XANDER VITTORIO LOVE STORY

Alexander Vittorio POV

It's getting hard to tell how much time has passed since Riccardo Ponti visited us.

I was caught off guard that Ponti was the one who ambushed us instead of Emannauel.

Riccardo Ponti is the eldest son of Ignacio Ponti, who's been loyal to the mafia all his life. It's no secret the Ponti family isn't happy about the ties between the mafia and bratva, but I didn't think they'd go this far.

The Italian is looking for shit to rain down on his head. Once Viktor, the head of the bratva, and Andre, the head of the Demonyo mafia, hear of this, all hell will break loose.

The Demonyo Mafia is tied to the Bratva through marriage, and from what I've heard, it's a happy marriage. There's also the fact that Viktor and Andre are close friends.

With Ponti taking us, he's declaring war on the mafia and bratva.

I'd laugh my ass off if it weren't for the shitty position I find myself in.

And then there's the girl. She's been quiet since I agreed to keep her secret. I'm impressed she came up with the lie that we're dating. It won't keep her alive for long, but she bought herself a day or two.

My eyes drift to where she's pressed her body into the corner. Panic and fear still tighten her features. My gaze stops on her trembling hands.

She has pretty hands.

Every time I look at her, I'm struck by her beauty. Beautiful is the last thing you want to be when you're kidnapped. There's a good chance they might rape her before killing her.

I feel sorry for her, but there's not much I can do.

"Did you see my brother?" I ask.

She shakes her head.

I keep staring at her until she finally turns her head and meets my eyes. She looks broken, and they haven't even started with the torture.

Then again, she's not from my world.

Suddenly I wish I could tell her she'll be okay, but I can't bring myself to lie to her.

"What's your brother's name?" she asks her voice soft as if all her energy has been drained from her.

"Marc Vincent."

"And your last name is Vittorio?" When I nod, she explains, "They gave me your full name." She seems to think about something before she says, "We should get our story straight in case they ask about our relationship." When I don't say anything, she continues, "My last name is de Luna. I'm from Italy." Her face threatens to crumble before she says, "My Papa Rocky Ace died a year ago." She loses the battle, and a sob bursts from her. "There's no one who will notice I'm missing."

I'm hit by an intense wave of pity for the girl who seems to have the worst luck in the world.

"I have people already searching for us," I say to make her feel a little better.

Whether they'll get here in time is a whole different story.

Silence falls between us for a long while before Anya whispers, "Please tell me this is just a nightmare, and I'll wake up soon."

My gaze swings to her, and I shake my head. "I might be a criminal, but I never lie."

A hollow-sounding sigh escapes her. Minutes later, she looks at me. "Why are you a criminal?"

I shrug, and figuring I have nothing better to do, I decided to answer her question. "I was born into the Mafia Family. It wasn't a choice."

"If you had a choice, would you do something else?"

I shrug again but don't answer because I never thought about it. Why waste your time thinking about something that can never be?

After a while, she asks, "Don't you want to know anything about me?"

My eyes lock with hers, then I murmur, "You're an eighteen-year-old, Italian who lost your parents and is alone in this world. You've grown up in a protected household and have no idea how to handle the shitty situation we find ourselves in. You're a positive person because, against all odds, you still have hope to get out of this alive." I pause for a moment before I add, "And you're either a kind person or a weak one for agreeing to change clothes with a girl you don't know." My eyes flick to the door. "I know everything worth knowing about you."

I can feel Anya's eyes burning on me. "You don't have to be a jerk."

She might be beautiful, and under different circumstances, I would've taken my chance with her, but this is not the time or place to get to know someone. Growing attached to her will make me vulnerable.

Hours pass when nothing happens. It's impossible to tell what the time is because there are no windows in the room.

I'm thirsty, and my stomach keeps rumbling.

Anya keeps squirming in the corner, giving me the impression she needs to go to the restroom.

My bladder is full, but I can hold out for another few hours.

I'm more worried about Marc Vincent than anything else. He's the eldest of Vittorio's sons, so they will torture him before they get to me.

They're probably torturing him at this very moment.

I keep my face expressionless like I've been taught to do.

Papa used to beat the shit out of us until we learned to show no emotion. Now I understand why he did it.

My father isn't a good man, and honestly, he's not much of a father. I've been raised by one of the bosses of the Demonyo Mafia, and the only love I get is from Mama, Marc Vincent, Maryo, and Tanya.

Their love is enough for me.

Honestly, it's more than most people in my position ever get.

Climbing to my feet, I walk to the door and bang on it while shouting, "Some of us need the toilet."

I bang my fist against the door again, and when I hear footsteps, I move to the other side of the room.

Anya quickly gets up and comes to stand next to me, her side pressing against mine. When the door opens, Ponti's henchman steps inside.

I tip my head in Anya's direction. "She needs the toilet." When the man hesitates, I say, "Unless you want us stinking up the place. It's up to you."

With his gun drawn, he gestures for us to come, which I take as a good sign that they intend to keep us alive for a while.

The henchman's shorter than me. I'm pretty confident I could take him, but then I see the other armed soldiers as we walk down the hallway.

I memorize the layout of the building as we pass four shut doors before we reach a restroom with three stalls and sinks. There's a tiny window that's been welded shut.

Marc Vincent could be in any of those rooms.

The henchman presses the barrel of his gun to the side of my head and nods toward the stalls. "You have one minute, prinsesa."

Anya rushes into a stall, and a couple of seconds later, it sounds like a waterfall is unleashed.

When she doesn't come quick enough out of the stall, the henchman snaps, "Time's up, prinsesa."

Seconds later, the door opens, and Anya comes out, her cheeks burning red.

"Drink water," the henchman instructs.

I watch as she relieves her thirst, and only once the barrel of the gun is directed at her head do I get a nod to use the toilet.

I couldn't give two shits about a girl being in the restroom while I take a leak and go about my business.

I rinse my hands and drink my fill before I push Anya to the side to stand between her and the gun. The poor girl is shaking like a fucking leaf.

My calm demeanor has the henchman glaring at me, and I'm shoved toward the doorway.

We're not taken back to our room but instead shoved into another room where Ponti is sitting on a chair, and Marc Vincent is on his knees in the middle of the concrete floor.

My brother's been beaten, and near him lies one of his molars. Unlike us, he's restrained with handcuffs.

Fuck.

There's a camera standing on a tripod probably to send our father recordings of our torture.

If Ponti thinks this will make the mafia and bratva cut ties, he's stupid as fuck.

Forcefully, I tear my eyes away from Marc Vincent, and with a blank expression, I look at Ponti.

Let the fun begin.

XXX