Chapter 56

I took care of those I cared for, and never in such a way. It was always from afar while moving pieces for their future, for their safety.

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't utter a word.

Pulling her bottom higher, I buckled my pants and opened the door. I tried not to embrace what I was doing. How was I going to carry her up as a lover would? Instead I focused on staying steady and maneuvering her body and legs around my sides.

When I took the first step onto the stone entry, her hand wrapped against my neck and her fingernails curled behind my head. Slow and tender, her fingers thanked me, and I clenched my jaw to the shudder that crept.

I wrestled between asking her to stop and giving her what she needed. I didn't want to fight. I didn't want to talk. Not now, so for this moment, I let her win.

The front door opened wide, and my gaze snapped over to my brother, who kept Wix and Vine by his side. Nate's hair was a mess, and his face was without color. Stony blue eyes held mine in chaos, then fell onto her. He could only see the back of her hair, and his lips curled by not confirming what he'd seen on the screen. While he didn't have eyes inside the bathroom, Nate had watched every step we took out of the manor.

Nate's attention bounced back to me, and I raised my hand.

Soon.

A quick nod agreed, but his eyes watched her hand placement over me for a moment longer. He then pulled the door further open for me.

I left him behind and headed up the stairs with the mutts in tow.

"Myjesto," I ordered them to stay by the bedroom door in Russian. Wix automatically listened, while Vine hesitated, but finally obeyed with a loud groan.

I set the lights in the room the way she preferred them, a low glimmer, and continued toward the bathroom. With her limbs wrapped around me, I pulled the shower door open and adjusted the water temperature.

A bath would've settled her aching body better, but I didn't want her to soak in his blood. I wanted it off her skin and drained into the pipes and down the sewer along with the rest of the filth of this city.

Alessandra's legs loosened, and her arms unraveled from around my neck. I held her waist as she steadied her feet, and when my gaze lifted, I tensed.

Her face had deteriorated since the short time I'd last seen it. Her neck had deepened in dark hues of purples and furious red prints. Black outlines took over the edge of her left eye as it swelled, creasing the heavy temples near shut. The corner of her brow was smudged with dried blood from a gash, and her lips stayed parted.

Alessandra turned her back on me and slipped the thin fabric of her dress off her shoulders. I didn't see a zipper I could help lower, and her ass wouldn't allow the slim textile on her waist to fall by itself.

The only way she could remove it was by lifting it over her head. Alessandra tugged down, not even attempting to raise her arms to pull.

"Let me." I touched her arm, and she relaxed in consent.

I stepped closer. Feeling her warmth, I caged her body in with my hands low on her hips until I felt the ripped slit of her dress. Fisting my hand tightly with fabric, I pulled it apart, tearing it in quick jerks until she was bare.

Quietly, Alessandra entered the shower, shutting the glass door and the vision of her bruised body into a rotting memory.

Fuck.

I left the bathroom and kept the door cracked enough to hear, but I couldn't tolerate the wrath, the ire that pricked my fingers, the rage to set loose the demon. I wasn't meant to care, to nurture wounds, or take away pain. I did the opposite.

Wix and Vine didn't follow as I stepped out of the room.

My footfalls mixed with another pair that neared, and when I passed the last picture frame, Nate came into view. A glass bottle of water in one hand, and a few other objects in the other.

His eyes peered behind me, seeing the bedroom door ajar along with the sound of running water, and when he spoke, he chose Russian.

"??? ? ????????" Is sheokay? his native tongue fired.

I transitioned to the language and spoke back in Russian knowing our conversation would remain safe that way.

"Da."

"I thought you might need this."

Nate offered me the contents in his hands. I had bandages and a first aid kit under the sink, but he'd brought the medicated ointment I would need. It was made in Russia, and Nate had introduced it to us when he was old enough to afford smuggling it into the States. It wasn't regulated by the standards of this country. Too strong and dangerous they'd once labeled it, and yet it had healed many wounds. We mainly used it on others, too stubborn to accelerate the ease of pain. But I couldn't tolerate her pain. Not in this way.

I took the chilled water, ointment, a pill, and the gentle cleaning shit he offered with a silent thank you.

"What did you see?"

"I went through everything. They slipped inside and camped for hours."

"They?"

"Yes. Three men in total. They covered the three bathrooms on the main floor."

I shook my head.

"One of those was filled with women."

"They would've waited for the right time."

Nate's eyes lowered, and his mouth curled with disgust. When he looked back at me, he said, "When I hacked into their surveillance, they'd already infiltrated the gala. I didn't get access to the previous footage until it was too late."

Nate was a perfectionist. Nothing he did was easily obtained, and he worked carefully. Something slipping from his fingers was rare, almost impossible. He placed blame on himself for what had happened, but knowing him, it had been out of his power. Nate had been behind a computer, while I had been feet away from the bastard.

"It won't happen again."

I believed him because Nate would always strive for perfection.

"I know, brat." Brother.

The water stopped running, and I took it as time for my return.

"Oh, Massimo."

I glanced back.

"Elio caught one of them."

I smiled with the promise of pacifying an inch of my bloodthirst. "Tell him to take him to the warehouse by the canal. I'll meet you there."

I shut the door behind me, placed the water bottle and small pill next to her side table, and turned.

Alessandra stood tall with a towel wrapped around her. The shower awakened her spirit after adrenaline had extinguished it. It also allowed me to see her features more clearly without the remains of him.

The superficial wounds would heal in a few days, but the degenerate need to punish wouldn't until I made those who touched what was mine pay.

Her eyes questioned the items in my hands, and her brow furrowed.

I tossed the rest onto the bed and straightened.

Alessandra's spirit fell.

"You're leaving."

"I am," I agreed. "You should use the ointment before resting."

I turned to leave. One step too short because her hand held me tightly from moving farther away. I lowered my head and spun to glance down at her.

She didn't say a word. Didn't ask for me to stay. She couldn't. Not again. Her hand weakened, releasing her hold but still waiting.

Big green eyes stared at me, holding me still as did the silence between us.

"Take the pill," I ordered.

She didn't hesitate, she simply did what I asked.

"Now put on the ointment."

This time, she held my gaze for a minute too long.

The knowledge of failing to protect and keep her safe weighed deeply inside.

In the dim light and silent request, I shed out of my clothes and her eyes grew. Quickly she snatched the rectangle box off the table and hurried inside the bathroom.

I tossed my soiled clothing on a nearby chaise while walking to my side of the bed. I pulled the covers and the top sheet down and picked up my phone.

I'll be there in fifteen.

My latest text read, and I clicked it back off when I felt her presence.

Quietly, her footfalls tumbled one after another and her silhouette neared the bed.

I lay down. She dropped her towel and slipped next to me. She didn't move closer or utter a word. I slid the cover over her body before staring at the globes of faded light above with one hand behind my head.

Waiting.

Fifteen minutes, Elio had promised.

Alessandra struggled to get comfortable, but if she lay still instead of fighting the pill she'd taken to do its job, sleep would claim her.

She turned in my direction, and I knew what was coming next. Almost anticipating it.

Alessandra's hand seeking out my body.

I didn't tense, I accepted it in the darkness for the short few minutes I would allow it.

"Massimo?" her sweet Italian accent called me.

"Hm"

"If I asked you for something, would you see it through?" The Italian rolled off her lips.

Her eyes were closed, her breathing steady, and her cracked lip faced the shadows.

I pondered over her question and removed my gaze from her face, at what I had done.

And while Alessandra could ask for many things, I knew after staring into her vacant irises and blood-covered body that this promise wouldn't be easy to see through.

Even then, I warned in our tongue. "Yes, so be careful what you ask of me next."

She moved closer to me, placing her head against my side.

Groggily, her Italian wrestled slumber as it uttered, "Good. Because I don't just want Giuliani dead. I want California to fall."

While Alessandra slipped into stupor, I lay still in the silence, moving pieces in my head, working my mind in riddles of destruction. Loopholes that could swift through minuscule windows but caused madness-hysteria.

And I was a master of it.

But for now, I had one loose end to handle. And after taking one last look at her sleeping body, I abandoned her warmth and dressed in all black.

Wix and Vine sat attentive. I opened the door and gestured for them to go to her, then closed the door behind them.

I had things to see through.

I tookeach step eagerly down the trail to the abandoned warehouse, itching to get my hands dirty. Thirsty for red. My demon was loose, and my soul was gone. All I wanted was punishment.

Clouds rolled over the moon and the night hid me in its darkness. Dew spread through the still canal, rolling in a thick blanket of malice, matching the cruel thoughts in my head.

Leaving the eerie silence behind, I stepped inside the wet and rusted metal building.

Old fishing nets and broken boat parts scattered throughout the building on the cracked floor. The smell of motor oil and gasoline lingered even after years of vacancy. The only thing that stood out was the concrete block room at the end we'd built.

Elio, Nate, and Vadim quieted down as they heard my heavy footsteps near. They were waiting by the closed door that trapped the future dead.

They all stood, alert.

"You don't need to stay, Vadim."

I offered him the option, but with crossed arms and displeasure marking his features, he shook his head.

"Your choice." I looked away from him and turned to Elio.

"Where?" I asked.