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“Let’s go,” he tells me, and I shake my head.
“No. I’m not going in there to do whatever sick thing you’re planning. Take me home, Nico.” I turn stern and try to act unafraid.
“Fine.” He grabs my arm with enough force to get me out of the car. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s startling.
“Nico! Stop!” He pulls me to the front door, and I dig in my heels the whole way.
“Stop fighting this, Emelia!”
“You stop scaring me and let me go!” I fight back.
“No, not going to happen. Now get in the fucking warehouse,” he says through gritted teeth.
Those eyes reappear.
The ones that terrify me to the bone.
I shut down, self-preservation kicking in, and let him lead the way.
We first enter into darkness, the only light coming from an open door at the end of what looks like a narrow hall.
“Walk to the door,” he instructs, and I gulp and slowly start moving, with Nico hot on my trail. The closer we get, the more nauseated I become. When we’re only a few feet from the door, he says, “Go ahead and enter. Enjoy the gift I got you,wife.” He draws out the last word with sarcasm and some sort of sick pleasure from whatever is waiting.
With a deep breath, I take a step inside, and the moment I do, I hear muffled pleading. I look to the left, where there are a bunch of lights set up in a circle, but that's not the part I linger on for long. Tied up and bleeding from different parts of his face… is Damian.
“Damian!” I run to him, not caring what happens.
He lets out pained pleas for help around the cloth in his mouth.
Damian has his arms tied behind his back and to the chair, and his ankles are tied to the legs. Giulio stands in the corner stoically. He doesn't even look at us. His eyes stay focused on the wall to the left of us. I’m on my knees and looking for a way to untie Damian, all while waiting for Nico to intervene and pull me off, but he doesn't.
When I fail to untie him, I turn to Nico, who stands next to a table with various medical instruments, knives, a gun, and brass knuckles. He stands so cockily, with his arms crossed, in that now familiar stance. But the worst part is how amused and intrigued he looks. Like he’s watching caged animals trying to fight their way out of captivity.
This bastard.
But if I fight him, I will have a significantly lower chance of getting Damian out of here alive.
“Nico. Please, let him go. Why are you doing this?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just sit back and enjoy the show.” He admires the assortment of knives on the table next to him and glides his hands slowly over each one before picking one up.
“You're an asshole! I have not spoken to him, and you’re do this because of what? An alpha pissing contest! Fuck you, Nico! Let him go!” I scream. I look to Giulio to see if there is any sympathy from him, but he is still staring blankly at the wall. I guess that answers my question of if he ever had a soul at all. He is just as heartless as Nico.
“Oh really? So you think he is worth sparing and this is all because I have to claim dominance?” Nico questions, stepping up to Damian and me.
I peer up at him through angry eyes. If I could kill him with a look, I would.“Yes. That's what you have been alluding to since we got in the damn car. Why else would you hurt him?”
Nico looks to Giulio and gives him a nod, and I hear Giulio's steps before I see him, and suddenly I’m pulled away, but not without kicking and screaming. I thrash around and yell for him to let me go, but he ignores me. And my pleas mold together with Damian’s as we both watch in horror when Nico brings the knife to the trapped man’s pinky. And with what looks like no effort, he starts to slice, slowly removing his finger.
I scream so loud my heart skips, and my ears and head throb.“Nico! Please! I love him! Please stop! Don’t be like my father! Please!” I resort to a last-ditch effort to stop him. I look at the tears pouring from Damian’s eyes, and his muffled screams will be a sound that haunts me forever.
Once his pinky is removed, Nico turns to me, blood on his hand and all the way up to his crisp white shirtsleeve. He wears a sinister grin, and I bend over and vomit at the sight.
“Good girl, let it all out. Vomit the rest of him out of your system.”
“Why are you doing this?” I cry harder, and he steps up to me calmly, the knife in one hand and the other reaching into his pocket. I still struggle to release myself from Giulio but to no avail.
“Would a man who loves you in the same regard betray you like this, principessa?” He holds up his phone, and my eyes try to focus past the tears.
