The Mafia King's Thief

Mete

Alessio's POV

Talk about a woman who gets on my nerves every so f*****g often and do not talk about the thief that was caught in my bedroom that I forced to marry me, and I'll wait till f*****g eternity.

That woman is messed up in the head, and she has started to affect me. I have temper issues and all, but this woman makes it f*****g worse–hence my taking her away from Sicily. That isn't the main reason, though. This place isn't safe. The death 9f the minister who officiated our wedding is a attests to that, and once that happened, I saw the look on her f*****g face. I hate her so much, but I couldn't bear seeing the fear on her face. I took her to Milan to stay in one of the many cosy homes scattered around Italy that I own. She'd be safe there for now.

I know Aida can be very frustrating, but I can't have her staying in that house all alone. I also put about three security guards there to inform me when anything goes wrong. So far so good, nothing serious has happened (except I'm supposed to talk about how she and Aida constantly argue like no man's business). They're good.

Now, back to my business.

When my cousin was shot, it was clear that the killers were trying to send me a message. It'll take ages to try to get to the root of this, but I made Francesca a promise that I was going to see all of this through–trust me, I haven't even started. I pushed all of it backwards because I had a contract marriage, but now that all of that is over with, it's time. Being the Mafia king, I have a lot of enemies, enemies I knowingly made, and ones I don't even know exist. They're all coming for my head.

"Chiamo la polizia. Fammi uscire da questo fottuto posto!" The captive that we have in the trunk hits the rear glass aggressively, and all I can do is smile. She doesn't even know half of it yet. Now, I'm not a fan of hitting women. That isn't because they are innocent. I know a lot of people belonging to that gender that hide behind that 'innocence' facade when in reality, they're more dangerous than vipers.

Translation - I'll call the police. Let me get out of this f*****g place!

I'm tempted to give a response, but I don't want my identity to be made known yet. I'd like for it to be a spectacular revelation. The expression on her face will be so f*****g priceless.

Her face is covered in a mask that only gives room for breathing, albeit the mask is made from wool, so I might as well wish her good luck on trying to see through the little holes of the material. If she tries hard, I feel like she'll come out successful, though.

"f**k you!" I hear her say, and I think she's gotten hurt. I cackle before I clasp my fingers, putting each one in their interdigital folds.

Anna was on the move too quickly after Caterina was shot. I heard that two days after her death, she was in another state entirely–the whole thing made me question her whole motive. If she knew nothing about this or had no hand in it, why run? After all, it had been a few minutes after she had left Francesca's house before Anna was shot.

As we get closer and closer to my house, I notice something different in me. Normally, once something like this is about to begin, I like to Revel in the before and after pleasure, but now, it's as though I feel absolutely nothing whatsoever. No emotions or feelings of any kind. Shrugging, I push the thought aside. Maybe everything will come rushing down once punishment is about to be meted. For now, it's just dead vibes.

Digging my hand into my pocket, I fish out my phone, and turn it on. I badly want to text Aida to ask how everything is going in Milan(emphasis on badly), but I have some serious s**t to do tonight that requires my unwavering focus. I might end up doing something I'd regret for the rest of my life if I don't put my mind on this s**t.

The phone has been turned off for hours. Of course, I'd have gotten so many calls about business and crimes, and normally, my mind is always operational among them all, but I can't even seem to have my attention on a single thing tonight, plus, my heart is beating extremely fast that I want to dissect my chest region, pull the f*****g organ out and tell it to behave, but I'd die before all of that happens.

The gates slide open once the code is punched in, and the driver is in the house in no time. I loosen my tie and get it off of me before opening the door with all the aggression one can have at once. I'm on my way to the bar before I know it. A glass of wine or two might cure all of this nonsense. I need my head in the game because I have to be precise and accurate. What I want to do is to turtore her, but with the way I'm active, I'd be shocked if she sees tomorrow. In this game, precision matters.

I get into the bar, get a glass and pour some vodka. Trust me, I'm going to need a lot to calm down. And so I down a lot. When I feel like my heart isn't beating too fast, I take a deep breath, use the back of my hand to wipe my mouth before getting out of the bar.

❦

I'm at the entrance on the torture room in no time, and I spot the one who is getting tortured tonight at the middle of the room, the only light is in the center, focused on her. Like a pianist that everyone paid a fuckton of money to see play. I mean, I have to give it to her. She's the show tonight. Sweat has already wet her clothes. I turn to look at my men. That look alone is a question. I'm asking them if they wet her clothes, and once the information has been passed across, they shake their heads. Her sweat glands must be in action today, then. The minute she's aware of someone else's presence, she begins to shiver like an animal that was beaten under the rain. I walk toward the chair she's seated on, and I squat, giving her a full once over before taking off the mask that covered her face. She's scared as s**t, and as soon as she sees my face, it isn’t difficult to recognise me.

“Oh,” She says, the range of her voice too f*****g unstable.

“Sei sorpreso di vedermi?” I ask, and she inhales a sharp breath. No, I didn’t poke or prod anything into her. I’m heartless, I know, but it’s not gotten to that level. Yet.

Translation - Are you surprised to see me?

“ I swear, it wasn’t me.”

Considering the fact that I am yet to start with her, and she’s started to spill things that I haven’t even asked makes it all the more interesting.

I stroke my bearded chi for a little bit before a wicked laugh makes its way past my lips. She knows not to do this.

“I was unaware you spoke English.” I say, smiling.

I push my hands out, and stretch my palm, and one of my men drops a knife on it. Slowly, but surely, we’ll get to the end of this.

While I’m about to trace the tip of the knife along her throat, she’s already inhaled so sharply, but I get distracted by the vibration of the phone in my pocket. In my mind, I think it is Aida, and I want to ignore it so badly, but I sigh and bring it out of my pocket. Lorenzo’s name flashes across the screen, and I freeze for a few seconds. It is very unlike him to call me except some serious s**t is about to go down.

Thinking about all the possible things that could go wrong, I answer the phone.

“Capo, devi venire al club!” His voice is shaky and she sounds very out of breath.

Translation- Boss, you have to come down to the club.

I don’t even wait to ask him what has gone wrong because I know that in my world, things go wrong so quickly. I cut the call, toss the knife on the floor ad get the f**k up.

“Marco, come with me. The rest of you, keep an eye on her.” With all of that being said, I’m out of the torture room. I can feel the alcohol I consumed not too long ago mixing with the blood coursing through my veins, and I know what’s coming next. I hope I do something I’ll end up regretting.

I’m in the car before I know it while Marcos scurries after me, the leaves of a tree sort of stopping him.

I tell my driver where I’m headed and from the rearview mirror, I can see him nod.

It’s like he reads my mind like an open book and he knows that it is a matter of urgency, and not one of those rides that I just need to calm down, chill and enjoy nature. Chilling, calming down and enjoying nature will come later. For now , they can f**k off because if I attempt any of them, my club could crumble and I know what goes on in that club to not give a f**k. It isn’t about the horny men who come in there to make it rain multiple currencies while they watch young girls dance and take off their clothes, no. That club is where I make some business decisions that have gotten me to where I am. That f*****g club was the club I had the meeting with the priest who officiated my wedding to that thief. He’s dead now, though. I’m sure it’s all part of all of this mystery that I’m about to unravel. I don’t care how long it f*****g takes, all I know it that I’ll get down to the root of it. I know my mind isn’t f****d up.

He gets there, and before he even parks the car, I’ve unlocked it and bolted out. I place a hand on my holster to feel it, and my gun is very much in place. Smoke billows from the club, and I can’t even see anything talk more of forcing my imagination to try and paint a f*****g picture.

I know it’s burning inside, but like the stubborn man that I am, I sprint into the smoke and begin to cough. There is no space whatsoever to breathe, but something must kill a man. I am not f*****g dying tonight, rest assured.

My eyes can’t even make out anything from the sight before me. It feels as though smoke has gotten into them and is about to make me go blind completely.

I can hear a ton of people coughing, trying to fight so hard so that their lungs don’t give up on them here and now, but the way the cough sounds, I know it is too late.

I’m fainting, myself, not to lie. I feel very f*****g feeble. My strength is failing me gradually, and I know that I have to do something. I have to save myself and still get to the root of this problem. Otherwise, I'll die a meaningless death, and my enemies will laugh at me to scorn.

With the vigor that I have left, I pull one of the men I can find in my now blurry, burnt club and drag him all the way out. Once Marco spots me outside, he walks briskly to come to my aid. We open the trunk of the car and toss the man I pulled out inside. I look around for Lorenzo, but he's nowhere in sight. I'm panting and sweating when my phone vibrates again, and thinking he's the one, I hurriedly fish it out. Staring at my screen, I see a text message that can't be sent by any other person. It's Aida's number, but I know too well that it isn't Aida.

It says 'You're a f*****g d**k'. I take a deep breath and get into the car.