CHAPTER CIX
~~~
~~
~
The next thing happened so fast that they barely registered it. A bullet was fired in Sophia’s way, and by the time Chase saw it, the bullet was already an inch away from her. A bullet was fast, but Chase was faster because he, on reflex, grabbed her arm and pulled her away. She fell on the floor with a thud, and the next second, he was falling over her.
“Are you okay?” He cupped her cheek, worry etched on his face, and voice.
“I-,” She hissed out. “My arm. It hurts,”
“Fuck,” He pulled away from her and stared at her arm. Blood was already seeping out of her arm, pooling around the tile below them. “The bullet hit your arm. You were shot,”
Tears stung her eyes. “I-,” Sophia looked at the space far behind Chase and it caught his attention.
Chase pulled out his gun and turned to where she was staring at, only to lock eyes with a masked man under a table, pointing a gun towards her head.
The bastard was the one who shot her on the arm.
Before the man could hide away from Chase, a bullet was already buried on his hand, and he fell backwards, howling in pain. He had the chance to kill him, but there was no way Chase would have done that.
His death was only coming after torture.
Chase turned to Sophia and panic shot through him the moment he saw her eyes closing. He cradled her cheeks. “Gattina. Don’t close your eyes. Try to leave your eyes open.” He tapped her cheeks gently. “Look into my eyes. You’ll be okay. You’ll be perfectly okay,”
{“Kitten”}
“It-,” She sighed, her eyes closing. “It hurts badly,”
“I know,” He picked her up in his arm. “You’ll be okay. It was just in the arm. Look at me,” He stood up.
Sophia smiled. “I- I love you, Chase,” Her head lulled to the side, and her eyes closed.
~~~Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.
Chase roared at his cousins. “Dove cazzo e Saige?!”
{“Where the fuck is Saige?!”}
“l’hanno fatta sequestrare dalle guardie,” Luciano replied. “E nella prigione femminile,”
{“I had the guards seize her”} {“She’s in the women’s dungeon”}
Chase barked. “Manda gli ordini immediatamente. Voglio che la fottuta villa Deluca e ogni altra proprieta di proprieta di quella famiglia vengano ridotte in cenere! Nemmeno una cazzo di mosca nella proprieta dovrebbe vivere!”
{“Send out orders right away. I want the fucking De Luca mansion and every other property owned by that family burnt down to ashes! Not even fucking a fly in the property should live!”}
Lucas asked. “E De Luca? Che cazzo gli succederebbe?”
{“And De Luca? What the fuck would happen to him?”}
Chase pinned him down with a stare. “Anche lui dovrebbe essere abbattuto. Dovrebbe bruciare in cenere insieme alle sue proprieta. Ma prima che venga mandato a morte, assicurati che sappia che la sua fottuta principessa ha causato la sua morte,”
{“He should be taken down as well. He should fucking burn to ashes with his property. But before he is sent to his death, make sure he knows his fucking princess caused his death”}
The three chorused. “Si, Don,”
{“Yes, Don”}
Once they left, Chase looked up the stairs, wondering if he should go to his room and check up on Sophia. She was still unconscious but the doctor that took out the bullet from her arm assured them that she was okay and in good shape. He had said that she needed rest.
His legs itched to go up the stairs. Chase made his way towards the staircase.
“Don,”
Chase stopped at the sound of one of the guards’ voices and turned. “Che cosa?”
{“What?”}
“L’uomo che ha tentato di uccidere la signora e stato legato secondo i vostri ordini,”
{“The man who tried to kill ma’am has been tied up as per your orders.”}
~~~
Chase picked up the kettle of hot water and raised it above the head of the unconscious man. He wondered if he should do what he was about to do.
His hands shook as he remembered how what he was about to do was once done to him when he tried to kill his uncle years ago. He was still a thirteen year old boy by then, but was able to use a gun. He had tried to shoot his uncle to end the mental torture he was going through.
Unfortunately, he was caught by his dad.
That same man, after catching him, submitted him to Antonio for punishment.
He was beaten up by Antonio’s men to pulp, and he fell unconscious.
He was brought back to consciousness with a scalding hot water poured over him.
Remembering the cry that had left him when he went through that horrible punishment, his features hardened. He ignored the cold sweat that broke out of his forehead and poured the contents of the kettle over the man’s head.
His victim’s eyes snapped open, and he howled in pain at the stinging pain of the hot water pouring over his head, trickling down to his face and disappearing into his shirt as it burnt his skin. He couldn’t run away. He was bound to a chair.
A weird sense of satisfaction spread all over Chase’s heart, and he smiled. A smile played on his lips when he pictured the similar expression his uncle had on his face that horrible day.
His victim’s cry of pain quenched the flame of anger he was feeling all over him-just a little bit-and he found the sound from the man enticing to his ears. Was that how he himself sounded when he was made to go through that torture?
Once the kettle was empty, Chase dropped it on the ground and smirked as the man’s skin turned pink.
“Tell me how you feel,”
The man whimpered in pain, and Chase gripped his hair in his fists, throwing his head back. “I’m a horrible man. You should have thought of what you’d go through before trying to take away what’s mine from me,”