Page 55 of Cruel Bratva King

“I know.” He hugged me tighter. “I know you were scared.”

It wasn’t until I was safe in his arms that I allowed myself to cry.

Chapter 24 - Lilianna

“Blood. There’s blood everywhere,” Lilianna said. It had been ten minutes, yet she hadn’t stopped shaking from the shock.

Her eyes darted all over the place, and although she was here, she wasn’t really here. It was as if she’d dissociated from reality. “Sergey’s crispy white shirt is drenched in it, there are splatters on the bed, a puddle on the floor, and…there is a lot more of the filthy liquid on my skin.”

She looked at me, her eyes sparkling with tears. “There’s blood everywhere.”

I cupped her face, struggling to hide how angry I was. Seeing Lilianna hurt and helpless was gut-wrenching. I could go on a killing spree right now, but my wife hated it. She tried to look at the floor, but I tilted her face back to me.

The Italian fucker and his henchmen occupied the floor, and I didn’t want to worsen her state of mind by allowing her to see them. I placed my hand on her swollen cheek and rubbed a thumb over her bruised lip.

That bastard had not only hit my wife, but he’d also tried to rape her too. If I could, I would bring him back and kill him all over again. A swift death was too merciful, he deserved to be tortured, but he got off easily.

If hell existed, we could settle that score when I got there.

For now, I was going to focus my anger on making my wife feel better. After that, I was going to direct my fury at someone else. Whoever was responsible for this was going to pay.

“I’ll wash the blood away, okay?”

She nodded. Her eyes still bulged with both shock and terror.

Taking off my jacket, I draped it on her shoulder and carried her out of the room in bridal style. Her hands were cold against my chest, her tremble conspicuous as I carried her in my arms. “Where are we going?” she asked quietly.

“To my room.” Lilianna hadn’t stepped a foot into my room before now, but that was going to change as of this moment.

When we got to the room, I helped her take the jacket off and whatever was left of her nightie, then filled the bathtub and placed her inside. I helped her wash her hair and bathe, then I carried her into the room and helped her into one of my button-down shirts.

“Sergey.” She called my name weakly as I tucked her in bed. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come. I was scared something had happened to you.”

I smiled through the ache tearing my heart into pieces. “I will always come, Lilianna. I promised to keep you and our baby safe, didn’t I?”

“Thank you for coming, and for protecting us.” She rubbed her hand on her belly. “I thought we were both going to die.”

“You’re never going to die, and neither will our baby.” I planted a kiss on her forehead and tried to leave, but she held my hand.

“Stay with me, please.”

I obliged and sat by the bed with her, holding her hand until she fell asleep. Kissing the back of her hand and sparing her one long look, I left the room and headed for the basement. Of all the men who crossed my territory tonight, only one survived, and I was going to show him hell.

Vlad and Maxim were already at it when I came into the basement. The guy was already in pretty bad shape. One of his thighs was bleeding from where a dagger was buried, his eyes so swollen I doubt he could see with them. Blood gushed down his throat and…what’s that on the floor?He’d lost a tooth or two.

“Hello, brother,” Maxim greeted. His face had a wicked gleam, sweat prickling down his forehead. My brother looked like a psychopath killer, enjoying every bit of torture he was granting our latest prisoner. “You came just in time.”

“You didn’t leave any piece of him for me to work on.” I undid the buttons on my shirt sleeve and rolled it up. “But I guess I can work with what’s left.” I removed my Patek Phillip 5004T wristwatch and placed it on a table at the corner of the basement, and then I faced the Italian. “Talk!”

The fucker looked at me, and instead of talking, he pursed his lips. “You’ll never get anything out of me.”

I smiled. The others before him always said the same thing, pretending to be lions when they were just chickens. This Italian bastard probably didn’t know much about me cause if he did, he’d know I always got what I wanted. Always.

“We’ll see about that.” Balling my hands into fists, I drove one of them into his face. His head fell back from the force. He hadn’t recovered from the first punch when I drove my fist into his face. Again and again.

He wasn’t on the brink of death yet, and I didn’t stop until he was. “Listen, fucker. You have only two options. Tell me what I want to hear and get a swift death or live out the rest of your years on earth as my prisoner. The choice is yours.”

Before he could decide, I dug my fingers into his skin, where the dagger was buried, and squeezed tightly. He screamed, his cry loud and edged with agony. “I’ll talk,” he cried. “I’ll talk.”

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