Unveiled: Chapter 8

The dank, dimly lit room reeks of blood and fear. It took me all but five minutes to decide that the first guy Maximo dragged in here didn’t know shit, which meant I had no use for him. Hence, his corpse is propped up against the wall, his head hanging eerily to the side with a bullet wound through his chin, up his ugly goddamn face, and out the top of his skull.

Caelian repeatedly flicks the top of his Zippo as he stares at the dead body. “I can officially say that the wall has more brains than this motherfucker.” He snickers at his own wise-ass joke.

I turn to face Alexius. “Is he for real?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Hey,” Caelian snaps. “One of us has to have a sense of humor around here. Imagine if all of us were pitch-black-hearted assholes like you two.”

“Says the one who hunts women for a sport,” I bite back.

“Con-sen-sual,” he enunciates. “Not that you’ll know what it means.”

“Can we just get back to killing?” All three of us turn to face Isaia, who’s been spectating in the back corner of the room.

Alexius takes a long drag of his cigarette, not caring that some strands of his black hair fall over his eyes. It’s been a hot fucking minute since my twin joined one of these torture shows in our pursuit to extract information. But after our minor altercation that Caelian intercepted to point out that we’re both being dicks, I’ve been including Alexius in my plans, and he’s been kind enough not to be up my ass about every fucking thing I do.

Maximo hauls my next target and perhaps victim through the doorway by their shirt collar, a snarl of revulsion lacing his features. The man’s eyes bulge out of his skull when he sees his friend’s corpse, an animalistic rage coursing through him as he unleashes a flurry of kicks and curses. “You bastards! Let me go!”

“Your name is Joel, right? Like the Bible’s Joel?”

“Screw you,” he seethes, the veins at his temples pulsing with rage.

“That’s not a very biblical thing to say,” I taunt.

“Let me go.”

“Tell me what I want to know, Joel, and I just might.”

“Bullshit. You and I both know I’m about to end up like him,” he spits out, nodding toward the corpse.

“Then why the fuck are you demanding we let you go if you already know there’s no chance in hell we’ll do that?”

“Fuckers!”

Maximo slams a fist into his side, and Joel hunches forward as Maximo yanks his hands up above his head and fastens his wrists to the chain dangling from the ceiling.

“Okay,” I sigh, pulling a hand through my hair. “Let’s see if you’ll sing. Tell me where Nunzio is,” I growl, my voice gravelly and low, as I walk up close to him. His eyes dart between me and the array of tools laid out on the table behind me, his fate lying among the cold steel instruments.

“Fuck you,” he grits out, defiance flickering in his eyes even as his body trembles.

“Wrong answer.” My fist connects with his jaw in a swift, brutal motion, pain shooting up my arm as the satisfying crunch echoes through the room. “Let’s try that again. Where is Nunzio?” I snarl, watching blood dribble down his chin from the fresh wound, the chains complaining as he sways back and forth from the blow.

He spits a mouthful of blood before latching his dark brown gaze onto mine. “How many of us have you killed?”

“If by us, you mean Nunzio’s bitches, I’ve lost count.”

“Then you can’t be very bright, can you?” He smirks, blood staining his teeth. “Because if you were, you’d realize by now that none of us fucking know where he is.”

I narrow my eyes, studying him as I would a predator sizing up its prey. “I’m struggling to decide if I should just kill you quickly like I did your friend here or if I should make it last until you beg me to tear out your heart.”

“No one knows where he is, man. Do you really think Nunzio is that stupid, telling us all where he’s hiding when he knows the goddamn Dark Sovereign is searching for him?”

“It won’t be the first time he’s done something stupid, the first time being kidnapping my wife,” I hiss, grabbing a pair of pliers from the table, the steel cold and weighted in my palm.

He swallows hard, his throat bobbing as his gaze drops from mine to the floor. “I swear, man. I don’t know fucking anything.”

“Let’s see if your fingers have a better memory than your tongue,” I taunt, reaching up and grabbing his pinky finger firmly, clamping the pliers around it. The metal bites into his flesh as I twist, and his piercing scream follows the sickening snap of bone. Am I the devil for loving the sound of his choked sobs, finding pleasure in the way his face contorts in agony? Perhaps.

I glance at his severed pinky rolling across the floor and leaving a trail of blood behind it while my darkened soul relishes the broken cries that tear from Joel’s throat. A sheen of sweat instantly erupts across his face, covered in lines of pain.

“Talk,” I demand when his cries subside, replaced with ragged breaths and gargled noise.

“Fuck…you.” His voice is nothing but whispered agony as tears and snot drip down his chin.

I lean in close, smelling the pain and desperation in his breath. “We both know you’re either going to talk or die, perhaps even both.”

He grits his teeth before reluctantly speaking up again, sweat dripping down his forehead as he does so. “All we know is…it’s just some rumors about his whereabouts, most likely fake because this whole town is abuzz with this shit.”

“What’s the rumors?”

He stares at me, breaths coming out labored.

“I don’t have time for this shit,” I mutter. Without a single goddamn thought, I grab the knife off the table, and with a sweep of my arm, I slice the blade across his cheek, and he hisses as blood gushes from the open wound.

I don’t wait for him to talk, and I barely contain the rage as I grab a handful of salt from a nearby container before slapping it on the open wound on his cheek, reveling in the way he screams out in so much agony, I’m sure his fucking soul just left his body.

“Please! Stop!” he begs, tears streaming down his face as he struggles against his binds.

“Then give me what I want,” I insist, my heart pounding with anticipation. “Tell me where Nunzio is hiding.”

Caelian chuckles. “I told you that salt would come in handy.”

I glare at him with warning before rubbing my palm harder against Joel’s cheek, getting each grain of salt into his open flesh.

Through groans and cries, Joel stutters, “Bria…Briana.”

“Where is Briana?” Caelian asks with a giant question mark on his forehead.

“Not where. Who,” he says as he cringes, pressing his eyes tightly closed as he struggles through the pain. “Rumor is she’s the one he’s staying with. I don’t know where. I swear to God.”

My gaze shoots to Maximo with a silent demand, and he nods before storming out.

“Good,” I say, my voice cold and devoid of emotion. “You can die now.” I thrust the knife savagely into his neck, feeling fire race through my veins as a shudder courses through his body. His eyes pop wide open in shock before the life evaporates from him, the chains rattling one last time like a funeral bell before falling silent.

I turn away, my chest heaving as I take a few deep breaths to calm myself. My body aches from the exertion, but there’s no time to rest. With each interrogation more brutal than the last, my soul grows darker, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay for Mira.

“Finally, we’re one step closer,” I mutter. “We find Briana, we find him.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Alexius says behind me. “Like Joel said, it’s only a rumor.”

“It’s all we got, brother. How about some positive attitude, hey? If this Briana exists, Maximo will have her before the sun sets tonight, guaranteed.” I have all the faith in the world in my brother-in-law’s ability to find this woman. Like me, Maximo is fueled by his need to get his hands on Nunzio.

Alexius crosses his arms. “And how are you going to make her talk?”

I light myself a cigarette, inhaling deep, letting the poison reach the farthest corner of my lungs before exhaling and glancing at the dangling corpse. “The same way I made him talk.”

As I leave the room, the echoes of their screams linger in the air, a chilling reminder of what I’ve done and the monster I’ve become in the name of revenge. But the end is near, and soon Nunzio will know the depths of my wrath.

MIRA

My heart is pounding like a wild animal in my chest, and I feel sweat beading on my forehead. I’m pacing the room, agitatedly rubbing my palms together until they burn with friction. Suddenly, the putter of a car engine rumbles through the silence. I look out the window, petrified, as a vehicle turns into the driveway. “He’s here,” I whisper, feeling bile rising up my throat.

“You need to relax,” Leandra says, and I glance at her sitting on the velvet chaise across the room. She offers me a faint smile. “This will be over before you know it.”

My eyes dart around the small room, stopping at the various monitors and machines lining every surface. I’m overwhelmed by the sheer amount of medical equipment piled up in every corner.

With a trembling voice, I ask her, “Doesn’t it disturb you that your husband has an entire hospital within this one tiny room?”

Leandra smirks before replying, “He was determined to be prepared for everything while I was pregnant. And after the twins were born, he thought it would be wise to keep all of this here.”

“Alexius likes to be prepared for any and every scenario, it seems.”

“He’s…ah.” She smiles. “He’s cautious.”

“You know your husband is going to freak the fuck out if he finds out the doctor is here to see you. Well, me. But the doctor thinks he’s coming to see you, which means it won’t be long before it reaches Alexius, and he comes charging in here like a—”

“Mira,” Leandra interrupts. “Take a breath. Everything is going to be okay.”

“I just…I need to make sure.”

“Of course you do. And we’ll deal with it no matter what happens or whatever the outcome. Okay?”

My fists clench together with white knuckles, and my fingernails dig sharply into my palms. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve gone over the whole pregnancy thing in my head, driving myself crazy with possibilities of what might happen once the doctor walks in here. “Okay.”

I press my lips together, feeling the nerves and fear claw at my chest. “There’s something else I didn’t tell you.”

“What is it?” Her eyes glimmer with concern.

“Nunzio knows.”

“Knows what?”

I swallow, and it’s like razor blades going down my throat. “Yesterday. There was a note inside the bag with the pregnancy test.”

“A note?”

“Is it mine?” I breathe softly, as if not saying the words too loud would make it less terrifying. “That’s what the note said. ‘Is it mine?’”

“Oh, dear God.” She places a hand in front of her mouth, shock weaved across her expression.

“He knows, Leandra. He knows I ordered the pregnancy test, and the only thing I can think of is that he has my phone tapped or something.”

“Mira, you have to tell Nicoli. You have to tell him now.”

“I know. And I will. I just…I need to do this first.”

“This is dangerous, Mira.”

“I know that. And I swear I will tell Nicoli as soon as we’re done here.”

The door opens, and the doctor walks in, both Leandra and I snapping our attention toward him. It’s not the same doctor who treated me after Nicoli found me in the forest, and I wonder if he knows about it all, if all the Dark Sovereign doctors get briefed on whatever happens to whoever in this family.

Knowing the ranks in this house, he greets Leandra first. “Mrs. Del Rossa.”

“Hello, Doctor.”

He pushes his glasses higher up his nose as he sets down his briefcase. “You think you might be pregnant again?”

Leandra’s gaze cuts from him to me and back to him. “Not me, Doctor,” she says, and immediately, his attention shifts to me, staring at me, unblinking.

“Oh. The other Mrs. Del Rossa.”

Leandra stares at the doctor, her expression tight and unyielding. “Doctor,” she begins slowly, emphasizing each word with a measured tone, “this is a delicate matter, and I must insist on your discretion.”

A palpable sense of dread settles over his dark brows. “Mrs. Del Rossa, you are well aware of my position regarding your husband and this family.”

“I know that you are obliged to tell Alexius everything. All I’m asking is that whatever happens here today, you’ll guarantee your silence for at least a few hours. Just while we figure everything out.”

“Leandra,” I say, but keep my eyes pinned on the doctor. “I’ve got it from here.”

Leandra frowns, but she doesn’t question me. That’s one of the many things I appreciate about her; she’s not pushy like the rest of this family. She respects boundaries and privacy.

She nods lightly before opening the door. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

The doctor’s gaze is fixed on me as Leandra shuts the door behind her, the creases on his forehead deepening with worry. “Nicoli doesn’t know, does he?”

My throat convulses, and my stomach lurches as I take a step forward, fingers twitching and tightening into gnarled knots. “I’m afraid not.”

“May I ask why?”

“Because if I’m pregnant…there’s a chance the baby might not be his.”