four

58 1 0
                                    

He leans closer, the edge of the blade brushing lightly against my cheek. I freeze, my breath catching as the cold metal grazes my skin, the threat of it suffocating. "You're going to tell me what I want to know, or this is going to get much worse for you."

"I—I don't know," I stammer, my voice trembling, barely audible. "Please... I don't know what you want. I don't know anything."

His eyes darken, and in an instant, the pressure against my cheek increases. The blade slices into my skin, a sharp, burning pain that makes me gasp. I can feel the warmth of blood trickling down my face, and tears sting my eyes, but I fight them back, refusing to let them fall.

Luciano tilts his head, watching me closely, gauging my reaction. "You can save yourself a lot of pain if you stop lying to me." His voice is cold, devoid of any trace of kindness. "Four of my men are dead, and I know you're involved. Maybe you didn't pull the trigger, but you know who did. So, I'm going to ask you again. Who killed my men?"

"I don't know!" I cry, the panic surging through me now, uncontrollable. "I swear to you, I don't know anything! Please, you have to believe me!"

He doesn't respond, his face unreadable, but the blade presses harder. I feel the sting as it drags down, leaving a burning trail along my jawline. My body shakes, the pain radiating through me, but it's the helplessness that terrifies me more. The knowledge that he's not going to stop. He pulls the blade away, examining it, watching the blood drip slowly from its edge. He stands again, towering over me, and I can see the frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior. "You're wasting my time," he says, his voice laced with cold fury.

I shake my head, desperate. "Please... I don't know anything."

His expression hardens, and he raises the knife again, this time holding it over my arm. "Maybe you'll talk after this."

Before I can react, he drives the blade down, stabbing into the soft flesh of my arm. Pain explodes through me, white-hot and blinding. I scream, my body jerking against the chains, but there's no escape from it. The agony is overwhelming, consuming every thought, every breath. He twists the knife, his eyes never leaving mine, watching every twitch, every gasp, like he's savouring my pain. I can feel the blood pouring from the wound, soaking into my skin, and the tears I've been holding back as good as I could finally fall, mixing with the blood on my cheek.

He pulls the knife free, the sound of it tearing through flesh making me sick, and I slump forward, the strength draining from me. The room spins, the pain making it hard to focus, but I can't let myself pass out. I can't let him think I've given up.

I hear his voice, low and steady, cutting through the haze of pain. "You'll talk soon enough." He wipes the blood from the blade on the fabric of my t-shirt, almost casually, like this is routine for him.

I can't stop shaking, my body wracked with sobs now, but I force myself to meet his eyes. There's no mercy there, no chance of reasoning with him. He's going to keep doing this until I give him something. But I have nothing to give.

"This can end whenever you want it to, bella. All you have to do is talk."

I shake my head, choking on my own sobs. "I swear... I don't know... I don't know anything."

His face remains expressionless as he stands once more, the blade glinting in his hand. "Then we'll keep going."

He tosses the bloodied knife to the floor with a casual flick of his wrist, the clatter of metal against concrete echoing in the room. My breath comes in shallow, desperate gasps, and the stabbing pain in my arm feels like it's consuming me. But I know it's far from over. I barely have time to register the shift in his body before his fist slams into my stomach. The impact is brutal, knocking the air from my lungs in an instant. My body jerks against the chains, and for a split second, I think I'm going to pass out. The pain radiates from my core, spreading like wildfire through my chest. My mouth opens in a silent scream, but no sound escapes.

Bloodlines and BulletsWhere stories live. Discover now