Untamed (Omertà Book 2)

to shake his head to escape the illusion. He knew the choices hadn’t been his to make at that point but his father’s, yet that hadn’t helped him once. He had always believed himself a protector, a guardian, and the one who should be in the line of fire. Yet, he hadn’t been kidnapped like his younger sister and brother. Having his siblings in any kind of danger was equal to having his stomach stabbed millions of times. Or maybe even that couldn’t compare to it. And when he had been driving to the place they were said to be, he hadn’t been able to think of anything other than getting them out of there and finally being the big brother they should’ve had from the start. The one who would be able to protect them no matter what. So, at seeing Sienna’s dead body, in a pool of her own blood, he’d suddenly felt numb. His brain hadn’t been able to comprehend what it was seeing, and his body refused to be overflooded with the expected pain that was to come after such loss. And ever since, the visions had plagued him - blood running down his fingers, dripping to the floor.

So, he made them as real as possible. To cover up the numbness he felt. It easily turned into the thrill of taking a life that didn’t mean much to him in the first place. And it made him the Made Man he should have been from the start. Cruel, brutal, and merciless. Because the number of people dying around him continued to grow, and he should be able to shut down any emotions that followed.

He threw another punch towards the man who was barely sitting on the chair. His face was a total mess of blood and saliva and there was no way of distinguishing his features and identifying him anymore. Noah knew, however, because the man in front of him had made it his life’s mission to screw with his Famiglia. The prosecutor, one of the few people that had refused to succumb to the mafia’s rule. Because he believed in a better world where he was free to choose and live with his choice. Such a naïve outlook.

Another kick to the stomach swung the chair back, and the prosecutor landed on the floor with a loud whimper. Thankfully, those who didn’t belong the underworld never held up for long and quickly begged for mercy. Not than any person would stand a chance against Noah. He was able to break anyone. Whether they were a part of his world or not. And right now, he preferred to deal out the punishment on his own. He had all this tension that he needed to let go of. He was serving the man’s personal hell on a big, silver platter. A hell where endless pain and torture went hand in hand.

Hell was reserved for those who knew their actions were wrong and did them anyway, enjoying other people’s anguish and taking what was not rightfully theirs. And it was also called heaven for people like Noah. The real hell for him was not being able to see his sister’s laughing face ever again, and in stark contrast to it - seeing his brother’s expression hold a million painful memories behind a wall so high there was no breaking it down. Hell was the vision of losing Inéz to his own stupidity. Because after dealing with so much horror from such a young age, he believed that the Famigliawas to be put first and that he didn’t need anyone else in his life to balance out his evil nature.

How wrong he had been…

Because waking up alone, and realizing that he could have done things differently was as much of a torture for him, as getting beat up was for the prosecutor. The thing was that the man was going to die at the end of it, and Noah still has to live with his decisions.

Grabbing a knife, he decided it was time to move on to more satisfying actions. With a smirk on his face, he came up to the man, leaning down and pinning him against the floor steadily with his knees. The blade moved towards the man’s right hand.

Horror flickered in theprosecutor’s eyes as he realized Noah’s intentions. "No, please. I will do anything you want. Please don’t do it," he begged, but regrettably, it only made the Capowant to hurt him more.

Taking his time, he pressed his knees tighter into the man’s chest and legs, gripping his hand at the same time. He was muscled and strong so there was no chance he wouldn’t get his way. And with that thought, he slashed the blade through the fingers, going deeper and deeper with each move. Blood started spouting as agony-filled screams rang in Noah’s ears. Finally, he pressed the knife, cutting through all the layers, the fingers now lying on the floor, separated from the rest of the body.

But it wasn’t the end. No, just the beginning as he did the same thing with the other hand, taking his time and enjoying it all profoundly. More begging rolled through the prosecutor's lips. This time Noah didn’t ignore it.

"Don’t act like I haven’t given you the possibility to do things differently. My brother was very lenient with you for longer than you deserved," he seethed.

If there was one thing Noah hated was being taken for a fool. He rarely acted in the spur of the moment when it came to killing someone. He preferred having leverage over people to ending their life just because he loved killing. But after repeatedly warning someone, there was nothing else to do but take matters into his hands and deal out a suitable punishment for the crime that had been committed against him. And the man’s bold statement that he was going to get rid of the mafia had been the last straw, equaling in his death sentence.

"Stop the pitiful begging,