Deadly Saints [18+]

063: Hell with you sounds heaven to me

|Isadora Cordova|

We didn't dwell on the mess that Bane and my mother started, the entire ceremony drenched in blood. Perfect white tainted with crimson, psychotically the sight made me happy. Now, this is a ceremony I could get behind. However there wasn't any time, everyone fled the scene as fast as they could. Azarov made a couple calls to his clean-up crew and another to handle the people in the hotel, whether they were sent to kill. I frankly couldn't care but he didn't strike me as that type of person.

For now, New York wasn't safe for any of us therefore Diavolo made calls through his cousin's phone for arrangements for a private jet to take us back to Russia. I intercepted that call, he eyed me suspiciously.

Surprisingly I knew his number by heart, dialling someone that needed to know that Bane is dead.

"Hello?" I the stern voice answered.

"Jacques, your brother is dead."

The silence cut through the line, if my calculations are correct we wouldn't hav any animosity between us.

Suddenly a sigh of relief passed through, almost in glee, "Thank god."

"Take Aurora and leave. Do what you must but don't return back, don't subject her to even more torture than she has endured. Take care of her."

"Thank you, Isadora, for everything."

Cutting the call, I returned the phone back to Azarov. Only to have the rest of my family staring at me, speechless. "Long story."

We weren't in the mood to hash out any further details when we boarded the jet, the atmosphere rather tense and tiring. Exhaustion creeping upon us, everyone passed out on the seats or sofa's along the jet and Diavolo and I were no exceptions.

Darkness bathed the jet while we all went into a blissful slumber, however Diavolo seemed unsettled. He took the space of two seats, forming a bed for himself. His gaze shifted to the window, analysing the night sky glistening with puffy clouds and illuminating silver light.

Diavolo's hand folded under his head for support as his arctic orbs stared into an abyss, Covered in blood that has long dried, forming bruises that started to swell against his face and yet he remained powerful.

No words were passed, besides the snoring of Sebastian and Nadia. All their limbs tangled against the sofa and over others, Diavolo and I didn't speak, he assumed I had long since dozed off to sleep but that wasn't the case. He plagued my mind nonstop, attempting to decipher what goes on in his head.

What is he thinking? What did they do to him?

He wasn't up for conversation, even when we landed. The tension layered thick between us all that no one dared to speak, they picked up on the atmosphere and thankfully didn't intercept.

We probably all wanted to return home and catch some shut eye for a day or two, it is crucial after the months we have endured. Stress relievers; some painkillers, some drugs, some alcohol, some sex. Those are what we needed now more than ever.

I didn't expect him to talk to me; Diavolo didn't even glance my way even once since the short time we have spent together. When we arrived in his mansion, Katya informed us that the babies were kept safe with one of her most trusted friend. Azarov provided heavy security since you couldn't be too careful, therefore we didn't have to maul over them and they didn't have to be freaked out by the blood were all bathed in.

Diavolo quicky interlocked his fingers with mine when I wasn't looking, he didn't turn around to inform me on any further detalls. Instead, he continued up the stairs, expecting me to follow his trail. If this led to some sort of conversation for him, then I gladly followed.