The devil's lair

ALESSIA 

There was no way that man was a human. He parried all the bullets with ease and dissolved all my attacks like they were reflecting fragments. I couldn't ignore how super fast he was, how he teleported behind me, held my hand, and fired at Lenox. ‘Who the hell is he? What does he want from me?’ 

Terrified by the answers I sought, those questions ravaged my mind.

‘Wait,’ I was caught up in my reverie as the scene replayed in my head. 

While trying to wake up  I felt an excruciating pain in my thigh, briskly snapping me out of the light slumber. “Lenox!” His name slipped out of my mouth like a soft groan, springing up in the bed. 

I looked vaguely around the unfamiliar opulent room, wealth manifested itself through every nook and cranny of the room. 

“Stop moving your leg recklessly, Sia. I'm finally trying to dress your wound here,” I heard Rosetta's voice; her voice was a gentle rain, devoid of malice.

I heaved a sigh of relief. “Lenox… did you get him? Thank God you're here. He came to the warehouse. I was a distraction to him so he got shot in his chest. Have you heard from him? Is he…is he okay?” I ignored the pain, putting my feelings aside, all I needed was an assurance that he was alive.

“I need to quickly dress your wound before he returns. Does it hurt? You should get some rest later,” 

Her reply was a puzzle, with each sentence unrelated. I sensed something strange in her appearance. Her countenance, a combination of fear and concern etching on her features. 

“That’s not what I fucking asked you, Rose. You answer my damn question. Where is this place? Who are you talking about? Where's Lenox?” I snapped, rage flowing relentlessly through my body. 

“Calm down, Sia,” Fidgeted, she kept glancing back at the exit like anyone could burst in and hurt me or her. “I can't explain everything to you. About Lenox I…”

“Is this what you said you needed?” Someone spoke in Russian, he sauntered inside with sovereign grace, an intimidating aura exuding from his body. His face—I had never seen him before.

Wait! I never knew she understood Russian. 

“I’m sorry to bother you. The bandage is enough. I stopped the bleeding.” 

The man handed the new bandage to her anyway. After that he spun around, facing me with bloodlust conspicuous in his eyes.

“The little daemon is finally awake.” 

“Who are you? Who's going on here, Rose?” I asked. The weight of betrayal pressing on my shoulder, I gnawed on my lower lip till I tasted blood. I trusted her. 

We were all family. At least that was what I believed. Truth and loyalty were important. 

“Step outside if you're done.” He ordered.

Rosetta packed everything she used back into the box with trembling hands. She was deliberately avoiding my piercing gaze. 

“Yes,” she rose, attempting to leave but I grabbed her by the wrist.

“So you work for them,” I was hoping she would deny it but she made no attempt to answer.

She reached out, removed my grip around her wrist, and then she exited the room. 

“Here, take this,” the man said in Italian, his words flowing equivocally. He extended a container to me and a glass of water.

I stretched forth my left hand, and instead of taking what he offered, I hit the glass out of his hand; it hit the floor and shattered as the water splashed on the floor. 

“That’s not what I fucking asked you,” I leveled him a killer look. I was still hurt after finding out the one I trusted most was a mole. That explained the drug she gave me. “I don't care who you are. When I ask a question, you fucking answer me!” 

He inclined closer, his face looming in front of mine. He stretched his hand and gripped me by the neck, shoving me back, pinning me against the headboard. I struggled to break free, but he didn't yield; he was insanely strong.

“Do that again and I'll show you how many bones are in your body. I'm really holding back you know,” 

I couldn't breathe. His grip was fucking tight and painful. I felt like my soul was about to drift out of my body. I coughed, forcing myself to breathe. If he was holding back what would it be like if he wasn't?

“Y-you are h-hurting me,” My face turned red, tears trickling down my face.

He slowly released my neck and stood upright before stuffing one of his hands in his pocket. He extended the container. “I guess you'll take it without water,”

Fear, I wanted to protest, but my hand moved on its own without realizing it; I uncapped the container, took out a pill, and shoved it in my mouth. I crushed it with rage before swallowing.

“Where am I?” I asked. He didn't answer. He turned around and started heading out. “You should at least answer me,”

“The truth won't save you from the storm coming your way. You're now in Russia and you'll be spending the rest of your life here.”

Russia? How come?

I was supposed to be in Italy. I wondered how long I'd been out. 

“Martello,” 

He abruptly halted, his head pivoted over his shoulder, his vicious eyes glaring at me. “You dare utter his name. Say it again and you'll be six feet under,” he said, his tone laced with ferocity.

Fear washed over my body like a cold wave. 

“Go easy on her, Dmitri.” 

That deep voice that made my body quiver–it belonged to only him. I looked forward only to see the man that made my blood boil with rage. “You monstrous bastard!” 

Dmitri attempted to retrieve something in his pocket but Martello motioned him out with a short gesture. “Leave us,” 

”Yes, pakhan.” He bowed a little before exiting the room.

Getting closer, I thought he was tall–he was indeed above six feet with beauty radiating from him as if he bathed in it every fucking day; taking a real look at him, I'd never seen anyone as mysteriously beautiful as him. However, darkness was buried behind his gray eyes like polished steel; he exuded an aura of ruthless determination, and his presence in the room commanded attention and inspired fear. I couldn't seem to calm all my nerves. Adrenaline pulsing through my body, my throat constricted.

He looked at the shattered glass on the floor. “I was only gone for four hours and you're already aggressive. For the past two days, I can tell you're only docile when you're unconscious.” He drew a chair close to the bed, sat down, and crossed his legs before gazing at me, his undivided attention fixated on me like I was a prize.

I clenched my fist tightly. “You have a death wish,”

“I do. Only if death can kill me,”

My brow lifted with confusion. “Huh? Why did you bring me here? If you're killing everyone, why are you letting me live?”

“Good question but before I answer that, where's Sergio Markov?”

“How do I know when I just found out he was my boyfriend? Are you planning to kill him too? You killed Carlos,” I gritted my teeth furiously, suppressing my ire.

“Yes, I killed your brother. If only you can recall everything you saw that day,” he paused momentarily. “Sadly, you can't. It was easy to take his identity, faking my death to get close. It only took a few body modifications, I only had to undergo sixty surgeries. Carlos has forty-five tattoos,” He rolled up his black shirt to his elbows to show me my face tattooed on his left hand. 

I pressed my lips together to hold back my tears. “So there was never Carlos; it has been you all along?” he nodded. “You killed my father, then my brother, and you killed Lenox, too. Why?”

He reached out to my face, but I resisted.  I didn't know why I did that but my body didn't want to be touched with his filthy hands. I feared what I saw in his eyes— pain, hatred, and rage.

He smirked. He reached anyway, caressing my earlobe before pinching it hard. I screamed out in pain, a tear escaped my eye. “Knowing the truth can't change anything but revenge can. Can you bring the dead back to life? You owe me more than you can pay, but first, you'll find that bastard for me. Won't you?”

“Drop dead!” I yelled. I'd been trembling ever since he appeared in the room but now I strangely felt confident. I meant that I didn't have anything to lose anymore, he might as well take my life. I'd gladly offer him if he wanted it. 

His eyes darkened. “You’ll find him. Before that, you need to regain your memories within two weeks, little vermin.”

“And if I refuse?”

“You’d die for real. Of course, all my effort will go to waste, which I can't let happen, so if you want to learn the hard way, I'm more than willing to cooperate. You enjoy pain, right?” his cold, calculating eyes peering into my eyes, his cold voice, dripping like a venom. 

I hadn't fully grasped what he said when his hand–no, his sharp nails tugged into my thigh, pressing against my wound. 

“Damn you!” I cussed, screaming my lungs out as I tried to contain the pain but it was intense.

He smirked devilishly, staring at his bloody hand like a hungry animal. Then he licked the blood.“Ahh! This tastes more delectable than I thought.” 

He wasn't human. I was right but whatever he was, I didn't know. I didn't want to find out. All that mattered was a way out of the devil's lair. How could I possibly escape someone as lethally dangerous as him? 

“I’ll kill you,”

“I want to see you try, little vermin.” 

I started feeling dizzy as my head began to spin like a rollercoaster. His phone buzzed in his hand. He answered at once and started speaking in Russian.

“Do we have a lead? So they're not only after my shipments. I guess there's no helping. Send Ivanos, Mikolai, and Ilya, excluding Mustapha, after them. No, that masochist will only create a disaster. No one touches my prey. The organization must have heard that I have Luca’s daughter. Keep me updated, Dmitri.” With that, he ended the call before turning to me.

With the expression on his face, I bet he didn't know I understood everything he said. 

Pedro was a Russian mobster. I frequent his Red House a lot. He barely understood Italian. His English wasn't fluent so he insisted I must learn his language. ‘well, it has started paying off.’

“It seems like I'm not the only one after Luca's daughter. Soon, they'll all come for you, but I'll have to leave my mark on you so they'll know whom you belong to.”

“I’m not an asset anyone can possess. I'll rather die than be near you,”

”Then you'll have to suffer in agony but whether you like it or not, I'm the only one you have left. You can still look at me the same way you've been looking at me ever since you regained from a coma. Like I said, I can be Carlos,” 

“You can never be him,” I snapped at him.

He suddenly shot to his feet and stuffed both hands in his pocket. His countenance switched, vicious and determined. “Change your clothes. We're going out.”