Page 55 of Sworn to Revenge
“What you just did? That’s crazy romantic!” Bay skips ahead of me with a mischievous grin, one that tells me she is still a bit tipsy. “Naming a mafia-run casino after your wife… it’s just weird.”
Now I can’t hold back, and my laughter erupts, echoing through the warehouse.
“Pedro!” Luca’s growl snaps from ahead, quickly pulling me back into character as I choke back my laughter. I grab Bay’s hand, and we move toward him.
I follow Luca’s gaze to the right and finally spot the infamous girl. Mariana is tied to an old iron chair, a piece of cloth stuffed in her mouth to keep her silent, her long dirty blonde hair wild and tangled. So this is Stas’s whore—too bad her soul won’t get to see him in hell. But I’ll enjoy knowing that for a very long time.
“I’m guessing Alin updated you?” I quickly ask Luca before stepping in to do what we do best. He nods, and I relax. We’re about to kill two birds with one stone—or maybe four, but who’s counting?
“Flavio’s men should be bringing the other two French bastards they caught here. You take care of them when they arrive.Iam going to cut Angelo’s bloodline for good,” Luca commands through clenched jaw, the mask of humanity completely gone from his face—for the first time, even toward a woman. “Something I should’ve done right after I killed her father.”
“You mean Bay’s going to cut it, right? We need to take her alive,” I remind him carefully before he steps forward.
“Don’t worry. Bay will make them talk too. I’m just going to enjoy a little revenge first,” he says, and the spark of that inhuman killing machine flickers in his eyes—impossible to miss. I glance at Mariano, and a mischievous grin is already spreading across his face.
Yeah. The monsters are out to hunt. I wish that would be helpful underwater too—I could use the extra help.
Luca steps forward, his eyes narrowing on Mariana as if she’s already dead—he’s just deciding how slowly he wants to take her apart. He reaches down, yanking the cloth from her mouth. Mariana gasps, her breaths shallow, but there’s no screaming.Not yetat least. Bay breathes heavily beside me.
“You’re going to wish you’d died with your father,” he murmurs, his voice so low it almost sounds soothing—if not for the malice behind it.
Mariana glares up at him, defiant at first, but I can already see the cracks forming in her composure.
Luca circles her like a predator, his fingers grazing the metal of the chair, creating the faintest sound that somehow feels deafening in the empty warehouse. Then, without warning, he pulls a small, slender, precise knife from his pocket. He presses the tip against the side of her face, just below her ear, applying a gentle pressure until a thin line of blood begins to drip down her neck.
Mariana flinches but says nothing, biting down on her lip to stifle any sound.
“Remind me what she did to make him that angry?” Bay stands on her toes to get close to my ear and whispers.
“Messed with the wrong capo,” I answer, not volunteering any moreinformation, and keep my gaze on the main show. “Stay quiet until we tell you to compel them.”
I can feel her curious eyes on me as Luca moves slowly, dragging the knife down to Mariana’s collarbone. This time, the skin tears wider, her lip trembling, a faint whimper escaping.
“Let’s see how long you can keep that mouth shut,” Luca says softly, mocking.
He lowers the blade to her hand, grabbing her wrist with a vice-like grip. Slowly, methodically, he presses the blade into the soft flesh between her fingers. Mariana jerks in the chair, unable to stop the scream that rips from her throat.
There it is. The screams always come—sooner or later.
Bay squeezes my arm hard. “I know I’ve killed dozens of men, but I’ve never seen an actual torture before, not like that,” she admits, biting her lip hard, and my heart aches in my chest—am I worse than her nightmares?
“I’m sorry you have to watch this,” I whisper back, burying her face in my chest as Luca makes his next move.
He twists the knife slightly, pulling it back just enough to leave the wound open, blood pooling in her palm. “That’s better,” he whispers, stepping back to admire his work, her gasping breaths echoing in the silence.
Mariano chuckles from behind me, his eyes gleaming as he watches. “I thought you said no killing, but this—this is art.”
I say nothing, my eyes fixed on Mariana’s trembling body as I hold Bayin place. This isn’t just torture. It’s a slow, painful death in pieces. Luca’s making sure she feels every second of it.
Then, we hear the door creak open. The French. They’ll be next.
“My turn now,” I lean forward and whisper into Bay’s hair, “can you handle it?”
She raises her head, meeting my gaze. “No matter what you do here, I trust you. And if this is part of what you do—then it’s something I’ll have to cope with too.”
I am fucking crazy about this woman. I want to kiss her so bad right now, but I won’t give Luca a reason to doubt me—so I just caress her hair quickly, sending her a silentthank you.
“Stupid Italians, you think you’re scary? Even brought a girl here,” one of the Frenchmen mocks as he enters, almost brushing against Bay as Flavio’s men lead them in.
