Page 43 of Alexei (Belles & Mobsters 4)

But then I did my homework. Nico’s people pulled the information and found out what this asshole did for entertainment. To little girls and young women. There was nothing that would save him now.

My knuckles tightened, that familiar rage flooding through me like a poison that I’d grown immune to, but it still impacted me.

I went to the stainless steel table, full of pristine torture tools. I eyed the variety of tools, deciding on the best one for this sick motherfucker that liked to stick his dick where it didn’t belong.

The moment I picked up the vegetable peeler that could slice one’s skin as easily as peeling a carrot, the child molester gave a muffled groan under his gag. It made me sick to my stomach to think how many innocent girls whimpered when he tortured them. Raped them.

I turned around slowly, walked over to him and gave him one of my rare smiles. The skin over my lip pulled, the sting a dull pain that I tried to avoid, but at this moment, it was worth it.

“This will hurt just a little.”

ChapterTwelve

AURORA

The second Byron and I returned, Sailor and Willow knew something was up.Later,I mouthed so they said nothing. The thought of any member of the Santos family being in the same city as Gabriel was terrifying.

It was five in the afternoon when Byron offered to take Gabriel on one of the children’s ghost tours. Sailor, Willow, and I only had to share a look before deciding to stay behind. It would give us time to talk without Byron around.

I knew it didn’t escape my brother, because on his way out he warned all three of us to stay out of trouble.

“What happened?” Willow blurted out the moment the two were gone.

Even now, five hours later, my heartbeat sped up remembering running into the ruthless mobsters. Though from all the shit that happened, the fear of Raphael Santos being so close to Gabriel was the scariest.

“We ran into the Nikolaev men, again,” I muttered, trying to ease them into it.

“Ah, damn,” Willow complained. “I wanted to see that hotness one more time. Maybe to fuel my orgasms for the next five years.”

I scoffed. “That is kind of a stretch.”

She shrugged. “I don’t think so. That kind of hotness melts your brain, heart, and coochie.” I rolled my eyes at her exaggeration, but it didn’t stop her from elaborating. “Your brothers are fucking hot. But they are more like clean-cut hot and filthy as fuck in the bedroom.”

“Willow, I’m not even gonna ask,” I muttered. That sounded dangerously close to an admission of testing out one of my brothers in the bedroom. “I don’t want to know.”

“Oh, I didn’t have sex with any of your brothers,” she quickly assured me. “Just trying to make a point. Anyhow, as I was saying. Your brothers are probably filthy in the bedroom. But these tattooed guys…“ She waved her hand, attempting to cool her flushed cheeks. Horny woman. “You just know these tattooed guys are fucking hot in the bedroom. Guaranteed.”

Sailor and I chuckled. “No refund needed,” Sailor giggled. “I mean, really Aurora. Have you ever seen men so hot?” I shook my head. If I said yes, they’d know I lied.

I inhaled deeply, then exhaled. I decided not to say anything about Alexei going all ballistic on the guy that grabbed my ass. Instead, I focused on the most important issue at hand.

“I ran into Raphael Santos,” I muttered and both my girlfriends gasped, their eyes widening with shock.

And just like that, all thoughts of filthy sex and hot, tattooed men evaporated.

Silence stretched as I waited for them to get their shock under control.

“Did he recognize you?” Sailor blurted out.

I shook my head. “He just seems to know we broke into his father’s house.”

“Was his father there?” Willow whispered, though there was nobody else in the apartment.

“No. Remember, he was shot dead. Raphael was there with the Nikolaev men and Nico Morrelli.” Neither one of them recognized Nico Morrelli as a mobster that ran the D.C. and Maryland underworld. The only reason I knew that fact was because of who my father was.

“You think he knows what happened?” Willow asked.

“I don’t know,” I rasped.

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