HER DEFIANCE

LORENZO

Metallica blasted from the double speakers deafening what should have been screaming from the poor fucker that had unfortunately become a buffer for my anger against the person I really wanted to torture but couldn't.

The man whom I hated more than anyone, the coward that I made the mistake of keeping alive instead of ending him when I had the chance.

A loud gurgle and groan of pain distracted me from that line of thought before I went into that dark hole of regret. I sent Giacomo a cold warning glare as he maniacally shook his bindings, twisting on his toes with the meager strength he had left after the few days we'd been together.

We'd had so much fun, or at least I did, him not so much. He was one of the few I'd had high expectations for among my soldiers. A pity really, that he'd failed me.

There's no escaping for him; I knew it, and so does he. Not after what the dumb fucker did, but despite knowing this, he's still fighting his fate even now, which I find irritating. Surely, he didn't think he could escape from here; he at least is still alive, unlike the other dumb fucker.

He probably wished he was the one dead; they both should have known there was no way they'd disobey me and live; there's absolutely no way anyone would shoot at my wife who's carrying my unborn child and live. I still don't understand how they could dare go against my specific orders not to shoot at Sancia and do exactly that.

The fuckers!

They'd shot at her and dared to lie to me; if there hadn't been bullets missing from their guns, I would have probably believed them, but I'd been there, I'd seen them. Which makes me question how stupid they are.

Because my men would never go against my orders ever unless they wish for death, but this fucker did, which leads me to believe they're dumb or plain stupid. Either way, they've cost me my wife. Even now, I find myself asking if the bullet has somehow touched Sancia and if she was injured by it.

The fear I'd felt when I'd raced after them only to find traces of blood on the ground was indescribable. I'd race after the Chevy that was supposed to be the car she'd escaped in, only to find it was empty except for the driver, who was a diversion. I'd instantly shot the fucker, and now I can't fucking find her.

My Tigre.

Fighting the urge to stab Giacomo’s eyes and be done with the whole thing. I take a step back to take a closer look through the different blades from the arrays of blades spread on the small table like a surgeon's dream. I'd rather not give him the quick death he sought.

Though my hand was bloody, I gripped the sharp forceps with steady fingers as I pried the man's mouth wide a dozen times. The bastard knew what was coming, shook his head, a completely futile move; it hadn't saved him the other dozen times; I doubt it would save him now; by the time I'm done with him, he's going to be toothless and cockless.

He's already fingerless, so unless he tells me what I want and I decide to show him mercy, which, let's be honest, I have none right now. There's no emotion inside me, only cold fury as my grip on his jaw tightens, and using the other hand, I force my forceps into his mouth, careful not to touch his tongue.

I need him to talk after all and he can't obviously do that without his tongue. Unlike a dentist, I wasn't gentle when I dug the tips of the forceps around his molar and dug out another one of his teeth; blood shot out like a spigot, dripping down his jaws, my fingers, and my hand.

I threw the tooth away, my face blank with cold indifference, I went to pluck out another one when the music suddenly stopped. I sigh and glance at Luca expectantly to hear what I've been patiently waiting for.

But one glance was all it took for me to know we'd failed to locate Sancia again. How could a slip of a woman escape me so easily? It's been two fucking weeks of searching and looking everywhere. It's just isn't possible unless that fucker is still with her even now. That idiot she'd saved from me.

That cold, controlled fury inside me was suddenly a raging inferno looking for an outlet, and the bastard right in front of me was the perfect victim. Forgetting my plans to torture him until I find the truth of why he'd dare go against my orders I went straight to stab him.

“We've found Marcello.” The words instantly stopped me. My hands pause, barely a hair’s breadth from his jugular; anticipation rushes through me like the first breath of air after strangulation. I whirl around to face Luca.

“Where?” My voice was low but Luca must have heard the pure rage and excitement in my voice because he looked at me knowingly. I know he was worried about my state of mind, but really, what did he expect?

“On a cruise ship in Marghera,” he replied, cautiously. My brows creased.

“He's trying to flee? Is he with his family?” I asked, throwing the forceps on the table, my victim completely forgetting the thought of a much bigger fish.

“No, he's alone. Fabio and Gino got him. They're waiting for your orders I know you'll like to handle this personally, do you want him brought over here?”

“Damn right, I do and no. I want to them to secure him. Come on, let's go meet that son of a bitch.” I started for the stairs and faltered when I remembered the man hanging from the ceiling.

“Ahh, Giacomo. Forgive my rudeness I was excited with the news. Congrats, it seems you get to live for another day; you're proving to be a hard man to kill,” I said with a humorless grin.

My steps were fast, my heart pounding with the thought of getting answers as I ascended from the basement in The Pleasure Hole (Il buco del piacere), my club.

As always the club was full and busy, the music was loud, alcohol was flowing like water while the girls working did what they did best, dancing and encouraging men to drink more and more. The gaming tables were packed with gamblers, stupid fuckers who never learn.

I didn't care how frightening I looked with my blood-soaked clothes. This wasn't something new to anyone who had been here before except for the new customers.

And if they are afraid good for them at least they'll know what will happen to them if they try any nonsense in my club.

The drive to the port took less than the time it should have taken due to the urgency of the situation and how important it was to me. Luca had raced through the road like the hounds of hell were after us and I'd appreciated his thoughtfulness.

Thirty minutes later I stare at the lights glinting from ships and ferries in the Porto Marghera. The usually busy port was mostly empty, probably because it was a time most people wouldn't be caught dead in this time; they'd probably prefer to be in bed snoring away to la la land.

Unlike people in my line of work. Midnight was the best time of business for people like me, it's when things that should never see the light of day are best buried or done.

Things like drowning a man over and over again to get the answers I need which might be frown upon. And if his answer wasn't satisfactory it's where he might get buried only for his body to be found the next morning or never be found if I so wish and he knows it too that his life is in my hands right now.

“Enough, take him out,” I ordered coldly. Without watching as Gino and Fabio began to lift him up.

I completely ignore the man dangling from below until they throw him on the deck roughly like a rag doll. Marcello had been bound with chains when I saw him; I'd order Gino and Fabio to send him for a late-night swim after the stubborn fucker refused to tell me what I needed to know.

Using the davit used to lower the raft or a lifeboat, I'd had them secure him like bait to a fishing hook, completely at my mercy while they'd lowered him into the sea using the brakes to lift him up each time, I think he was close to choking on the salty water.

I'm sure by now the idiot is done swimming probably forever if his coloring is any indication; he'd had a couple of close encounters with death tonight, and I'll make it much, much worse if he does give me what I want.

With fingers stained crimson, I slip one cigar from the pack of Oro Blanco Davidoff I keep in my pocket and put it between my lips. Taking my accendino I lit it and took my first drag, thick smoke billows in front of me, when I expelled it in the open.

My mouth wrapped around the cigar and took another long drag. Before puffing out another bout of white clouds, I don't usually smoke, but I find myself imbibing a lot of the damn shit lately.

Smoking was a bad habit I'd developed during my teenage years, and it kind of stuck over the years; I'm not like the usual addicts. I could go days without having a single smoke, and I was never truly a slave to it. I know I could leave it anytime I want, but I like the calming effect it gives me, especially when I'm high and feeding on rage.

And these days, rage and anger are all I know. The cigar is one of two things that marginally calms me these days, the other being vodka, but this calm was only a temporary fix; there's absolutely nothing that could provide the calm and peace I'd sought more than having her back.

Sancia!

My wife, my obsession. The mother of my unborn child. She'd fucking run from me and shoot at me to save that spineless bastard.

It fucking enraged me every fucking time I thought of that day; I tried not to get drown in the memory because the outcome would be catastrophic, at least for the poor asshole I was here for tonight.

My eyes narrowed on the middle-aged man kneeling on the floor of the second deck of the cruise ship. After pounding his face for a good five minutes, the bastard had sworn he wasn't trying to run away and didn't know anything, which we all know was a lie, and even if it was the truth, I don't particularly care. I could take my anger out on the father while I searched for the son.

Luca had stopped me earlier before I ended him without getting the answers I sought, which was why I'd decided to send him into the water so he could rethink his decision again; Luca saving him doesn't mean shit. That isn't to say he might survive this night after he's done proving his usefulness.

My Consigliere eyes me as though I were a man teetering at the edge of madness and he doesn't know how right he was. I was always at that place all my life, the place between sanity and madness.

However losing Sancia has sent me spiraling into the dark abyss, and the only thing stopping me from crashing into it headfirst was the absolute certainty I have inside me. I know I will be seeing her again and this time when I get home I'll never make the same mistake twice.

I will accept that allowing her to go with that piece of shit was the most stupid thing I'd ever done. My mistake was thinking they wouldn't get far on foot without a ride, but I was wrong. By the time I raced after her, she was gone.

I still can't believe how that had happened, which goes to show how much I'd underestimated my Sancia. I knew something was wrong that night, but she'd been so innocent, staring at me with her beguiling golden eyes, reciprocating even more than usual. Kissing and touching me back with the same hunger, moaning and crying out in ecstasy.

As I bring us both pleasure, seeing her that way I'd forgotten my paranoia and let down my guard for the first time. She'd fucking drugged me, that instantly, I felt sleepy after I'd emptied my balls inside her.

Fortunately, I hadn't drunk all of the vodka, or else I might have missed her escape. I'd made a mistake; I should have trusted my instinct; it had never failed me before. I survived this long because I'd never questioned my gut feeling.

But because of Sancia, I'd forgotten all that. What's done is done, and I can't change the past, but I will get her back and rectify my mistake.

“Where are they?” Luca growls at the man shaking like a drown cat, looking like a fucking ghost.