Chapter 182 ONE-HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-TWO

Chapter 182 ONE-HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-TWO


Silence followed as soon as Alexei left them both in the basement. Isabelle let herself look at how badly he had been beaten.

This was the don of Cosa Nostra, and here he was in Russia, tied up in their basement because of her. Emotions almost got to her but she pushed them far away, probably deep into her heart so that she couldn't get to feel them anymore. This was no time to feel pity for the man who orchestrated an attack on her.

She dropped the file she came in with, freeing her hands, she took a step closer to him.

Alessandro swallowed the knot that formed in his throat.

Isabelle.

The only one who could inflict wounds that wouldn't heal.

“Did you ever love me?” he repeated the question he asked earlier, summoning a confronting smirk for her.

She didn't answer. She couldn't.

Isabelle stepped even closer until there was no space between them. Even now, her heart burned at the sight of all the injuries on his skin.

She did all that.

Isabelle had to hold herself from crying. She felt it would make her seem weak. Regardless, she didn't like this new version of herself—the one that associated herself with violence. She detested it.

She was supposed to run away from the mafia lifestyle, start a new life somewhere else and not run back to her predator, but here she was, back into the life and leading it now.

Isabelle reached out and traced a open wound situated close to his neck. The moment her hand touched it, she flinched.

But Alessandro didn't.

He seemed calm and composed throughout the time her palm rubbed against each injury, wiping against the blood on the surface of every one of them.

Alessandro’s gaze didn't move from her. “Tell me it meant something,” he murmured. “Just once.”

Her eyes landed on his arm, on the spot where the bullet grazed him.

Then she remembered—she shot him. She shot her own husband. Her heart felt like it was sinking, and she wanted to drown in it for as long as possible.

When she looked up at Alessandro, she thought she would see an angry scowl or a face that told her that the day he broke free from this, he'll come for her, but she didn't see any of that. Instead, a smile was etched onto his face—one mixed with pride.

“You finally learnt how to pull the trigger right,” he teased, but the display of pride never left his face. “I'm glad I was your first shot.”

What was he saying?

“I didn't do it to impress you,” she finally spoke at last. “I did it because I wanted to.”

“Doesn't matter. You did it, and I love that I'm the first. I'll always be your first.”

Somehow the way he said it did something to her body that she couldn't understand.

“I could put a bullet between your eyes. Then, we'll see how you like that too.”

A dry chuckle erupted from his lips, making her body shudder from the sound of it. “You could kill me right now, and I'll still be so proud of you.”

Her breath hitched. She looked at Alessandro, who was bleeding but definitely unyielding to whatever Alexei wanted from him. His eyes weren't filled with fear at all—just pain, the arrogant aura that meant that he'll be getting out of here somehow and that it'll just be a matter of time… and love. There was love in his eyes.

“You can pull the trigger. Right here. Right now. In my chest. Make sure it goes all the way in so I don't survive from it.”

She took a step back, away from him.

“Do it, Isabelle. Kill me. I've earned it, haven't I?” He studied her for a moment before speaking up again, “If that's the only thing that can get you peace. That can make us even, then I don't want you to hesitate. I'm your monster, and you get to kill the monster whenever you feel like.”

Isabelle swallowed and dropped her eyes.

“You find all these amusing, don't you?” 

“The only thing I feel right now is the pain of not being able to know how you feel.” 

The statement widened her eyes for moment. She was good at looking composed. He would give her that.

“Come here,” he coaxed.

Isabelle didn't want to go, but her legs had other plans. They were taking steps back to him. 

“I want your hand close to mine.”

His hands were tied up and she wondered what he wanted to do. There was no way he had a weapon on him because she personally stripped him of all of them. She stared at him. There was no way of finding out what he wanted if she didn’t do as he asked.

She lowered her hand towards his, angling it in such a way that he could easily wrap a few fingers around her wrist.

Alessandro studied her before encircling his fingers around her wrist. When his thumb grazed her wrist. She shivered, goosebumps rising on her skin. He knew she might be wondering what he was thinking, but he didn't say anything to satisfy that curiosity.

He could feel an erratic rhythm. Accelerated breathing, racing pulse— but it dropped to normal at intervals, trembling—Isabelle showed signs of one who was honestly scared, who was trying so hard to put it all together, keeping up a bold front.

He kept his thumb on her pulse point as he regarded her. Now he knew she didn't like doing this.

He let go of her hands, dropping his.

“What was that?” she inquired, brows pinched up, blending with her confused state.

“I missed the feel of you,” he lied.

She shifted, casting a glance over her shoulder. Then she walked towards where she kept the file she came in with and grabbed it.

“You want me to feel satisfied, right? Want us even?”

Alessandro nodded, not saying a word.

“Then sign the divorce papers, and free me from this sham of a marriage.”

“You know I can't do that. I will do anything but that. Please, Isabelle.”

The way he has been calling her name of recent always seemed to break her resolve in some way. 

She shook her head, disagreeing. “I don't want to stay married to you. I'm married to Alexei now. Let me go.”

“No, I would never. That bastard isn't your husband.”

She searched his face for any signs of him joking, but she didn't find any. And she knew why. Alessandro didn't do jokes, and from the looks of it, he really wasn't going to ever sign the divorce papers.

“I rather stay here and receive punches from those Russian bastards, but I'll never give you up. Even if I die, I'm a jealous man. You can't remarry anyone else. I'll wait for you at the other side, and we'll be together again. You'll always be my forever in every single world that is to come.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “Don't say things like that. Not when you tried to kill me in Newyork. Not when you sent your men after me.”

Alessandro’s body stiffened. What the hell was she talking about?

“Do you now how terrified I was then. They… they killed my neighbour and came after me.” Then Isabelle burst out into tears, unable to control herself anymore. “I can't stay in a marriage that overwhelms me with fear. That everytime I look back, I have the feeling that you're going to kill me next. I can't, and I won't. Which is why you have to sign the papers and let me go.”

“Isabelle,” he started off. “I didn't send anyone to Newyork. I wouldn't dare. Fuck, baby, I didn't even know you were there until Marco figured it out.”

She wiped the tears streaming down her face. He was lying. She couldn't prove it but she felt he was.

“Baby, I swear… I didn't. I would never.”

“You did.”

“I didn't. I was still in Italy, losing my goddamn mind over you. Do you know how that felt? To stay for a year without breathing properly,” he affirmed. Alessandro’s face deepened into a frown. “Someone came at you. Someone came for my wife. I promise you, I'll find whoever that is and I'll kill them. I'll kill them for you.”

She refused to believe him. “You're lying to me again. You sent them.”

“I didn't send anyone, firecracker. Believe me,” he yelled out.  His eyes searched her body. “What did they do to you? Tell me!”

“They didn't…” She broke down again before she could finish the statement. What if Alessandro wasn't lying? What if he was really being honest and it was just some random attack? Maybe from his enemies. Nicholas did say things worked this way in the mafia.

Preying on weaknesses.

Could she be Alessandro’s weakness?

“You didn't?” 

Alessandro shook his head slightly. “I never tried to hurt you no matter how much I wanted revenge. I guess I've loved you even before I realized it.”

“If you love me, then sign the divorce papers.”

“Ask me for something else. Something else that’ll make you happy.”

Isabelle pursed her lips, eyes hardening. “I want the black ledger,” she whispered, almost like she was afraid to say it.”

“The black ledger?”

She raised her chin with all the majesty of a queen. Seems like courage was back. “Yes. The book that holds all Cosa Nostra’s secrets—how many containers you've shipped, how much profit you've made, lawyers and cops you've bribed and all the deadly secrets that could land your entire family in jail. I need it.”

Alessandro could feel himself flaring up. Isabelle never knew about that ledger. No woman in the family had known about it. So how did she get to find out? And how the hell did she know the content?

His heart hammered against his ribs, and he gnashed his teeth in anger.

Alexei.

He was the one pushing the strings. Now, Alexei was using his vulnerable and hurt wife to his advantage.

And worse of it all…

Isabelle didn't even realize it.