“I’ll be fine,Papi. Just send a different bodyguard to stand outside my door.”
“I have a better idea,” he mumbled, walking towards my kitchen and pouring himself a glass of water with his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder. “Callum. Are you free this afternoon and evening?”
I sat bolt upright, my eyes wide as I shook my head at mypapi. He ignored me, of course.
“Bravo.Would you be able to stay with Arianna? I have work commitments, but I need someone I trust watching over her.”
“Papi!” I hissed, climbing off the sofa and scrambling towards him. I couldn’t believe he was doing this to me.
“Grazie. I’ll send you the address. Ciao.”
“I could murder you! That was so embarrassing!” I shouted, slamming my hand on the counter. He smirked and bopped my nose.
“Better you murder me than Buccini murders you,luce mia.”
Well, that shut me up.
Believe
Isnapped the black plastic gloves over my hands and pressed play on my playlist. The delightful sound of Cher’s distinctive voice filled the underground bunker. I fucking loved blaring her in this place because the acoustics were phenomenal.
My head bobbed, and my hips swayed to the beat. The music was flowing through me. This was my happy place. Cher, my sanctuary, and a tied-up, half-consciousstronzo.
I closed my eyes and belted out the first chorus of Believe, ignoring his muffled sounds from beneath the rag and black hood covering his head. With precision, I arranged all my favourite torture toys in a line on the table, giving each one a wipe and inspection as I danced and sang along.
I two-stepped over to the huge bulk of muscle, who was currently heaving with his covered head hanging low to his chest.
“Do you believe in life after love?” I bellowed along with Cher, my voice echoing off the cement walls.
I whipped the hood off and flung it across the room, grinning down at the dickhead. He blinked rapidly, trying to get his bearings before his gaze landed on me.
“Cher’s the motherfucking queen. Mymammahas always been obsessed with her, so I grew up listening to her greatest hits, and fuck me, when that voice hits that note.” I paused, raising my knife in the air as Cher’s husk took the song to a whole new level. I closed my eyes and shook my head. “There. Makes me all stab-happy.”
His eyes widened, darting around the abandoned space, searching for an exit. He wouldn’t find one. No one was coming to save him. We were all alone. Just him, me, and the Goddess of Pop.
I crouched in front of him, bouncing on the balls of my feet, and instructed my phone to turn down the music a little. I yanked the rag out of his mouth.
“What the fuckis—”
I plunged the knife straight into his shoulder. He threw his head back and roared until I pulled the blade out and gave the other the same treatment. I didn’t want to seem like I had favourites. Panting heavily, he glared up at me from beneath dark eyebrows.
“I’ll ask the questions, Damiano.” I grabbed a chair, spun it around, straddled it, swinging my blade that now dripped with his blood in a pattern on the floor. “Who do you work for?”
He exhaled slowly, lifting his chin to stare me directly in the eyes. “Mayor Piero Caruso hired me as his head of Security for his daughter. But you already know that, Buccini.”
I nodded because I did. I’d had to watch this piece of shit following my girl for over a week, staring at her ass, touching her back, smiling at her like he deserved her fucking politeness. I clicked my neck to the side and let Cher’s voice take me back to my happy place. It was too soon to unleash my darkness.
“And what’s your main role?” I asked, sounding calmer than I felt. He stared at me, his stupid survival instincts trying to decide whether to be honest or deny. Neither would lead to a different outcome.
“To keep her safe. Mainly away from you.”
I smirked, tossing the knife in the air and catching it.
“To keep her safe?” I pointed the knife at his face, the sharp tip millimetres from his eyeball. “Does Piero know about your past?” I asked, standing up from my chair and walking around his. That dark gaze tracked my every move, and I could see his wrists squirming behind his back as he tried to break the cable ties. Of course, the more he moved, the tighter they cut into his skin.
When he didn’t respond, I grabbed his hair from behind, yanking his head to the side and slowly slicing off his ear, relishing his screams. The fresh blood dripped down the side of his neck like wax running down a candle. Hypnotising. He roared in agony, thrashing against the restraints until I released his hair, shoving his head forward.
“Hopefully, you can hear better now,” I said, walking away a few steps.
