Page 15 of Beautiful Devil

“Ti mostrerò quanto è bello il mio piede destro se non inizi a parlare.”I'll show you how nice my right foot is if you don't start talking.

Kicking him again in the ribs, I hear a cracking sound.

Yep, I just broke your ribs, fucker.

This is exactly what I needed. Time away to clear my head. A good…interrogation…always does the trick.

Getting annoyed with his lack of participation, I say,“Parla, stronzo.” Talk, asshole.

Through clenched teeth, he responds,“Vaffanculo.” Fuck you.

At that, I kick him again in the ribs. Every breath he takes sounds painful, and that makes my lip quirk up a little, a small smile forming on my face.

Walking over to a table along the back side of the wall, I find every tool imaginable at my disposal, begging me to carve up and rip this fucker apart until he decides to give me some answers. Looking over my choices, I raise my hand over a carving knife with a thick wooden handle. It’s dark brown, but the stain is faded from all the times I’ve used it to cut my enemies open after endless hours of torture. The blade is long and thin with a curve at the tip that has the ability to puncture any organ or major arteryjust right, causing the owner to bleed out slowly and painfully.

Oh, yes, this knife will do just fine.

I grab it off the table, and as soon as it's in my hands, a feeling of calmness washes over me. This is it; I’m in my element. My hand instantly closes over the handle in the most natural way all on its own.

Good ol’muscle memory.

I inhale properly for the first time since I walked in this room, turning around to see that Matteo is no longer moaning in pain but rather clutching his side as best as he can while tied to a chair.

That just won't do. Taking my time walking over to where he's still lying on his side, I feel myself itching to make contact with his body and paint his skin red with every ounce of blood he has. My heart beats in tandem to my booted footsteps on the concrete floor, and every step I get closer, I feel the beast inside taking over.

Showtime.

Kicking the foot of the chair to get his attention, I smile inwardly at the moan of pain he lets slip past his lips.

“Agggh.” He grits his teeth while shakily breathing through his nose as he finally looks up at me.

“Up you go,” I say, bending over at the waist, quickly grabbing the chair this heavy fucker is in, and placing him back on all fours in a sitting position.

The quick jostling movements definitely don't help his injuries, made evident by his heavy breathing and flared nostrils. I give an evil half-smile as I look down at him.

Switching back to English, I say, “Here's how this is going to go. I'm going to ask you a question, and you're going to answer it. If you don't, then I get to use my little friend here, carving your skin like a jack-o’-lantern.”

Crouching down so I’m eye level with this fucker, I look him directly in the eyes. “Let’s start with an easy one, shall we? What was your role in helping Gallo?”

Matteo only rears back and spits directly in my face.

So you want to play, do you?

His amusement fades when he catches me lifting the knife in my hand to ram it into the top of his thigh, all the way to the hilt, hitting bone.

“Gahhhhh! Fuck you, asshole!” Matteo screams as he thrashes in his chair. Little tiny beads of sweat mar on his forehead as he tries to pull himself together.

Ripping the knife out of his leg abruptly, I ask again. “What roledid you play in helping Gallo?”

Long gone is the cool exterior, and in its place is one of utter pain as he tries to get his breathing under control long enough to answer me.

“I…”

Cutting him off, I slice him diagonally across his chest from just below his left nipple all the way to his right hip. My knife cuts open his black shirt, showing his full chest and torso now, sending buttons flying across the floor, pinging like marbles when they land. I make sure not to go too deep so he doesn’t die too quickly. It’s definitely not a surface cut, made evident by the amount of blood now covering his chest, stomach and hip as it cascades down his body like a waterfall, pooling at the waistband of his dark jeans.

He screams in pain again and says through clenched teeth, “Aghhh! What the fuck?!”

“You were taking too long to answer.” I shrug my shoulders and continue. “Parla,stronzo.What did Gallo want with you? What did he hire you for?''

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