Bound by Hatred (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles #3)(12)

I helped Gianna up the stairs, and pretty much carried her down the corridor toward one of the guest bedrooms. I really wanted to take her to the room I slept in when we were in the mansion but I didn’t want to have a f*cking fight, not until Gianna was fit enough to be an equal contestant. She lied down on the bed, and closed her eyes with a groan.

I bent over her. “I want to take a look at your ribs. Don’t punch me.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and the hint of a smile tugged at her lips. I wondered if it was because she had a concussion or if she’d finally come to terms with our impending marriage.

I pushed her shirt up, revealing inch over inch of creamy skin, but before my mind could come up with any ideas, I found the first bruises. A big one on her waist and two slightly smaller ones over her ribcage. Gently, I pressed down on the bruise on her waist but she flinched away from my touch with a hiss.

“Fuck. That hurts.”

I gritted my teeth. I couldn’t wait to go down to the basement and have a word with the * who’d hurt her. I slid my hands higher, lightly tracing her ribs.

She shivered. “What are you doing?”

“I want to see if your ribs are cracked,” I told her.

“You want to use your chance to grope me, admit it.” Her attempt at humor was ruined by her shaky voice but I decided to play along. She didn’t need to know that I was thinking of a way to prolong her attacker’s suffering.

I smirked. “We’ll be married in less than a year, then I can grope you whenever and wherever I want.”

Her smile died and she turned away, closing her eyes. Maybe she hadn’t come to terms with our marriage yet…

I straightened. “I need to go back down. I’ll send the Doc to you when he’s done with your sister. You should catch some rest. Don’t walk around the house.”

She didn’t open her eyes, didn’t give any indication that she’d heard me at all.

I walked out, and closed the door. The Doc was heading my way, one of his assistants, a young woman whose name I kept forgetting, a few steps behind him. “Where’s Aria?” he asked in his raspy, chain-smoker voice.

I pointed toward the master bedroom. “When you’re done with Aria, take a look at Gianna. I don’t think she’s seriously injured but I want to be sure.”

He gave a curt nod, not even slowing. Nobody wanted to make Luca wait.

“Call me before you go in. I want to be there when you check on Gianna.”

The Doc was over sixty but that didn’t mean I wanted him alone with Gianna, not after almost losing her.

He paused briefly, pale eyes settling on me. “She’s yours?”

“Yes.”

He nodded simply, then he continued toward the master bedroom. I turned and headed downstairs.

When I stepped into the basement, the two Russian survivors were tied to chairs. Tito, one of our best enforcers, leaned against one wall, his arms crossed. Romero stood beside him. Another soldier, Nino, attached a drip to the * I was going to tear apart. The other Russian was in slightly better shape and didn’t need a transfusion – yet. Once Tito got his hands on the poor bastard that would change too.

Tito straightened and inclined his head.

“I hope you didn’t start yet,” I said.

“We waited for you,” Tito said.

“Does it look as if Tito started his work yet?” Nino asked eagerly. The kid had a sick fascination with torture.

“Good.” I stalked toward Gianna’s attacker. He glowered at me. “What’s your name?” I asked.

“Fuck you,” he said in heavily accented English.

I smiled at Tito, Romero and Nino. Then I unsheathed my knife and held it out for the Russian bastard to admire. “You sure you don’t want to tell me your name?”

He spit in front of my feet. “Where’s that red-haired whore? Her * was calling for me.”

Nino nudged Romero with an eager smile. Tito had pulled his own knife and was wiping it on his jeans.

“Tough words for a dead man,” I said lightly.

“I won’t tell you anything.”

“That’s what they all say.” I stepped closer. “Let’s see how tough you really are. Twenty minutes is the longest it ever took me to get someone’s name.”

I slammed my fist into his side, right over his left kidney. While he gasped for breath, I nodded at Tito to start his work on the other Russian bastard.

Twelve minutes later I’d learned that the man in front of me was called Boris and had been working for the Bratva in New York for six years, before that he’d been in Saint Petersburg. He was still reluctant to give me more than the basic information. I paused, staring down at his blood covered face. “You sure you don’t have an answer to my question?”

He coughed, blood dripping down onto his shirt. “Fuck you.”

“I can do this all night, but I can promise you, it won’t be pretty.”



Gianna

I grew tired of waiting for the Doc to show up. I didn’t feel very dizzy anymore, and I barely winced when I straightened. And to be honest, being alone freaked me out after what had happened today. I’d been sure we’d all die, and my body still wasn’t convinced otherwise. My pulse was fast and occasionally I broke into a sweat. All because the mob had a bone to pick with the Bratva.