Impure Love (Dark Mafia Duet #2)

29. Aliyah

29

ALIYAH

C arlo's green eyes gleam with malevolence as he steps closer.

My heart pounds in my chest, a frantic drumbeat of fear. "I was just?—"

"Spare me the excuses," Carlo interrupts, smirking. "You’re a Russo pet, aren’t you? Dante must be slipping if he let you wander off."

"Please, I didn’t mean to—" My voice trembles, but I hold his gaze, refusing to look away.

He chuckles, a sound that makes my skin crawl. "Oh, I’m sure you didn’t. But it’s too late for apologies." He snaps his fingers, and two of his men step forward, their grips like iron as they seize my arms.

"Wait, no! Let me go!" I struggle, but their hold is unyielding. One of them pulls out a roll of duct tape, and my eyes widen in panic.

"Make sure she’s quiet," Carlo orders, his eyes never leaving mine. "We wouldn’t want to spoil the party, now would we?"

A strip of tape is pressed over my mouth, silencing my protests. I thrash against their hold, but it’s useless. Carlo’s smirk deepens, enjoying my helplessness.

"Where’s Dante when you need him, huh?" he taunts, leaning in close. "Looks like you’re all alone, sweetheart."

Fuck, Dante, where are you? My mind screams as I’m dragged away, my heart pounding in my ears. The sounds of the party fade as they pull me down a dimly lit corridor, the walls closing in around me.

"Keep moving," one of the men growls, shoving me forward. I stumble, but they catch me, their grips tightening.

Carlo follows behind, his presence a dark shadow that looms over me. "Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you," he says, his tone mocking.

I try to struggle, but it’s no use. Their grips are like iron. I twist and turn, my heart hammering against my ribs, but they only tighten their hold. One of Carlo’s goons on either side sends me sneering side eyes, clearly enjoying my futile attempts.

Carlo’s dark, twisted amusement is evident in the sound of his voice. “It’s no use, sweetheart. Save your energy.”

I glare at him, even though fear grips me like a vice. My breaths come out in ragged gasps, the duct tape over my mouth stifling any sound I try to make. I yank my arms, but it’s like pulling against steel.

“Feisty, aren’t you?” Carlo chuckles, stepping closer. “No wonder you have Dante in such a tailspin. But let me make one thing clear: you’re in my territory now.”

The men tighten their grip, forcing me to walk forward. My heels click against the marble floor, each step echoing in the corridor. The sound is almost mocking, reminding me of my helplessness.

The sounds of the party are almost nonexistent as Carlo and his men lead me out a door at the end of the hall. It’s tucked away, almost hidden in this maze of a mansion. Their fingers dig into my skin and anger slices through me knowing that even if I were to scream, noone would be able to hear me.

“You think Dante will just let this slide?” I think, though I can’t voice it. The thought of Dante brings a twisted sense of relief. He’ll come for me. He has to.

“Don’t look so hopeful,” Carlo says, as if reading my mind. “By the time Dante realizes you’re gone, it’ll be too late.”

I struggle again, my body thrashing against their hold. One of the goons smirks, his grip like a vice around my wrist. “She’s got spirit, I’ll give her that.”

“Spirit won’t save her,” Carlo replies, his voice dripping with malice.

The cold night air hits my skin as Carlo’s men drag me outside. The door is on the other side of the house from where we came in. The party is so loud inside that I doubt anyone would hear me if I cried for help.

My heels scrape against the concrete, but they don’t slow down. A sleek black car waits, its engine purring like a predator ready to pounce.

I twist and kick, my movements frantic. "Let me go, you bastards!" My voice is muffled by the tape, but the fury is clear.

Carlo's laughter echoes behind me. "Such spirit. Dante will be so disappointed when he realizes how easily you were taken."

One of the goons yanks the car door open, and they shove me inside. I land hard on the leather seat, my wrists burning from their rough handling. The door slams shut, and for a moment, I’m alone in the dark interior, my breath coming in sharp gasps.

The other door opens, and Carlo slides in beside me, his presence suffocating. He’s too close, his cologne overpowering. My heart races, and tears blur my vision as the car starts moving, pulling away from the mansion.

"Comfortable?" Carlo asks, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

I glare at him, my eyes burning with unshed tears. I can’t speak, but my expression says it all.

He chuckles, leaning back in his seat. "I can see why Dante is so taken with you. Such fire. Such defiance."

I try to inch away, but there’s nowhere to go. The car feels like a cage, and Carlo is the predator watching his prey.

"Don’t worry, sweetheart," he says, his voice dripping with false kindness.

I shake my head, a silent plea for mercy. The tears spill over, tracing hot paths down my cheeks.

Carlo reaches out, his fingers brushing against my hair. I flinch, turning my head away. "Such a shame," he murmurs. "You could have been so much more."

The car speeds up, the city lights blurring past the windows. My mind races, trying to find a way out, but there’s nothing. No escape. No hope.

"Why?" I think, my eyes meeting his. "Why are you doing this?"

He seems to understand my unspoken question. "Dante and I have... unfinished business," he says, his tone darkening. "And you, my dear, are the perfect leverage."

A sob escapes me, and I bite down hard on the tape, the taste of adhesive filling my mouth. I have to stay strong. For Dante. For Sophia. For myself.

Carlo leans closer, his breath hot against my ear. "Don’t worry, Aliyah. This will be over soon."

The car's engine hums, a low growl that matches the dread curling in my stomach. Carlo sits too close, his green eyes never leaving me. My heart races as the city lights blur into a nightmarish smear outside the window. Each mile takes me further from the party, from Dante.

Carlo pulls the tape from my mouth making me wince in pain as it crosses my lips.

"Why are you doing this?" I demand, my voice shaky but defiant.

Carlo smirks, leaning back. "It’s simple, really. You’re a pawn in a much bigger game."

"I’m not a pawn," I snap, though my trembling hands betray me.

"Oh, but you are," he says, almost amused. "Dante's pet, aren’t you? He’ll come running, and when he does, I’ll be waiting."

I clench my fists, trying to keep my wits about me. "You don’t know him. He’ll find me. He’ll kill you."

His laughter fills the car, dark and mocking. "Is that what you think? That Dante will risk everything for a little stray he picked up?"

I swallow hard, refusing to let him see my fear. "He will. He’s not like you."

Carlo’s eyes narrow, the amusement fading. "You’re right. He’s worse."

I shudder, the words hitting too close to home. My mind races, trying to find a way out, but the further we drive, the more hopeless it seems. The city fades into the distance, replaced by dark, unfamiliar roads. Each turn makes my heart pound harder.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask, desperation creeping into my voice.

"Somewhere Dante will find very interesting," he replies cryptically.

My thoughts swirl, trying to piece together an escape. Fuck, all I want is Dante. His presence, his strength. How will he find me out here?

"Don’t bother thinking of running," Carlo says, as if reading my mind. "You won’t get far."

I glare at him, defiant. "You don’t scare me."

He leans closer, his breath hot against my ear. "You should be scared."

I twist away, my skin crawling. "Why do you hate him so much?"

Carlo’s expression darkens. "He’s a threat. Always has been. And now, with you, he’s vulnerable."

"Using me to get to him won’t work," I say, my voice steadier than I feel.

"We’ll see about that," Carlo murmurs, a sinister edge to his tone. "And to make sure you won’t be found…" Carlo reaches over and yanks my phone from my grasp. I gasp, trying to snatch it back, but his goon shoves me back into the seat.

"Give that back!" I shout, my voice cracking.

Carlo smirks, waving the phone in front of me. "Not happening, sweetheart. Can’t have you calling for help, now can we?"

I glare at him, the tears already welling up in my eyes. "You’re a monster."

"Compliments will get you nowhere," he replies, pocketing my phone. "Sit tight and enjoy the ride."

Hopelessness crashes over me like a wave. Without my phone, there’s no way to contact Dante. Not that I even know what I’d say. "Help, I’ve been kidnapped by a rival mafia don" doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.

The tears start to fall, hot and unbidden. I try to hold them back, but it’s no use. They trace down my cheeks, and I bite my lip to keep from sobbing out loud.

"Aw, don’t cry," Carlo mocks, watching me with those cruel green eyes. "You’ll ruin your makeup."

I stay silent, the lump in my throat too big to speak around. My mind races, trying to find some glimmer of hope, but it’s like grasping at smoke.

"You’re better off with me," he continues, his tone almost conversational. "At least I’m honest about what I am."

My hands tremble in my lap, and I dig my nails into my palms, trying to anchor myself. "Dante will come for me," I whisper, more to myself than to him.

Carlo laughs, a dark, chilling sound. "If he does, it’ll be too late. By the time he realizes you’re gone, you’ll be long out of reach."

I squeeze my eyes shut, the tears streaming faster. Every second that passes feels like another step away from any chance of rescue. "I hate you," I manage to choke out.

He leans closer, his breath hot against my ear. "The feeling’s mutual, darling."