154

[ARTEMY]
Had she caused more harm, I would have been there, supporting her. I would have held her hands as she inflicted her cuts.
But this wasn’t her burden to bear.
I understood Rebecca. Pulling the trigger had demanded every ounce of her strength and hatred. Yet, the act of killing, that wasn’t the essence of my angel.
“Allow me to be your monster. Permit me to kill on your behalf, my angel.”
No words had rung truer than those. Each word was a vow. I was hers. I would take life for her. It was a promise, one I had fulfilled before, was carrying out now, and would continue to fulfill in the future.
“Proceed as necessary.”
A smile curled my lips as her words echoed in my mind.
Yes, Rebecca, I was prepared to unleash my darkest side.
After all, my queen had issued her command, and I was bound to fulfill her desires.
Returning to reality, I observed Brayden taking his turn on Raffaele. Strikes rained down punches, kicks, slices. Raffaele’s form, once recognizable, now bore the marks of brutality.
The stench of blood was thick, but I had grown accustomed to its presence.
Raising my hand, I signaled for Brayden to cease his assault. He panted heavily, his gaze fixed with intensity on Artemy.
“Leon, bring Dalton and Milandro. It’s time for a family reunion,” I declared with an eerie calmness. Sometimes, tranquility masked the impending danger.
Leon’s features twisted with seething animosity at the mere mention of Milandro.
Raffaele slumped against his restraints, teetering on the edge of collapse. Our journey was far from over.
My attention shifted to the entrance as Leon dragged in the battered forms of Dalton and Milandro. He positioned them before Raffaele. Stepping forward, they fell to their knees, bowing before me.
Their fear hung palpably in the air, almost tangible. It fueled the monstrous hunger within me.
With deliberate slowness, I donned latex gloves from my pocket. Their terror-laden eyes remained fixated on me as I methodically prepared.
Gripping the cutter tightly, I lowered myself to face Milandro. He had been one of my trusted men.
I had extended my sanctuary to him, offering my name. In return, he had shown no reverence. Loyalty was a concept lost on him.
Brayden’s anguish was palpable as he gripped his own hair and yanked his head backward. The pained whimpers escaped his lips as I worked to pry his clenched jaw apart. His body shuddered and contorted in a desperate attempt to break free from my grasp.
The inevitability of the situation hung in the air; Brayden understood what was in store for him. However, evasion was an impossibility this time around.
With an exertion of force, Brayden propelled Milandro to the ground, the latter now writhing in a frenzied bid for survival. I maintained an unyielding grip on Milandro’s jaw, my fingers digging into his cheeks with a vise-like hold.
Fists pounded against the floor in a futile effort to dislodge my iron grip, but all efforts to escape were in vain.
A glint caught Milandro’s terrified gaze as I presented the cutter, its menacing presence inches from his face. Encouraged by Brayden, Milandro reluctantly allowed his mouth to be forced open. Strangled gurgles escaped his throat as he tried to vocalize his distress, to no avail. My fingers seized his quivering tongue, pressing down with unrelenting force.
Dread widened Milandro’s eyes as the blade drew nearer to his helpless tongue. Despite his attempts to shake his head in denial, a knowing smile played upon my lips.
His silent pleas were vivid, a desperate last-ditch effort etched in his eyes.
Yet, time had run its course.
The suffering inflicted on My Angel remained unaddressed, and now the tables had irrevocably turned.
The cutter poised menacingly at his tongue, I tilted my head, the seconds ticking away in deliberate rhythm.
Milandro regarded me with suspicion, his initial alarm shifting to confusion as I withheld action.
Waiting persisted, unyielding.
Then, his struggles subsided, surrendering to silence.
As the tension in his muscles eased, vulnerability replaced defiance.
And then, I acted.
A singular incision, and his severed tongue rested in my hand, a grotesque relic of his former self.
Standing upright, I observed Milandro’s writhing form on the ground, his torment unbearable.
From his tortured throat, a cacophony of screams, wails, cries, and sobs arose.
And my lips curled into a malevolent grin.
“Excessive chatter led you down this path. An end to your words was my choice. Fair, wouldn’t you say?” The question slipped casually from my lips as I displayed the severed organ, a morbid spectacle for all to witness.
Dalton’s visage contorted in horror, pallor washing over his features, while Raffaele’s constitution seemed on the verge of collapse. Their vulnerability was a source of amusement to me, a testament to their frailty.
Leon extended a plastic bag to me, and with a cold detachment, I deposited the dismembered tongue within. The bag’s seal was secured, and I tossed it toward Milandro. “There you have it-your tongue. Who knows? You might find it useful.”
Clutching the bag to his chest, blood dribbling from his mouth, Milandro’s misery knew no bounds.
Turning my attention to Dalton, I was met with his horrified gaze, his features ashen. An attempt to flee was promptly thwarted by Leon’s firm restraint.
“No escape for you,” I hissed, drawing to a halt before Dalton.
A swift kick met his abdomen, a sickening crack accompanying the fracture of ribs. Agonized howls filled the air.
Yet, this is just the beginning.
With a nod directed at Brayden, I approached Dalton, and with a firm grip, I pulled down his pants, igniting a vehement reaction. Dalton’s desperate screams reverberated through the air, his struggle for freedom intense.
“Please… no… no,” his pleas echoed, falling upon deaf ears, their significance lost on me.
I firmly grasped his organ, a cruel chuckle escaping me as his screams intensified. The cold touch of the cutter against his flesh prompted another shrill cry. Yet, I refrained from making a cut, merely allowing him to experience the chilling presence of the blade.
“Please…” his plea resonated again.
“Each plea you utter brings to mind Rebecca and the way she pleaded with you. It fans the flames of my anger. So, perhaps it’s wiser if you desist from begging,” I hissed, applying slightly more pressure with the cutter.
Dalton’s head bobbed in agreement, his voice choked by sobs as his body quivered uncontrollably.
“Silence was my expectation, not speech. Now, my irritation grows,” I retorted sharply, preempting any opportunity for him to plead again.
Swiftly, the cutter’s edge sliced through his anatomy, severing it from his body. I stood erect, a spectator to his agony. His body writhed in torment, the room echoing with his agonized screams.
Observing his convulsions, I nonchalantly tossed his detached organ back at him. Milandro’s screams had abated, replaced by pitiful sobs and moans, as he endured his excruciating ordeal.
“Ensure they do not succumb to their wounds,” I commanded in a tone dripping with menace, even resonating harshly in my own ears.
Shifting my gaze to Raffaele, I confronted his pallid countenance, the hue of his skin akin to that of a specter. His head hung limp against the chair, betraying a profound lack of strength.
“The previous act served as a warning-a mere glimpse into the impending future awaiting you. Preparation, though sought, proves futile against the tide that approaches,” I declared with finality, leaving those words to linger as I exited the basement.
My return was inevitable. Imminent.
However, my focus shifted. It was time to reunite with my Angel.
The thought calmed the tempest raging within me. The agony, the rage-all dissipated into a soothing tranquility.
Ascending the stairs, I made my way to my office. After cleansing myself and donning fresh attire, I entered the piano room.
My steps wavered, my pulse quickening upon discovering the room’s dimness.
As I ventured toward our bedroom, the tightness in my chest grew. The door opened, revealing a scene cast in darkness, save for the gentle glow of a solitary lamp.
Scanning the room, my eyes alighted upon her figure. There she lay, upon the bed, ensnared in slumber.
Relief surged through me as I shut the door behind me. Drawing nearer to the bed, I gazed upon my slumbering Angel, her beauty a mesmerizing sight.
Her brows knitted, betraying the unrest that tainted her sleep. I tenderly traced a finger over the lines of worry, seeking to smooth them away.
Sliding into the bed, I drew her close, my embrace providing solace. My hands traced gentle circles over the swell of her belly.
Rebecca stirred, moaning softly in her sleep as she shifted in my arms. Her fatigue must have been profound, for she hadn’t waited for me in the piano room.
“Artemy,” her drowsy voice reached me, accompanied by the gesture of rubbing her eyes.
My lips met her forehead in a tender kiss. “I’m here. Rest, my love.”
“Hmm…”
Nestled in my embrace, she succumbed to slumber once more, and a sense of tranquility enveloped us both.
I remained wide awake, my mind relentlessly resisting the urge to shut down. After several hours of cradling Rebecca, I gently pulled away from her. Before slipping out of the room, I pressed a tender kiss to her lips.
In mere moments, I found myself back in the basement. Milandro and Dalton were both reclining against the wall, while Raffaele remained seated on the chair. As I entered the room, my gaze met his, but I refrained from drawing any closer.
I chose to wait. There was someone else yet to join our gathering.
Leon and Brayden leaned casually against the wall, while Avim paced the floor with pent-up energy. An expectant silence enveloped us as we stood in anticipation.
Then, the door swung open.
The resonating click of heels resounded through the hushed basement. A soft chuckle escaped me as I sensed her presence at my side. She sported her customary attire – black leather pants and jacket. However, her heels always bore a different look.
This time, her choice was dark pink.
I turned my head to catch her lowering her hood. Bernadette’s smile was aimed at Raffaele, and her playful words cut through the air. “Hello, love. Did you miss me?”
Raffaele stared at her, his astonishment mingled with a simmering resentment. This was a secret shared only between Bernadette and me, concealed even from Milandro. I had positioned her as an undercover operative in one of the clubs, infiltrating Raffaele’s world. She had drawn close to him, posing as the perfect accomplice.
It required a tremendous amount of strength for Bernadette to submit to a man like Raffaele, but her allegiance to me remained unwavering.
Bernadette stepped forward, and I observed the scene unfolding before me. Yet, I sensed another presence at my back. Swiftly turning around, I confronted the unfamiliar figure behind me.
He was youthful, perhaps in his early twenties. A lengthy scar marred his face, bearing a resemblance to Avim’s own scar. Another mark adorned his neck.
His intense gaze was solely fixed upon Bernadette, prompting my curiosity to rise. An arched eyebrow silently communicated my question.
“He’s under my wing,” Bernadette declared, preempting any inquiry on my part.
With a snap of her fingers, she beckoned him forward. The young man obediently moved to her side, almost resembling a devoted canine. Despite her high heels, he towered over her, his gaze seeking her approval.