Marked By The Mafia – Episode 55&56

                        ✧༺✰༻✧

                ✮{…THE MISTAKE…}✮

“The wedding will be scheduled next week on Saturday”

Aurora stared at the two men, utterly speechless. 

It keeps getting worse.

___

“You’re both sick” she finally found her voice, the words trembling with fury as she rose from the bed.

Nicholas moved instinctively to block her path, but Antonio’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.

“Let her go,” he said calmly, his tone carrying that quiet authority that left no room for argument. “She’ll come around”

Father and son watched in silence as Aurora turned on her heel and walked out, her defiance echoing louder than any scream.

She spun back at the last second, snatching the crystal paperweight from the bedside table and hurling it straight at Nicholas. It struck his mouth with a sick, wet crack and burst into glittering shards.

Blood flecked his lips. Aurora leaned in close, eyes ice. “I’ll never come around. Stick that in your skull”

Without waiting for their reaction, she turned and walked out, her heels clicking like finality.

•••

AN ABANDONED WAREHOUSE*

The echoing silence of the abandoned warehouse was thick and cold, broken only by the ragged, painful gasps of one man.

Enzo hung suspended from the ceiling by heavy chains, his wrists pulled taut. He was shirtless, his torso a roadmap of purple and angry red contusions. His face was a mask of swelling and bruises, a trickle of fresh blood escaping the corner of his busted lip. His body swayed slightly, struggling against the bindings with every shuddering breath.

Matteo sat opposite him on an overturned crate, perfectly composed despite the grim scene. A predatory, sinister smile stretched across his face. 

He held a custom-made knife. The blade wasn’t merely sharp, it had been heated, its edge blazing faintly in the dim light.

“You really had the effrontery to touch my wife, drugged her, and tied her up,” Matteo’s voice was low but powerful. “Nice try messaging me using her phone, but it didn’t work”

He shifted the blazing knife, the warmth radiating off the metal. “Who do you think you are in the first place? You can never have her, even in your dreams”

Enzo lifted his head, a defiant spark in his swollen eyes despite the crushing pain. He tried to laugh, but it came out as a bloody, wet cough. “Watch her become mine” he splurted out, the delusion fueling his last stand.

Matteo’s laughed, devoid of humor. “You still have the mouth to talk, huh?”

With a supreme effort and a guttural noise, Enzo drew a breath and spat a thick stream of blood directly on the pristine fabric of Matteo’s bespoke suit jacket.

Matteo stopped laughing instantly. His face went utterly cold.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t do that”

Matteo rose slowly, the blazing knife held steady. He approached the dangling, defenseless figure. Without further word, he drove the heated blade deep into Enzo’s side.

A terrible, piercing scream of pure agony ripped from Enzo’s throat, bouncing off the warehouse walls as the scent of burnt flesh and spilled blood mingled in the cold air.

Matteo stood over Enzo’s trembling form, the knife still buried in his side. Blood dripped slowly down the blade.

TWO HOURS AGO… 

The ballroom lights had been blinding, laughter and clinking glasses echoing in his ears. But Matteo’s attention was split.

He’d installed a tracking device on Aurora’s phone a day ago. 

When the small tracker blinked red, he knew she had left the hall.

At first, he didn’t move. He watched the dot travel across the map on his phone, stopping at Le Monarch Hotel.

A small frown formed. Why there?

Then came the message.

*Don’t bother finding me. I just want to be alone.

He almost believed it. Almost.

But something inside him twisted, a cold instinct whispering she didn’t type that.

Within minutes, he was out of the hall, his car cutting through the city streets like a shadow on fire.

The hotel lobby was quiet when Matteo entered. He scanned the room and then he saw Enzo come out of the elevator, he came to take his order.

Matteo’s eyes narrowed.

Without drawing attention, he booked a room on the same floor. 808.

Right beside 807—Enzo’s.

The tracker was showing offline, the phone is probably switched off or dead.

“Shit” he muttered. 

He didn’t think twice when he got to the eighth floor and he kicked open Enzo’s door. 

The bastard barely had time to turn before Matteo’s fist connected square with his jaw.

One hit and Enzo dropped like a stone.

He used seconds to scan the room but Aurora wasn’t in sight. 

Matteo searched him quickly, his pulse steady and cold. Aurora’s phone was in Enzo’s pocket.

He powered it on and the screen flickered to life, and so did the tracker.

Her location updated instantly and the blue dot blinked.

It still says she’s at the hotel presently.

His chest tightened. 

Matteo looked down at the unconscious man sprawled across the carpet, and something dark settled over his expression.

BACK TO THE PRESENT…

Enzo hung limp in his chains, every breath a struggle.

“You should’ve died in that hotel room,” he said quietly, wiping the blood off his knife with the edge of his sleeve. “You are reading from www.mhiztaemy.com.ng” “But I wanted to make sure you understood exactly who you crossed”

He stepped closer, tilting his head slightly, the glint of the blade catching the dim light.

“Now… let’s finish what we started”

Enzo’s body thrashed weakly against the chains, his head thrown back as wave after wave of unimaginable agony washed over him. The floor beneath him became slick with blood.

Matteo was an artist of pain, his face completely devoid of emotion as he executed his justice. Each thrust was a payment for the betrayal, the disrespect, and the ultimate crime: touching his wife.

The cries built, peaking in a long, shuddering howl that scraped the very air of the warehouse.

“AAAHHHH—N-NO! M-MATTEO! PLEASE!”

The screams, thick with blood and despair, dug deep into Matteo, but he felt nothing but cold satisfaction.

•••

AT THE PENTHOUSE*

Aurora had been back for thirty minutes, recovering from the shock of Enzo’s betrayal.

She paced the room, her mind replaying all what happened.  

She finally collapsed on the vast, soft bed, trying to find a way to quiet the furious, worried energy inside her. She missed her husband fiercely.

Unable to bear the suffocating silence, she got up. Deciding a walk, and perhaps Maya’s company, would clear her head, she smoothed her dress and headed for the door.

As the heavy door clicked shut behind Aurora, leaving the room empty, a figure slipped silently from the shadows of the connected dressing room and entered the main bedroom.

It was midnight when Matteo finally returned to the penthouse, everyone had slept already. Maya messaged him 40 minutes ago that Aurora’s was back.

He saw a glass of water on the table. He picked it up and drained it in a single gulp. The instant the cold water hit his system, something felt wrong. 

A dizzying, overwhelming heat surged through him, an almost unbearable pressure building in his blood.

What the hell?

It was pure, overwhelming arousal, sharp and crazed, demanding immediate release. He was on a dru&.

Panic mixed with the rising, desperate need. He knew if he didn’t find release immediately, he would lose control completely. He rushed toward the room, the only thought burning in his drug-addled brain: Aurora.

He burst into the bedroom. The light was dimmed, throwing the room into soft, indistinct shadows. He could barely see the figure lying on the bed, but he didn’t need to. His body, fueled by the mysterious, potent dru&, recognized the shape, the scent, the promise of release. He was past thinking, he was only reaction.

Matteo scrambled on the bed. He went straight to kissing the figure, a frantic, hungry, almost violent kiss.

The person on the bed responded instantly, their arms wrapping tightly around his neck, pulling him deeper into the desperate embrace. The response was too eager, too immediate, but the drug had obliterated his capacity for caution or detail.

He was already tearing at the clothes, his belt buckle hitting the floor. He thrust in hungrily and crazily, his movements primal and unthinking, lost entirely to the terrifying, drug-induced frenzy.

Matteo’s mind was a swirling abyss of fire and need. The powerful drug had stripped him of every shred of his legendary control. He moved like a man possessed, driven entirely by the frantic, consuming necessity to satisfy the cruel cravings raging through his body. 

He slammed into the figure beneath him again and again, his focus narrowed only to the desperate, dru&-induced relief he was finally achieving.

Matteo finally collapsed on the pillows, gasping, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Reality set in instantly. 

His eyes snapped open, a dawning horror replacing the frenzy. This wasn’t Aurora.

Before he could even process the thought, the bedroom light flickered and then snapped on, bathing the entire scene in a harsh, sudden brightness.

Aurora stood frozen in the doorway. she was standing there, a figure of absolute horror and tears. Her hands were pressed over her mouth, muffling a choked scream. Her eyes, wide and shattered, were fixed on the bed.

Matteo was paralyzed, the exhaustion and the lingering poison of the dru& locking him in place. His head slowly turned toward the figure beneath him, dread coiling like a viper in his gut.

He finally looked down. The lady he had just slept with, who had responded to his crazed assault, turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his.

Matteo ripped himself away from the body beside him, scrambling to sit upright. He was shaking, the last remnants of the dru& receding enough to let the monumental horror of the situation crash over him. His eyes, frantic and desperate, darted between the figure on the bed and Aurora in the doorway.

“Aurora! Wait” he gasped, pushing himself toward the edge of the mattress. “It’s not what you think! I—I was drugged! I didn’t know—”

Aurora took a step back, tears streamed down her face.

“It’s exactly what I think!” she cried, her body trembling. “You couldn’t wait for just two weeks! I was gone for hours, and you rushed to your ex lover! You cheated on me with the one person who hates me most!”

The figure on the bed finally stirred, tossing the silk sheets aside. Bianca rose, completely naked. She didn’t bother to hide her smile, it was a slow, venomous grin aimed squarely at Aurora.

“Don’t lie to her, Matty” Bianca purred, running a hand through her disheveled hair. She stepped off the bed, completely unashamed of her nakedness or the scene of devastation she had created.

She walked past Matteo, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “I enjoyed that, Matty. It’s been long” She paused, turning the full, cruel force of her gaze on Aurora. “A drug? You didn’t need a drug to want me, sweetie. You never did”

Matteo’s hands shook, anger and disbelief burning through him. He turned sharply toward Bianca.

“Get out,” he barked, low and dangerous. “Now”

She smirked and she left after picking her clothes. 

He spun toward Aurora, ready to explain, to beg her to understand, to tell her the truth that he’d been drugged, that he hadn’t meant any of it. But the doorway was empty.

Aurora was gone.

And then Matteo realized his body was still betraying him. The arousal, that sudden, overpowering heat from before, hadn’t left. His muscles tensed, his pulse raced, and the maddening, uncontrollable need coiled inside him like a living thing.

Anger and frustration mixed with desire, twisting into a volatile storm. He slammed a fist against the wall, forcing himself to breathe.

Aurora had left… and he was powerless to stop it.

And worse… his body was still reacting, refusing to obey his will. He was burning with want, furious at himself for it, terrified that Aurora would never forgive him, and tormented by the knowledge that he couldn’t think straight.

•

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TBC😈

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