Chapter 185 BECAUSE OF YOU.
\~~~LUCIANO.
I stepped out of the house that morning with a fire burning in my gut, the kind that had been simmering since Raina came back to me broken and empty. Viktor was right behind me, his heavy boots crunching on the gravel driveway. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine from the surrounding woods, but it did nothing to cool the rage inside me. We'd waited long enough.
Today, Marco and Talia would pay for every bruise on my wife's skin, for every tear she'd shed, and for the child we'd lost before we even had a chance to hold it. I slid into the black SUV, Viktor taking the wheel without a word. The engine roared to life, and we sped away from the estate, leaving the safety of our home behind.
The drive to the hideout took about an hour, winding through back roads that snaked through dense forests and avoided the main highways.
Viktor glanced at me once, his face set like stone. “You ready for this, boss?’' he asked, voice low.
“Ready?’' I snorted, staring out at the blurring trees. “I've been ready since the moment they took her.” He nodded, focusing back on the road.
The hideout was an old warehouse on the outskirts of the city, tucked away in an industrial zone long abandoned.
Chain-link fences topped with razor wire surrounded it, and my men patrolled the perimeter like shadows. As we pulled up, the gates swung open, and Gabriel was there to meet us. He looked like hell with dark circles under his eyes, and stubble rough on his jaw. Gabriel had been in charge here since we captured the bastards, but guilt ate at him like acid.
He'd driven Talia home that night, and he has been blaming himself for not seeing the difference between the two women.
“Boss,” he said, bowing and avoiding my eyes. “They're secure.”
I clapped his shoulder, feeling the tension in his frame. “You did your job, Gabriel. This isn't on you.”
But he just nodded, jaw tight, and led us inside. He hadn't left the place since we brought them in, sleeping on a cot in the back room, and making sure no one slipped up. Loyalty like that was rare in our world, and it fueled me even more.
The building smelled of damp concrete and rust, the air thick with the echo of dripping water from somewhere deep inside. We passed through a series of locked doors, my men nodding as we went.
Finally, Gabriel pushed open the door to the holding room. There they were, Marco and Talia, tied to thick iron rods bolted to the wall, their arms bound behind them, and their legs shackled to the floor. The room was bare, just cold stone walls and a single bulb swinging overhead, casting harsh shadows.
Marco looked like he'd been through a meat grinder. Blood crusted his split lip and the gash above his eye, his shirt torn and stained dark from whatever beating my men had given him to start.
His face was swollen, one cheek purpled, but his eyes still burned with defiance, and they locked on me the second I entered.
Talia, though, God, she was a mess. Bruises bloomed across her arms and neck, her clothes ripped at the seams, hanging off her like rags. Her hair, once so perfectly styled, flew all over the place, tangled and wild, matted with sweat. She looked smaller, broken already, but I felt no pity. This was the woman who'd betrayed her own blood, her twin sister, for some twisted grab at power.
The moment her eyes met mine, Talia burst into tears. Sobs wracked her body, her shoulders shaking as she strained against the ropes. “Luciano, please,” she choked out, voice raw and desperate. “I beg you. Don't do this. We are family. Raina is my sister. Please, have mercy!”
Marco stayed silent, his gaze steady, lips pressed into a thin line. No pleas from him, just that cold stare, like he was daring me to come closer.
I didn't flinch and didn't let her words touch me.
“Take her to the other room,’' I said to my men, voice flat as I turned away from her cries. Two of them moved in, untying her from the rod and dragging her out. She kicked and twisted, tears streaming down her face. “No! Luciano, listen to me! I didn't mean… Please, God, no! Have mercy!”
Her pleas echoed down the hall as they hauled her away, but I ignored them, focusing on Marco. He spat a glob of blood-tinged saliva at my feet, his eyes narrowing.
“Your time is coming soon," I told him, stepping closer so he could see the promise in my face. “Don't worry. You'll get yours.”
He laughed, a wet, mocking sound. “Nothing you do will make me beg for your mercy, you bastard. Do your worst.”
I smiled coldly, turning on my heel.
“Oh, I will,” With that, I left him there, the door slamming shut behind me. Viktor fell in step beside me as we headed to the torture room, Gabriel trailing with his head down.
The torture room was deeper in, a reinforced space with soundproof walls and drains in the floor for the mess. Tools hung on racks, knives, pliers, and things I'd used before on enemies who deserved it. Talia was already strapped to a heavy metal chair in the center, thick leather bands holding her wrists, ankles, and chest tight.
She thrashed as much as she could, her bruised face streaked with tears, hair sticking to her damp skin. The air reeked of fear, sharp and metallic.
She looked up at me, eyes wide with panic. “Luciano, wait! Let me explain, please, just hear me out!”
I ignored her, gesturing to Gabriel. “Bring it in,” He nodded and disappeared through a side door, his footsteps fading.
Talia’s gaze darted around the room, frantic, taking in the grim setup. “What is this? What are you doing? I can make this right!”
Gabriel returned a few minutes later, wheeling in the machine. It was a custom piece, built for pain and compact, like a medical device gone wrong.
A sturdy base on wheels held a mechanical arm ending in a sharp, pointed drill bit, narrow and gleaming under the lights.
Not big enough to kill quickly, but perfect for drawing out agony, and stabbing deep without ending it all at once.
They positioned it right in front of her, the drill hovering inches from her chest. Talia's breath hitched, her body going rigid. “No, no, please! Luciano, listen to me! I have to tell you why I did it all. When I found out you might be marrying me for revenge… it drove me crazy. I was so annoyed, so angry. So, I left, then, I found out that you married her. She didn't deserve you. She was weak, always hiding in her shell. I thought I could take control, and protect what was mine. Marco and I… we just wanted to fix things our way. Please, I beg you, understand!”
Her words tumbled out in a ramble, desperate and disjointed, but they slid off me like water. I stepped closer, my voice ice.
“‘My wife is in pain because of you,” paused, letting it sink in.
“Because of you, we lost what was supposed to bring so much joy to our family, and to our world.”
She sobbed harder, shaking her head.
“I am sorry! I didn't know… I swear, I didn't mean that. Let me make it right. I will do anything!'
I leaned in, eyes locked on hers. “Can you return the lost baby to her womb? Can you give back what you stole from us?”
She shut up then, mouth opening and closing, stuttering nonsense. “I... I can't... but please…”
“Proceed,” I said to Gabriel, stepping back.
He flipped a switch, and the machine whirred to life, a low mechanical hum filling the room. The arm extended slowly, the sharp drill bit and pointed like a vicious arrow, aiming straight for her heart.
Talia screamed, a raw, animal sound, bucking against the straps. “No! Stop! Please, God, no!”
It pressed forward, the tip piercing her shirt and skin with a sickening crunch. Blood welled up immediately, staining the fabric. The drill spun for twenty seconds, grinding into her chest, tearing flesh and muscle. She howled, body convulsing, veins bulging in her neck as agony ripped through her. Then it stopped, retracting just enough to leave the wound open and throbbing, but not deep enough to hit vital organs yet.
Talia gasped, choking on her screams, blood bubbling at her lips. “Ahh... please…”
I crossed my arms, watching her writhe. “The machine is programmed to drill every five minutes for twenty seconds. It will punch into your chest, tear you open, then wait. Five minutes of hellish pause before it starts again and you will feel every second.'
She gagged, tears mixing with the sweat on her face. “P… please… you can’t… do this…”
“This is the befitting punishment for you,” I said, voice steady and cold. “You will feel ten times the horror and pain Raina felt. I mean it. Every stab, every twist, and every pain she endured because of you.”
“Let me... talk to her... my sister... please,” she whimpered, voice breaking.
I turned away, heading for the door. “You have less than five minutes to catch your breath before it starts again for the next twenty seconds. You will beg for death, but it won't come. Even when it is time to die, the pain will keep you awake. You will never stop feeling it until you draw your last breath.'
Her cries followed me out, but I didn't look back. The door clicked shut, muffling the sobs. Viktor waited in the hall, face impassive. I straightened my jacket, the weight lifting just a fraction.
“Now, to Marco,” I said.