Taming My Mafia Stepbrother

Chapter 92: Dead Or Alive

Double pov

Cara

Although Luca claimed to have a meeting in a short while, we spent a recklessly long amount of time sharing passionate kisses and were past caring by the time Luca finally broke away and pulled me to my feet. Kissing me yet again before we left the room.

The walk back to the club was less uncomfortable now that I had Luca holding my hand and leading the way like a man would lead his woman in a crowded place. I basked in the envious looks I was getting, smiling proudly as I got past the hating bitches. Hating was all they could do, I was still the one that had Luca at the end of the day.

Our drive to the hotel Luca was having his meeting was full of hot, passionate kisses. I was beyond aroused when we arrived at the place, so aroused that every brush of my thighs together was bordering on painful.

Luca led me to the hotel’s private bar, kissing me deeply one last time before saying, “I’ll be back soon.”Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Shortly after he left, the familiar faces of my bodyguards popped up and surrounded the place. I wasn’t even fazed at this point, I’d long reconciled with the fact that they have practically become my shadows. Always following me and keeping watch.

I busied myself by taking in everything, loving the luxurious ambience of the place. The people however weren’t a lot to take in. A gay couple making lovesick faces at each other sat not too far off from me. A middle aged woman with incredible hair was nursing a glass of whiskey at the bar, looking like someone who was drinking to forget. She kept yappering to the big, burly bartender who looked rather at odds with the elegance of the place. If I wasn’t mistaken, there was a trace of ink peeking out from his collar.

I don’t know how long I sat there, watching and musing but I was getting bored. I was considering going to the bar to get a drink when a sudden white flash cut across my line of sight.

I blinked rapidly, wincing in discomfort as my vision blurred. When they focused again, I found the taller one of the gay couple posing as his partner took pictures of him with a…

The flash came again and I froze.

“Smile for the camera, darling.” The partner was saying.

My throat closed up. I- I’d heard that before. Many times from his mouth. Another flash of light flickered across the bar and I shied away from it.

Stop hiding bitch, face the camera like the shameless whore you are.

Something chilly slithered up my spine. No, please. Stop taking pictures. I jumped to my feet, intent on getting away, intent on running away from him. From the flash of the camera, from his cruel voice.

You can never hide that slut body from me. I own you and I’d do with it as I see fit.

“No. Go away.” I managed to say over the roaring taunts around me and the tightening of my airway.

“Signorina,” Sergio’s voice was calling from somewhere far away. He’d never be able to make it to me in time. Diego would have completely gotten to me before he did.

Little whore. He was whispering in my ear, his cold hands wrapping around my throat choking me. I fell to the ground, fighting to escape his hold to no avail.

“Please… stay… away…” I managed weakly, barely able to breathe. My skin was hot with fear yet I was shuddering from the disgusting feel of his hands around me. I shut my eyes, afraid to see his frightening face, the evil glint in his green eyes.

Another set of hands started to shake me, rattling my heavy body. It angered me, they were supposed to be getting Diego’s hands off me not shaking me.

“Cara. Cara, baby.”

Luca, that sounded like Luca.

Luca?

“Yes, baby it’s me.”

My eyes snapped open to his glorious face, struck pale with fear. Fear for me.

“Luca, g-get him a-a-away from me.”

“Who, baby?”

“D-” I started to say but stopped when I noticed he was gone.

Gone, Luca had chased him away. His powerful presence had caused the devil to run off.

“You made him go away.” I said drowsily, my body going laden with relief and joy and triumph. “You saved me from him.”

“Who, bambina? Who are you talking about?”

I could feel myself slipping away, my mind relaxed now that Luca was here.

“Cara?” Luca shook me again.

“The devil.” I whispered before all went black.

Luca

My heart froze over like a lake in a biting cold winter when Cara went limp in my hands.

I slowly nudged her. “Cara?”

She didn’t move. Her body felt stiff in my arms, like all the muscles in her limbs were knotted.

My heart thawed immediately, pumping dread into my veins and my eyes roved over Cara’s sweaty skin, wide and wild with alarm.

“Cara,” I nudged with a tell this time, still getting no physical response from her.

She’d been kicking and squirming only a few seconds ago, she’d been crazed with whatever that was haunting her, looking so scared and troubled that it had me choked on fear.

But this new development was even worse.

I dipped down to place an ear on her chest. Her breathing was weak and shallow. A low wheezing noise slipped out of her subtly parted lips.

Terror shot through my chest like a lightning bolt. I scooped her up at once, my legs having a mind of their own as I practically zoomed out the bar, my men hot on my tail.

“Call the family doctor.” I barked at Sergio, “tell him to be at the penthouse in ten minutes.”

“Yes, boss.” The soldier responded, immediately pulling out his phone.

I cradled Cara closer, silently praying to all that was listening that the doctor is there by the time we get to the penthouse.

“Get out of the way!” I bellowed at the frolicking hotel guests as I raced for the entrance.

The car was already waiting and it set into motion the moment I slipped in the backseat after Cara. I held her close, tapping heavily on her back, willing her to be fine.

“Breathe, Cara. Breathe.” I begged, rocking her numb form to my body.

The ride back to the penthouse seemed endless. Mile after mile of road stretched past us before the tall skyscraper finally came into view.

My driver had barely shut the car when I burst out with Cara, dashing for the elevator.

“Alfonso!” I yelled the second the elevator doors dinged open to the foyer.

The doctor was waiting in the living room, his large briefcase of medical tools already open and ready.

He rushed over immediately, waiting for me to set Cara down on the couch before feeling for her pulse. “Her pulse is weak.” He observed. “What happened?”

I raked a hand through my hair. “She started having difficulty breathing after a brief hallucination episode. I think it’s PTSD.”

Alfonso, the family’s doctor for as long as I can remember, took the information in stride and it grated on my nerves.

As if he perceived my annoyance, he said, “it’s just a panic attack Don. She’ll be fine, nothing is going to happen to her. A few stress relief pills and a good ol’ rest and she’d be up and about. You don’t need to worry.”

I blew out a tense breath, his words doing nothing to comfort me. Cara had gone through something so awful she was still heavily devastated by it. I revisited the memory of her screaming on the floor, her hands choking her own throat as she fought off something or someone only she could see and it made my blood curdle with hot, red fury. Fury I WILL unleash on whoever it was that hurt her and I’d do it in the most heinous way possible.

Whoever it was, they better be dead.