Page 48 of Bratva Bride

ChapterThirteen

Arturo De Luca

True to his word, Aleksandr was waiting in the kitchen for me once I left the dining room. Leaving Illayana like that, all hot and heavy, was for me one of the hardest things I’ve done in my fucking life. I wanted nothing more than to completely annihilate her, fuck her until the only thing she could think about was me. But unfortunately, there was another matter that required my attention.

Christian and Luca were nowhere to be seen. I could only assume they were off gallivanting with Lukyan.

Alessandro always did like to criticise me about those two. Granted, they’re young - at twenty-two, they were practically babies in the Mafia world - and at times they could both be extremely childish. But none of that deterred me from their greatest quality. Loyalty.

“She alright?” Aleksandr asked as I made my way over to him.

“She’s fine.”

Aleksandr nodded and turned, leading me through the house in silence. It’s something I’ve come to notice about the giant. He didn’t speak unless he had to and when he did, it was always straight to the point. No screwing around. No unnecessary words. It made me wonder if he’d ever had any fun in his life.

Once we got outside, we took a short walk until we came across a large warehouse. It looked like any other normal warehouse, aside from the fact it was located on residential property instead of an industrial area. However, appearances can often be deceiving. It may have looked like your everyday garden variety warehouse, but inside it was a completely different story.

The entire floor was covered in every single piece of gym equipment known to man. Leg press, arm curls, leg extensions, chest press, squat rack. You name it, and they fucking had it. They even had their own boxing ring! And it looked state of the art too. I was impressed, to say the least. The warehouse seemed to stretch on for miles, with doors blocking off access to other areas. It made me curious about what else was in this place.

Without losing stride, Aleksandr manoeuvred his way around the endless amount of machines with ease, until we reached a large steel door. After placing his finger on the scanner, the door started to slowly open, creaking as it went.

“Before we continue, I feel like I should warn you,” Aleksandr’s deep voice was laced with his thick Russian accent.

“Yes?”

His bright blue eyes connected with my mix-matched ones as he spoke. “My father can be quite. . . particular when it comes to his interrogations.”

I frowned but remained silent, allowing him to continue.

“No matter what, do not speak unless he calls on you.”

At that, I scowled, my lips turning up in distaste. Did he seriously just tell me, Arturo De Luca, Don of The Cosa Nostra (soon to be anyway) not to speak unless I was spoken too?! Anger flowed through my veins at his lack of respect. I felt a flare of disappointment rise up within me too. I was actually starting to like the big behemoth.

Aleksandr sensed my anger and immediately raised his palms in front of him in a placating gesture. “I meant no disrespect. As I said, my father is particular about his interrogations. He doesn’t like it whenanyonespeaks while he’s questioning a prisoner. Not even me.”

My body relaxed slightly and the anger started to slowly dissipate. If that was truly the case, then in a way I could understand. It was clear Dimitri had some sort of routine he liked to do when interrogating someone, and obviously he didn’t like to be interrupted.

“I understand.”

Aleksandr eyed me suspiciously like he didn’t believe me, before nodding slightly and beginning his descent down the steps into the darkness.

A burst of bright, white light filled the room as Aleksandr flicked a switch on the wall. He led me down a long corridor. We walked past several doors, both on the left side and right, and my curiosity peaked. What exactly was down here? He turned a corner at the end of the hall, and I followed close behind, the sound of someone groaning in pain getting louder and louder the further we went.

We eventually came to a stop in front of a door that was being guarded by one of Dimitri’s men. The heavily tattooed, muscular man nodded at Aleksandr and opened the door. We stepped inside.

It was a small space, no bigger than your average bedroom. It was mostly bare, apart from a few chairs spread throughout the room and a table littered with torture implements in the far corner. The walls and floor were stained red with blood, some of it old, like it had been there for years, and others looked fresh. Really fresh. There was a single drain located in the middle of the room, where I’m assuming the blood flowed too.

Slouching with his head hanging forward was a man bound to a chair bolted to the floor in the centre of the room. Rage nearly consumed me as the video from the attack came to the forefront of my mind. This fucker was there. He was responsible. Partly, anyway. And I couldn’t wait to make the bastard pay.

The man started to slowly raise his head, groaning as his eyes moved around the room, dazed and confused. A scream tore through his throat as he fully regained consciousness, and his mind was finally able to process the amount of pain flowing through his body. Brown orbs locked onto me before moving to Aleksandr. Confusion followed by anger flowed across his square face as he swivelled his head from side to side, trying to figure out where he was. He had short brown hair that looked like it hadn’t been washed in years. His bruised skin was covered in ink, some clearly gang related.

Even though his hands were bound behind his back, I could see he was struggling, trying to get himself free. Panic, pain and fear overtook his face as he spoke for the first time in Spanish.

“¿Por què no puedo sentir mis piernas?” Why can’t I feel my legs?

“Eso es porque mi encantadora hija cortó tu médula espinal.”That’s because my lovely daughter severed your spinal cord.

Dimitri entered the room, his big, imposing body coming to a stop beside me as he replied to the man in perfect Spanish. His blue eyes locked onto his target and a vile smirk spread across his lips.

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