AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Marcus?” I manage to whimper, throat tight with fear. Silence falls, heavy and suffocating, confirming what I dread. Marcus is gone—Leone’s hands tell his story without words. I shatter then, the sobs breaking free despite my desire to appear strong before this man who personifies danger.
“Are you going to kill me?” My voice trembles, barely above a whisper, betraying my attempt at composure.
“No, bambina,” he leans closer, his breath ghosting over my skin, “I have much worse things in store for you.” His hand trails lower, branding a trail of fire down my neck, pausing indecently above my heart, and dread pools in my stomach.
“You’ve been a very bad girl, Fallon,” Leone chides, his tone an eerie sing-song of mock affection. “Did you think you could hide your little stash from me?” He tuts, eyes dancing with a dangerous light.
“Where did you get the pills?” he probes, but my lips seal shut, loyalty or perhaps fear rooting the truth deep within me.
Leone sighs dramatically, clicking his tongue like a disappointed parent, and reaches for a black pouch on the bedside table. My pulse races as he extracts a needle, filling it with a clear liquid that glows ominously under the dim light.
“Such a shame we couldn’t end this without the dramatics.” His voice is laced with false regret. “But I guess I’ll just have to make you watch.”
“Please, no!” Desperation claws at my throat as I thrash against the restraints, but he’s on me, pinning me with an ease that speaks volumes of his power. “Just a muscle relaxant,” he murmurs. “Can’t have you fall asleep now.” He stabs it into the side of my neck.
“I need to shower, but I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere now,” he purrs, brushing his knuckles across my cheek.
His touch leaves my body languid, movements slow and uncoordinated, the drug burning through my veins. It’s torture—the wait, the helplessness—as Leone showers, returning freshly dressed, his attire a stark contrast to the bloodstained shirt he previously wore.
He picks up his belt, and I can’t suppress the gasp that escapes me. His smirk is sharp and predatory. “You’ll wish I was taking this to your ass for what I have planned.” He grips my face, his fingers punishing. “Don’t worry, you’ll get my belt too.”
He releases me from the cuffs and carries me effortlessly, the action disconcertingly tender. But there’s no tenderness in the basement where Milo awaits us, in the cold grip that keeps me upright, in the despair that floods me as my father and Sienna are dragged before me, bound and gagged.
“Who gave you these?” Leone tosses a pack of birth control onto the steel table, his question rhetorical. “Your father or Sienna?”
My stomach revolts, and I vomit. My father’s gaze holds nothing but resignation while Sienna quivers, her husband’s emotionless stare more damning than any accusation.
“Tell me, or I’ll start cutting.” Leone’s voice is calm, almost bored, as he motions for Milo to bring me to the cold steel table, and my eyes widen in horror. Milo drags me to the table and grips my wrist down, holding it on the table when Leone places a knife on my finger.
“One,” he begins the count, my father writhing in his binds.
“Two,” Leone adds, and I spit in his face in a moment of wild defiance.
“Fucking do it then!” I scream, challenging the devil himself.
He wipes his cheek, amusement flickering in his eyes. Then, his grip is on my throat, his tongue forcing its way past my teeth. I bite him hard, tasting copper.
Laughing, Leone pulls away and extends his hand to Milo. A gun is placed into it. “Let’s play a game, shall we? One bullet, six chambers. You know the one?” Leone smirks deviously.
“Sometimes we just need to go back to how it all started,” Leone murmurs.
Panic flutters in my chest as Leone looks at me with eyes that have seen too much and felt too little.
Leone’s dark eyes glint with sadistic satisfaction as he expertly empties the revolver barrel. One by one, the bullets clink onto the cold steel table, their finality echoing in the silent dread that fills the room. With deliberate slowness, he spins a single bullet back into a chamber. The click-clack of the spinning cylinder is a macabre melody, one that chills me to the bone.
“Tell me who gave them to you,” Leone demands, his voice like silk over steel. He presses the gun to Sienna’s temple, her muffled pleas vibrating against the gag in her mouth.
“Please, Leone, don’t do this!” I beg, my voice breaking as I stare at the barrel against her skin. But pleading with Leone is like begging a storm not to break—it only ever ends in devastation. His finger tightens on the trigger, and Sienna’s eyes squeeze shut. The hammer falls with a hollow click, but no shot fires. Sienna gasps, her whole body trembling with the reprieve of the empty chamber.
“You wanted to gamble with lives. Now I’ve set the stakes, Fallon.” He turns to my father, the gun now aimed at his head. “Who gave you the pills?”
“Shoot me, please. Kill me, leave them be,” I cry out, desperation clawing at my throat as I struggle in Milo’s grasp. I’d rather die than choose and be the reason for their deaths.
“Wrong answer,” he says and pulls the trigger. Click. Another empty chamber, and my eyes widen in horror. My father’s shoulders slump in momentary relief, but we all know this game is far from over.
Instead of asking who, he counts this time. “One,” Leone counts, returning to Sienna, his finger poised on the trigger again. “Two,” My heart races wildly, my stomach twisting as tears fall down my face, spilling onto the floor.
“Three,” he continues, and with each number, my heart beats furiously against my chest, begging for a miracle.
