Married to the Mafia Boss

Alessandro

Dom was a force of nature, something to be reckoned with. With a talent for causing chaos, he had been the natural fit for his position in the family.

The go-to guy for anything related to knives, guns, bombs, or just plainly killing.

How he’d gotten Maxim’s mansion rigged so quickly was impressive. He knew exactly where to place his premade explosions for maximum effect.

The explosion created the perfect environment for us to invade, raining bullets on everybody on the property.

The explosion told Maxim his life was ticking down to its final seconds.

The mansion was the perfect environment for revenge. People shouting, to retreat, for mercy, shots firing simultaneously. I walked through it all, heading for rooms with closed doors, looking for Katya.

Carmina Farci, our for-hire assassin, appeared beside me as if by magic. Smiling with her mischievous bright hazel eyes.

“The universe has literally delivered this guy right into your hands, no?” I jogged up the stair to the second floor, and she followed me, gesturing at the violence everywhere. Bullets flying, bodies dropping, weapons clashing. Somewhere close by, we heard Dom laugh maniacally, followed by a loudly shouted prayer. “See? Dom’s always having a good time, and even he is having the best time of his life right now.”

My gun, the same one I’d used in Paulina’s apartment, was silent, loaded, and in my grip. I raised and fired at anybody who tried to interfere with my search as I walked briskly through the mansion, searching for Katya.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

A spectacularly foolish man jumped out from a corner with a knife. I caught the hand holding knife without even paying attention and shot a bullet into his forehead, letting him slump to the ground after letting him go.

“I’m trying to find my wife, Carmina, preferably before I lose my damn mind.”

Carmina laughed, skillfully stepping to the side just as somebody using an opened door for cover started to shoot. He only managed to shoot once before he fell, bleeding from the wounds to his heart and head. She had her double guns out.

“If that was all, then you really should be happier. I’m sure there’s an underground level, your search might be more fruitful there.”

I stopped walking and stared at her. “And how would you know this?”

“Shitheads like Maxim Triev are a staple for assassins like me. I must have broken into a million mansions exactly like this one…some of them were actually better than this, the décor here is absolute trash. I can’t explain why their dicks get hard for dungeons in basements, or why they always keep valuable things there. It’s just one of those things, you know.” A wide smile spread across her small face. “You have fun now, Ales, I have to go get some action before this party of yours ends without me.”

Then she was off, running and firing her semi-automatic handguns down the corridor. “You better save some for me, asshole!” she shouted for Dom, wherever he was.

He must have been somewhere close because he answered, “Not in this life Carmina!”

I retraced my steps and went back down, heading for the underground floor.

Assuming it existed.

If Maxim were half as smart as I gave him credit for, he’d know better than to still be here. Whether he had taken Katya with him as a contingency plan or not, if he was here, he was dead.

What I was banking on was that he would try to escape without taking Katya with him.

Carmina was right about the basement. The door leading to it was wide open, and the corridors were empty. Going deeper into it, the noise of the violence above ground was muffled, and it was possibly the quietest place on the property at the moment.

My phone rang at that moment, as I went to the rooms searching. It was Frankie calling.

“I’ve got eyes on Maxim.”

I paused, my heart pounding. “Katya?”

“No, he doesn’t have her with him.”

Good. I continued walking.

“Take good care of him, Frankie. Show him some Sorvino hospitality. He’s to be our highly esteemed guest.”

I ended the call and continued combing through the rooms and cells, until finally, I found her in a dank grey room.

Katya was alone, and strapped to a table standing against the wall, half naked and terribly bruised.

Like a dying man, I stumbled into the room, something knotting tightly in my chest.

A camera was set up at the front of the room, pointing right at her. The bruises were many, darkly colored, the cuts were deep in some places. There was a stand beside her, displaying many torture tools, none of which were coated with her blood.

Her head lolled forward, and when I reached her, trying to raise her head up gently by her cheeks, her skin was cold. I checked for her pulse. The draft in the underground level was terrible, but still they’d stripped her until she was almost naked.

Maybe they would have taken this all the way.

Whatever they’d done to her, whatever they would have done to her if we hadn’t come in time, made my blood boil, but I could trust my family to act on it for me.

I had Katya again, and I was going to make sure it stayed that way. Taking one of the many knives on the stand, I cut through the straps that bound Katya to the table, and she fell limp on me.

She was bloody and dirty, but I didn’t care, having her in my arms was the greatest feeling, and for a moment, I held her there, just hugging her.

Just telling myself that I’d gotten her back.

That it wasn’t a dream, and she really was with me again.

I hefted her into my arms and carried her bridal style. She was my Kitten, my Katya, my bride.