Forbidden Claim: A Mafia King’s Obsession

Chapter 30:Clara

Nadia’s POV

The rays of sunlight piercing in through the window and settling directly on my face is the first thing I see when I finally wake up. I couldn’t sleep at all last night. I keep tossing and turning, looking behind me at intervals, weary of the massive beast behind me. It was almost dawn when sleep finally consumed me.

I sit up gently on the bed, rubbing my tired eyes. But then, I realize the other side of the bed is empty. Where is he? He was here last night.

“You are finally awake, piccola.”

I snap my head toward the direction of the voice, a chill running down my spine as my eyes meet with his. There he is. The dangerously handsome devil.

I swallow hard and back away toward the headboard, drawing the silk sheets up to my chest. He is seated on the plush couch on the far end of the suite, putting on only a jogger pant, leaving his upper body entirely exposed. The bandage has been changed, replaced with a new and clean one. A cigar rests loosely in between his fingers as he draws deeply from it, puffing a thick cloud of smoke into the already suffocating atmosphere. How can someone who was badly injured yesterday be smoking like this?

“You slept for so long I was almost tempted to do a few things to that pretty body of yours before you wake up,” he says, a dark chuckle rumbling at the back of his throat, his expression suddenly shifting from stern to a lustrous one.

I pull the sheets tighter to my body, i don’t feel any soreness, except the stinging pain from the bruise on my neck. Is he trying to frighten me?

“Tell me, Nadia… what would you do if I killed someone you liked so much?” he suddenly asks, making my breath hitch completely in my throat.

I swallow the invisible lump that suddenly forms in my throat, trying to find my voice. “What… what are you talking about?”

He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t move, he just keeps drawing deep from his cigar and puffing smoke into the tense air, his gaze fixed sternly on me, never leaving my face. He stays that way for a long time, and when the cigar is almost burnt out, he drops it in the ashtray before gulping down the glass of water that was sitting on the table beside the couch.

Then, he gets up from the couch, his towering frame entirely dominating the suite, walks into his closet and comes out wearing a brown t-shirt that makes his muscles and broad shoulders much more pronounced, and matches the color of his jogger pants.

“Get up, Nadia,” he growls, his expression suddenly shifting to his usual cold and detached demeanor. “There’s a show I’d like you to watch with me.”

A show?

“Wh… what show?” I ask in a silent whisper, my voice cracking as I try to keep it steady.

“Don’t ask me stupid questions and get the f**k up before I do something very dangerous to you, piccola,” the rage flashing in his eyes acts like an electricity jolt. I spring up from the bed, straightening my gown and following behind him to the door. The mansion is in a mini renovation procedure, doors are being replaced with much heavier and secure ones, the windows that got shattered by bullets are replaced with bulletproof glasses.

Lorenzo leads me toward the back of the mansion, descending a roll of stone stairs that took quite a long time until we came out to an old, darker looking part of the mansion. The first thing I see is a rack filled with different kinds of torture weapons. Realization hits me immediately. This is a dungeon. A torture prison. Why is he bringing me here? Is he going to torture me to death?

As we move further into the dark depths of the dungeon, a shrieking cry echoes through the air of the dungeon, vibrating through the slightly damp walls. I stop dead in my tracks immediately, taking shaky steps backward. Lorenzo notices and stops too, turning around to glare at me, his gaze sends me stumbling further away.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his gaze Boring holes into my already trembling body.

“I… I don’t want to be here. Please, let me go back up,” I murmur, gripping the sides of my gown, digging my fingers into it.

Lorenzo lunges forward and grips my arm in a painful, bruising grip, the force drags a painful wince off my throat. He looks down at me, his breath fanning across my face as the darkness in his eyes grows. “I never asked if you wanted to be here, piccola. So you will tag along peacefully or i’ll drag you.”

He starts pulling me forward until we are fully inside the torture chambers, the cries I heard growing closer and closer. He releases my arm, shoving me away roughly. I lift my eyes instantly, the sight my eyes catches steals every breath I have left in my lungs.

Strapped to an iron chain, beaten to stupor, with blood dripping from her mouth and bruises marring her once beautiful and spotless face is Clara, the girl Lorenzo had assigned to me. The same girl who has made me smile and taken care of me ever since I arrived in this place. Her swollen bloodshot eyes slowly rises to meet mine. I can feel the fear radiating off her entire body.

My heart stops. My stomach tightening as i take several steps backward, my hand flying to cover my mouth as I muffle the sobs threatening to break through my throat, hot tears already pooling behind my eyelids.

How could he do this to her? Why?