Empress Of Wrath, Blood And Desire

Chapter 12: Horrors of the basement?

Marcellous (Marcello) Di Capo POV

Crashing the empty whiskey bottle against the conference table, I reel around, glaring at the wall, anywhere but the thirteen corpses scattered across the blood-stained floor and draped over the conference table.

I am beyond livid.

My eyes burn with pure rage, my stance rigid, ready to destroy everything in my path.

There are two storms of anger raging within me like swarming insects, but one burns hotter than the rest.

The murder of the mafia leaders inside my home risks igniting a generational war. But what truly sets my blood boiling is their audacity- those idiots dared to threaten my woman, right in front of me.

That's what enrages me most.

Their disrespect pushes me to the brink. I don't care about the enemies this massacre will create. I'll wipe them all out, no matter how long it takes.

These dead men may have been allies to my mafia, but alliances shift like the wind in this world of power. Anyone can be replaced.

Still, one thing remains, we were united in a common mission before Sabrina interrupted. A mission-driven by the hunger for vengeance, to track down our greatest enemy and end their bloodline.

They were helping me get closer to our target, but now, I've wrecked that, too. That's the second reason for my rage.

I hate to admit it, but I'm furious with Dea for derailing our meeting when we were so close.

That's the lesser anger. But when they threatened her, that's when I snapped. No one, in this world or any other, has the right to do that. Except me.

She's my woman. Mio- 'mine' in my father's tongue. It feels right to call her what she truly is. Every man who understands my language knows it, too. She belongs to me.

Anyway, I hope when I explain to her what I did for her, she'll calm down from wanting to escape me so desperately because that's a fate that will never happen.

Not in this lifetime or the next.

She's stuck with me, and not until she accepts her new reality of things she is not allowed to be out of my home.

She's probably locked in the basement by now. I needed to calm the storm of rage inside me, and I stayed back because facing her in this state would only make things worse. She was already furious with me for being angry over what she did.

I thought she was finally getting used to being here. Over the past few days, I'd noticed her avoiding me, but I convinced myself she was adjusting, that she needed space. It burned not being able to touch her, to feel her, but I held back, thinking she just needed time.

How wrong I was.

Now, I regret every second I didn't claim what I craved... her taste, her touch, the feel of her beneath my hands. I wasted those days, believing she was settling in when all she was doing was pulling further away.

And now? Now, I see it was all a lie. A game. I thought giving her space was the right move, I thought it might soften her toward me, even though every second after an encounter she avoided, I went to my bedroom and did the most gruesome and wild masturbation to ever be done ever since I met her.

I was losing my mind, my sanity, every moment without her. But I wanted to give her time, to let her accept her new home on her terms.

Well, that's done now. Me being the good guy? Over. She doesn't respect the leniency or the kindness I've shown her. I realized that the moment I saw how aroused she was when I was furious earlier.