Chapter 5

“How do you even know where my basement is?” Sol asked as we made our way towards his basement.

“You know I know everything, fratello.” I smirked mischievously at him.

He stopped walking and turned to me, making me stop as well. “What are you up to, sorella? What is this that you want to talk about?”

My smirk immediately fell, replaced with solemnity. “You’ll see.” I replied as I started walking again and he followed suit until we finally arrived in his basement.

The room was dark and I did not intend to switch the light on. I let the moonlight do its work. Franco stood at the corner, waiting for my orders. And in the middle of the room, Dylan Ross sat on the chair with his hands finally tied behind his back. His head bent to his front. He was consciously on and off from all the beatings I did to him back at his apartment.

“Sorella…” Sol began. “Explain.” He spoke calmly but there was curiosity and hint of firmness behind it as he watched the man in question in the center of the room with a straight face.

“A few nights ago, my shipment which was on its way to its destination, suddenly disappeared from our radar. Lost and undetected. It appears that someone hacked into our system and deliberately redirected the vessel filled with weaponries and drugs worth millions of dollars. Let me rephrase that- billion, fratello.”

Sol’s face darkened at my revelation. “And exactly why am I put into this picture? Is this why you called after so long?”

I knew he was thinking about my mentioning to him about something that was stolen. 

I chuckled. “I inquired about the same thing, fratello mio.” He frowned inquisitively at me. “Lo and behold, this man here is called Link, the hacker himself, the one who redirected the vessel’s destination and pulled it out of our radar.” His frown deepened. “A man like him wouldn’t dare solely steal from a renowned mafia, don’t you think?”

“Let me guess…” He said, already getting the idea of the turn of events after the hint of my phone call.

“Your guess is right, fratello.” I sauntered towards our star of the night. I stood to his side as I looked at my cousin. “He said the one who ordered him to do it… was Sol.”

“Oh?” He asked with a threatening smile. He was amused that this man would even dare.

“Oh, my cugino, I hope you will enjoy my small gift. You’re a family man now but I know deep inside, you’re still itching for that action.” 

Sol resisted widening his smirk before walking towards us and stopped in front of the man. I grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced him to look at the former don of the Di Angelo family.

“Open your eyes and take a good fucking look, Dylan Ross.” I whispered in his ear. He winced at the pain my hand brought to his scalp. “You are in front of the man who owned the name you uttered. My cousin. My brother. The King of the Mafia.” 

He gasped as my grip tightened. His eyes watered, fear plastered all over his once attractive face and eyes.

“You still dare lie to me? I will give him the pleasure of ripping your soul out of your body.” He groaned before I withdrew my grip. “Franco.”

Franco immediately walked towards us with a knife in his hand. He handed it to Sol and went back to his post. Sol gladly accepted the knife.

“His face is off limits, fratello.” He raised a brow inquisitively. I smirked in response. “I have plans.”

I leaned down again and pressed my mouth against his ear. “You will know how my favorite color is white.” He then screamed in pain as Sol stabbed the knife to his thigh. Tears finally fell down his closed eyes.

“Come on, tesoro. Speak. It will help you escape my fratello’s wrath.” I chuckled despite the gravity of my words.

“I…” He grunted and screamed as I drove the knife deeper.

“I what?” My lips, still on his ear. He screamed again as Sol punched his gut. I chuckled. “What makes you not speak, tesoro mio?”

“You’ve beaten him up before coming here. Of course, he’d be exhausted.” Sol answered, resisting a smile.

I then let him go and stood straight. “Well, then… I guess the floor is all yours, Sol.”

“I admit though. I feel as if I’m losing my touch. I find this not as enjoyable as before.” A small smile leaked from my lips. “I suggest you speak now, ragazzo. Torture is Cara’s most favorite sport. You’ll regret not talking.”

He then pulled the knife out of his thigh… slowly. Dylan Ross groaned again in pain.

“I’m impressed. He holds omerta very well.”

Sol scoffs. “Look at him. It’s obvious he doesn’t belong to the mafia.”

“And yet he knows your name, fratello. It’s such a wonder.” I spoke calmly. I stepped to his front as I looked at him trying to lift his head to look at us. “You know the guy standing in the corner of this room.” His eyes weakly traveled to Franco. “His name is Franco as you have heard me speak his name many times. He's the best tracker. The best of the best. He finds anything and everything I want him to find.”

I leaned down to level his sight. “But I’d rather enjoy this moment torturing you.”

I grabbed his wounded thigh and pressed my thumb on his bleeding wound. He screamed and shivered in pain and agony. “Speak!”

“Who ordered you to do it?” Sol asked, grabbing his chin to lift his head up, forcing him to look at him while my thumb steady on his wound. “Who taught you about my name?” He growled.

Dylan Ross was tougher than we thought. He endured every pain and tortured we’ve given him. Though I love to torture him physically until he’d rather choose death, I still got plans up my sleeve. It would be a waste not to use it. 

“Would you do the honor, fratello?” We both let go and stood. 

“I’m a changed man now, sorella.” His smile was playful as he handed me the knife that still had the guy’s blood. 

“Suit yourself.” I stabbed the previous wound again and dragged it to extend the slit. He grunted before falling to his consciousness. 

“So much for the extraction of information.” He paused while staring at me for a while. He noticed my tiny smirk. “You know something, don’t you?”

“It wouldn’t be fun if I told you, would it?”

“You have not changed a single bit, Cara Luna.” He shook his head in amusement.