Bianchi Twins | On Hold

Three

Alessandro Bianchi POV

The screams of the Russian bring joy to my ears. His cries for help, his pleading for me to stop his torture, satisfies me, "Please! I don't know anything!" he cries out.

Liar. If he didn't know anything then his leader wouldn't have sent him to blow up one of my warehouses. That warehouse had cargo that was needed. It also had 64 of my men inside. I had to tell those 64 families how their husbands/father is dead. You see when someone in my mafia dies, the family is informed and then given money for their services, depending on the income of the household. We also pay for the funeral expenses.

"Malcom." I call for my main torture guard, who is standing outside the door.

"Yes capo?" he says, coming into the cell.

"Rip his nails and skin off his fingers and toes." I say emotionally. The Russian starts to shake in fear. "No! No! Please! I have a family!" My eyes turn cold.

I hate it when they bring up their family. Those who mention their families when they are being tortured are those who don't care. Besides I already had a background check done on him. I humorously chuckle.

"Yeah? I heard you beat your wife and 13 year old daughter." The man pales, all color draining from his face. Figlio di puttana doesn't care about his family. (son of a bitch)

Malcolm walks towards the bleeding Russian that is chained to the wall. I stand and observe my work. I had cut off his leg and made him blind in one eye. His clothes are torn after I hit him with a spiked baseball. His body is tattered with scars made by my favorite knives. I had burned his back and now he is about to have his nails torn off. I'm thinking of chopping off his dick next.

As Malcom is about to rip the Russian's nails off, a ringing interrupts us. I groan. Why is someone calling me right now?

I take out my phone and see an unknown number. An American number. I grumble at my phone. I can see the Russian sigh in relief.

"Malcom, deal with him for me." I order.

Malcolm nods. "Yes capo."

The Russian shakes and begs. "Please! Please don't! I-" his scream interrupts his pleading. I walk out of the cell and answer the call.

"Yes?" I blatantly say. I walk upstairs, heading to my office.

"Hello. Is this Mr. Bianchi?" A woman asks.

"Yes, who's asking?" I command in a flat voice. 

"This is Mrs. Channing from Social Services. I am calling from Chicago. I want to discuss with you about you taking guardianship over your daughter and son." I freeze when I'm about to open my office door. Son and daughter?

"You have the wrong person." I tell her dismissively. 

"I don't believe I do. Your wife, Dominique Moore just passed. Her 2 children, Armani and Andrea Moore are in need of a guardian. According to their file, you're their father." My mouth opens in shock. I have another son? And a daughter?

"How old are they?!" I demand. If they are my kids... then they have to be around 15. Dominique, my wife, left me 15 years ago. I still remember when my oldest son, Leonardo, came running to me crying about a note he found.

"Papa! Papa! Mama is gone!" Leonardo yells, running into my office. I cut the call off with my secretary.

"What?" I ask, speechless. Leo runs up to me and passes me a note. "I found this in your's and mama's room."

I open the folded note.

Dear Alessandro,

By the time you see this, I will be long gone. I refuse to be a mother to those boys. I never loved you. The only reason I agreed to marry you was because of the luxurious life I would live. You told me if I refuse to act like a better parent than you were going to divorce me. I don't want to be a mom to those brats. So I've decided to leave. I found the love of my life. His name is Francisco. Isn't his name lovely? I took a few thousands from your safe, hope you don't mind.