Playing With Fire | 18+

33| Lovechild

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Alexander hated the feeling that slowly consumed him from the inside.

He hated that he had to let her leave his sight when he wanted nothing more than to grab her and run. Run away from his family, the accursed mafia, his responsibilities. he wanted to leave it all and run with her in his arms, preferably.

Even if he had to go the extra mile and find a remote and secluded island to disappear off to.

Unfortunately, he couldn't and because of this, a murky feeling was swallowing him whole. The hole in his heart was back with vengeance not to mention the way his heart had dipped to his stomach after he left her to his aide for her safe getaway moments ago.

That sinking feeling made his hands grip the cool metal of the gun in his hands.

'I can trust Mark!' he hissed to himself, aggressively twisting the silencer into its designated place in the gun and slipping it into the holster strapped beneath his arms. He then repeated the process with the other identical gun.

Yeah, he could trust Mark. There was no need to worry. No need to worry at all.

His poor attempt at reassuring himself was lacking and left him unconvinced.

Alex held up a hand, making the universal signal for 'move out'. The four men that accompanied him snapped into motion without an afterthought.

"I need to get to the saferoom, I need a path to be cleared. Alonzo or his men will try to sabotage this group so be on the lookout." At the mention of brothers name, his fists clenched, knuckles paling ghost white beneath the leather black gloves.

"Cazzo bastardo," he mutters sharply as they move out, one man remaining at his rear end.

He had known that she wasn't going to be in a good state when he found her. This was a fucking cartel for crying out loud, hell on earth for hostages and captured victims, especially female ones. He couldn't and didn't even want to try and imagine what she went through at the hands of his half brother. 

The mere thought of induced mental trauma she'll most likely have to endure throughout those few days while being alone as he wrapped things up over here made his stomach lurch and cartwheel. 

Her physical bruises and cuts visible on her sepia skin that was usually so soft and perfect made him fucking livid. It made him want to find Alonzo and behead him, feed his guts to the dogs and water his roses with blood.

Alexander ground his teeth, as they faltered to a stop. He marched up to the front to punch the numbers in for the secret passage.

The godfather had too many of these to count all over the building. Luckily, Alexander knew every one of them like the back of his hand. After all, it was compulsory for the one that's was going to take over the mafia to know everything down to the last details for the home base.

At least that knowledge was proving to be useful... even if he was using it for his own personal gain.

"Starting now," Alex started as soon as they disappeared into the slightly narrow tunnel. "Everyone needs to have eyes in the back of their heads as well as the front." He paid no attention to their stiff nodding or to the man that was especially enthusiastic.