“Enough,” he begged, crocodile tears pouring down his ugly face. “I told you everything.”
He cried like a baby. The image of Áine, the day I saved her, flashed in my mind. She didn’t cry like a baby when she saw me. Though her shattered blue gaze hurt like a sonofabitch.
The pictures in the prick’s nightstand told a story of many girls, just like Áine. Beaten. Bruised faces. Shattered eyes. The prick got off on their pain.
The anger inside me boiled but I wanted to make him suffer. Days, months, years of his suffering wouldn’t make up for everything he’d done. So I settled for pulling his nail clean off, relishing in his screams. His scream did nothing to settle my anger. So I pulled another. And another. There was something satisfying in seeing his fingers bleeding, the raw flesh where his nails used to be.
Maybe I could peel his skin off too, I mused. That would make him suffer a bit more. Unless he passed out. Fuck, I should have brought smelling salts.
“I wonder if I should do the toes too,” I muttered, as if thinking out loud. Not that I would ever get that close to him. Filthy sicko.
The fucker actual pissed himself. The sound of running piss all over the floor and the stench of urine filling the air. The state's attorney was still naked, much to Luca’s dismay.
“Fuck,” Alessio grunted, his voice cold and hard. “I really don’t want to be smelling like piss. Kill him already.”
“I really don’t want to be seeing his sorry ass dick,” Luca complained. “My eyes are hurting at this sight.”
I shrugged. “We could cut it off.”
Chad started screaming, his voice so high-pitched, it competed with bad opera singers.
“You shit yourself,” Alessio warned, “And I’m slicing your throat.”
“No, no,” he begged. “I told you everything.”
“Turkey is a big, fucking country,” I said. “I’m afraid that I need more specifics. Not to worry, I have time.” He didn’t need to know otherwise. “We can get acquainted reallywell.”
I grinned, probably looking like a fucking maniac. Not that I cared. I pressed the blade of my knife against his eyelid, then slowly pressed into it. The skin broke and blood trickled out. My knife found itself pressing against his eyeball and his piercing scream threatened to deafen me.
Fuck, I didn’t need that side effect right now. Pushing harder against it, his mouth finally spit out what I wanted to know.
“Kars,” he wailed. “Kars in Turkey. Tomorrow.”
Half a breath and my blade sliced his throat in one swift move. I watched him gurgle and choke on his blood, his eyes frantic as he realized death was coming for him.
It was better than he deserved.
So the auction was tomorrow. In Turkey. Kars! Too damn close to the place where we rescued Áine from all those years ago. My only comfort during the past few hours was knowing she was here, protected. I never thought to check on her using the tracking on my phone.
Margaret’s eyes darted to Luca, then to Alessio, before returning to me. I clenched my fists, anger boiling inside me. If something happened to Áine, I’d lose my shit. Rage flickered through my skin, mixing with the fear of losing something I had only found. I waited for her my whole life.
My blood ran hot from the torture we just dished out and adrenaline pumped through my veins.
“Cassio, calm down.” It was Luca’s voice. I ignored him. The pressure in my chest, images of Áine’s expression full of fear from eleven years ago played on repeat in my mind.
“Margaret, where is my wife?” I gritted, fury amplifying with each breath.
It didn’t escape me that Luca stepped in front of me, using his body to shield her.
“I knew this was going to end badly,” Margaret muttered.
“Tell us what you know,” Luca demanded, before I could bellow at her for allowing any stupidity that could harm my wife. I knew well that Áine was stubborn and independent. It wasn’t Margaret’s fault, but whoever maintained reason when worried for their wife’s life.
“She said you have a tracker on her wedding band,” she breathed out, worry etched on her face. “She’s gone to Turkey, with her team. To kill Marco.”
Fuck. Me.
ChapterForty