Doomed to Love the Mafia Boss.

Chapter 24

Like none of them ever let them!

“Tsk, tsk… Trying to run from me? Look at me,” I demanded, spinning 360 degrees around my own body. “I’m hot. I look like a w***e, don’t I? Oops… you can’t see properly. But I’ll describe it for you. I’m like that girl you were going to rape. The only difference between you and me is that you were going to f**k her. And I’m only going to cut yours off.”

Could killing become an addiction?

“Don’t come near me!” He took long steps back and bumped into the dumpsters. If he could, he’d break through the wall to get away from me.

“You know why you’re lying there missing an eye and with a broken hand? You underestimated the w***e here. You should check your victims more carefully and make sure you’re the strongest. I checked. I saw you’re so weak, and that all your strength came from that glorious masculinity. That old premise that women are the fragile s*x. Then you thought how obvious my weakness was, didn’t you?”

“You’re crazy!”

“You have no idea how crazy. But come on, let me continue my line of reasoning, and tell me if I’m wrong, okay? If I’m wrong, you can consider getting out of here… alive. If I’m fragile because I don’t have a c**k, and you, who have that little thing there, are strong because of it, then the equation is simple.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We get rid of it! Then, in your shitty little head, we’re even.”

Elinor taught me to kill using torture only when necessary. But I couldn’t resist doing it on my solo flight, when I remembered that crime, by its very nature, is already torture.

Just dying was so simple and fleeting that doing that felt far more powerful.

“Don’t come near me!” He made a stop sign with his good hand.

“Or what? Are you going to f**k me, like you said before? Are you going to kill me? No, better! Turn me in to the police?” I clicked my tongue and got very close, staring into the bastard’s one remaining eye. “No, you’re not. You know why? I’m going to break your good arm, break your teeth, pull down your pants, cut off your c**k, shove it in your mouth, drive this dagger into your brain, and set you on fire. In that order, since I don’t want to make more of a mess by slitting your jugular or leave your teeth there for anyone to identify you. No, no. My plan is simply to make you disappear. Tomorrow they’ll find a pile of ashes and think someone set the trash on fire. And they’ll be right.”

He tried to say something, but I lunged at him, stabbing the knife into his good arm while he tried to defend himself, stop the bleeding, and avoid more pain with his broken hand.

But he soon gave up defending and put his hand over the new wound. I took the opportunity to rest his arm on my leg, creating a bridge between us, and forcefully pushed his elbow down. It’s more technique than strength, and Elinor taught me how to break an arm like no one else.

He howled as soon as he heard the “snap” from his limb. He was dazed with pain. He could no longer defend himself, so I got up to look for a brick or some rock. But what I found was a small wooden chock placed by the dumpster in the alley to balance it, since it was old. It looked like a block, and it would serve my purpose.

I placed it on the ground near the man and turned him face down, with his face to the floor. I squeezed his open wound on his now-broken arm, and he screamed. I took advantage of his open mouth and rested his jaw on the block, like it was a big sandwich.

I quickly stood up, preventing him from leaving the position.

“This is the part where I break your teeth,” I warned.

I stepped on his head. The force of my foot pressed his jaw and mandible against the block, making him bite down on it. I applied pressure as long as I could until I heard the crunching. I repeated the action several times until his dental arch was unrecognizable.

My chest rose and fell with adrenaline, and inevitably, I was overtaken by a feeling of vengeance. I had done this many times before, but with Elinor. That cold night in London, however, the feeling of flying free flooded me. It gave me a sense, a purpose in life, greater than all the purposes they had placed on my shoulders over time.

In that moment, while he was a mess of blood, wounds, and pain, I felt I could recover Alexandra.

In his semi-conscious state, I pulled down his pants and, with the same dagger, cut off his c**k in a perfect incision, accompanied by his maddened and useless screams—because no one dared to show up. I tore part of his shirt to handle the member, because I would never touch that disgusting thing. I squeezed his cheeks, making him open his mouth wider, and shoved it down his throat.

He slowly choked.

“This is the part where I’m being charitable and put an end to your suffering.”

I drove the knife into his frontal lobe and watched as his eyes went dark. I went over to the dumpster where I’d left the overalls and took out a bottle of alcohol and a lighter.

It was time for the grand finale, and I was about to land.

I soaked the man’s clothes and skin with the liquid and lit the match.

Watching that body blazing in front of me, consumed by flames, was poetic. It meant the end and the consummation of evil, even though, from then on, I myself wore its face—because I felt complete in becoming the executioner.

The fire crackled, and the smell of burning flesh disgusted me, but his exposed bones amid the ashes only added to the beauty. Before I could gather the bones to dispose of them, the image became ethereal when I heard small footsteps at the end of the alley. The girl was there and had watched everything. I worried she might turn me in, because I knew I’d get a colossal scolding that night for that distraction.

The girl didn’t come very close; her fear was obvious. I had already pulled her pants up but could see they were wet. She had peed in terror when the bastard grabbed her.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

I just nodded and watched her run away, certain she wouldn’t say anything and that I would never stop her.

It’s remembering that day that I calm my spirit and focus on the instructions Elinor sent me by message after I told her about my father’s new guest, the girl with the violet tattoo.

My mentor is currently in disguise with fake documents in Italy. She will help me when her identity is no longer a risk, and together, we will begin to recover every piece of ourselves that was destroyed.