A battered dummy used for kickboxing and fighting was perched against the wall, with knife wounds to its body, and a selection of heavy weights was stacked on the floor.

I twisted around to look at the other side of the bunker and found a clothes rail with men’s items hanging from it. Mostly black T-shirts, a few hoodies, cargo pants, and joggers.

Oh shit. Was someone living down here?

There was another room without a door at the far end, which I presumed led to a bathroom, but it was too dark to see. Instead, I shuffled backwards until the stones scraped against my spine, and I wrapped my arms around my knees, drawing them up to my chest.

Closing my eyes, I did everything in my power to shut off my mind. To detach myself from my surroundings and emotions and retreat to the place inside me that felt safe. Where no one else could find me. That was the only way I knew how to survive whatever or… whoever… was coming.

Man or Monster?

Ikept my head down and my eyes closed until the very last second, focusing on each steady breath as the atmosphere’s buzz penetrated my skin. My heart rate slowed. I stretched my fingers. Rolled my neck. The darkness was seeping in, taunting me and beckoning me. I savoured the last moment of silence before the noise-cancelling headphones were ripped from my head, and his hand slapped my shoulder, forcing a growl from me at the unwelcome contact.

The roar from the crowd slammed through my veins in a single, rapid blast, and I could no longer hear my own thoughts. My body vibrated, shaking with the effort to contain the beast within for a few more seconds.

The metal clasp around my neck released. I lifted my head and bared my teeth.

“Kill.”

The one-word command, muttered into my ear, sent me flying forward, charging through the crowd with my eyes locked on the target behind the metal fencing. He was huge, taller and heavier than me, but that wouldn’t matter. Not with the way he was prancing around in the cage, riling up the audience to inflate his ego. They never learned. His rage was a performance. But mine? That’s all I was. Rage and pain. Pain and rage. It was always there, simmering beneath the surface. And once it’s unleashed, no one survives it.

No one survives me.

In one swift move, I climbed the edge of the cage and hurled myself into the ring before he realised the fight had already begun. I grabbed the back of his neck and tossed him across the octagonal floor. The crowd went wild, which only blackened my vision.

It turned vicious fast. There was no circling or sizing each other up. The ring shrank to fists and bones, swings and kicks. My knuckles sank into his sides, stomach, and back, while he caught my ribs, but I didn’t slow. I grinned and sent three consecutive blows to his face, which had him stumbling back into the wired fencing.

He grabbed my shoulders and tried to knee me in the groin. I twisted just enough to make his knee slam into my quad. It should have sent white-hot pain through my body, but I felt nothing.

I drove my elbow into his nose with a wet, hollow thud. Blood spurted from him, and he staggered back, clutching his face. I was on him before he could think, my fist in his hair, yanking his head back as my other hand drove up hard under his chin. Deliberately fatal.