Page 114 of Lord of the Dark

"So. You’re Alessandro Russo’s woman."

I stayed silent.

He repeated it, sharper. "Answer."

Slowly, I lifted my head. And my blood turned to ice.

He looked so much like Alessandro it hurt. The same dark eyes. The same sharp jawline. But there was something in his face—something harder, rawer, corrupted. Like a darkened reflection of what Alessandro was.

I remembered the one fleeting sentence Alessandro had once let slip. That there was someone. He had no siblings—only a half-brother. One he’d never seen. One he’d rather forget.

"Well? Are you his?" the man asked again.

I said nothing. Held my silence like armor.

His smile widened. Cold cynicism dripped from it. Then came the blow.

His heavy hand struck me full-force across the face. My nose shattered on impact. Blood gushed from it, over my lips, into my mouth. I spat it out. Right at his feet.

He remained calm, pulling out a phone. Then a slip of paper with a number scrawled on it. I recognized those digits. Alessandro’s number.

Three rings. Then the line picked up.

Silence. No words came through. But I knew he was there. I always felt when he was near. My heart twisted, as if resisting the reality that I was so close to him—yet couldn’t reach him. But the fact that he’d answered at all was proof enough. He was alive. He would come for me.

"Ciao, fratello," the man said, twisting the word brother into an insult. He spoke to him in rapid Italian—probably assuming I didn’t understand.

"Let me describe what’s sitting just a meter away from me," he murmured, almost savoring the words. "A pretty little thing. Dark hair, a bit tousled, but it suits her. A white T-shirt that reaches her knees—nothing else underneath. Legs bare. Skin already marked with bruises, trembling slightly. But beautiful. Very beautiful, actually."

He paused, as if giving me time to savor the humiliation—or to sear the images into Alessandro’s mind.

"She has gorgeous lips, you know that?" A low chuckle. "Full. Soft—or they were. Now they’re smeared with blood. I just broke her nose because she wouldn’t speak when told. But don’t worry… she’ll learn when to open her mouth. And for what. I’ll make sure of that."

He stared at me as he said it. Direct. With a gaze that flayed me from the inside out.

"Oh, and by the way—we already found the tracker," he taunted into the phone, eyes lingering on me with relish. "In the neck, Russo? Really? I expected more from you. Almost disappointed. Come on… you used to be better."

I heard every word. And even as blood dripped from my nose and my legs trembled beneath the chair, for the tiniest moment—I smiled.

Because I knew what he didn’t.

Of course Alessandro had anticipated this. Of course he’d known where they’d look.

And of course he’d given them exactly what they were meant to find.

But on the other end of the line, there was no reaction. Not a sound. Not even static, no accidental noise to betray that someone was listening. He refused to be provoked. Not by thewords, not by the violence, not by the humiliation. No careless sound, no reaction that might reveal weakness. No mistake.

And yet, it was his silence that hurt me the most. Because I needed him. Right in this moment. I needed his voice, the sound of him, something to prove I hadn’t fallen, wasn’t lost.

And that was exactly what the bastard in front of me was playing with. He was counting on Alessandro reacting—on him making a mistake, giving himself away, losing control. Or worse—on me breaking, crumbling under the weight of feeling abandoned by him.

But I knew better.

I knew Alessandro by now. Knew every nuance of his silence. And even though it tore me apart inside, even though I drowned in that quiet like an endless tunnel with no light—I trusted him. Trusted that he knew exactly what he was doing. That every second of silence, every hesitation, every lack of reaction was calculated.

"Say hello," the stranger suddenly demanded.

With that simple command, he confirmed my suspicion: he wanted our reactions. Wanted to see me break, wanted to see Alessandro lose control. Wanted to pit us against each other, expose every weakness.

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