Undressed By The Mafia God

Luca smiled. He walked to the switch mounted on the wall. David had taken five days from Veronica. Five days of fear, humiliation, pain, and God knew what else she had not yet found the strength to say. He would not insult her suffering by being careless with his revenge. "My father used to punish his sons in this room."

Luca rested his hand lightly on the switch. "I spent a lot of time here. Don’t worry," Luca added. "I have been through this before. It’s not so bad."

That was a lie. Luca flipped the switch. Electricity snapped through the water. David’s body seized instantly. His back arched, muscles locking as the current tore through him. The chains rattled violently above his head. His jaw clenched, then broke open around a strangled sound he could not fully control.

Luca watched. Then he flicked the switch off. David sagged against the restraints, gasping. Water trembled around his feet. Smoke rose faintly from his skin. "I was raised to be a god...I was raised to be formidable. A rock."

David coughed, blood stringing from his mouth.

Luca’s eyes darkened. "And so is my wife. Every enemy, will eventually get crushed." He flicked the switch again.

The current cracked through the room. David’s scream ripped out of him this time. His feet thrashed inside the water, but the restraints held him in place.

Luca waited, counted the seconds, then turned it off. Silence fell, broken only by David’s ragged breathing. "You think because you are a psychopath, you have what it takes to come at me?" Luca asked.

David tried to lift his head.

Luca smiled again. "Me?"

David had looked at Luca’s love for Veronica and believed it was a weakness he could exploit. A common mistake.

Usually fatal.

Luca crossed to the tool table and picked up a knife. He moved behind David. The smell of burnt skin was already in the air. It was only day one, and the man was already a mess.

David’s head shifted slightly, trying to follow him. Luca placed the edge of the knife against David’s ribs.

He counted carefully, pressed gently, mapping bone beneath bruised skin, choosing the point with no major organ. David was not dying quickly, no matter how passionately he might come to desire it. "I will announce your death," Luca said near his ear. "Do you understand that? I will not hide it. I will not deny it. I will take pride in it."

"This isn’t New York," Luca continued. "This is Italy." He angled the blade. "The Genovese own it." Then he drove the knife in.

David screamed. Luca held the handle steady, then twisted. Blood welled around the wound, spilling down David’s side in a slow trail. It dripped from his ribs, slid over his hip, and fell into the water below.

Luca left the knife in. David trembled against the bar, teeth bared, breath breaking. Luca stepped back to admire the work. "The next enemy that comes after you..." Luca walked towards the switch again. "The next bastard who looks at my wife and thinks she is a way to hurt me..." He placed his hand on the switch.

David shook his head once. Luca’s blue eyes caught the reflection of the water, the wire, the blade, and the man who had put his hands on Veronica.

"...will meet an even more painful end." He flicked it on.

Electricity crackled through the water again. David’s body convulsed hard enough to make the chains groan.

Luca watched, mesmerised by the suffering. Then he turned the switch off. David sagged, barely breathing. Luca stepped away from the wall, straightened his sleeves, and looked at him one last time. "I’ll see you again tomorrow." He stepped out of the underground holding room and shut the door behind him.

The guard stationed outside straightened immediately.

"Get him a doctor," Luca said. "He dies," he added, voice calm, "you die."

"Yes, sir."

Luca walked away. One day down. Four more days to go. The fun could not end that quickly. No way in hell. David had held Veronica for five days. He had touched her, humiliated her, threatened her and then had the breathtaking stupidity to breathe afterwards. Five days was generous, really. Merciful, even. Luca could have stretched it into weeks if he were not currently pretending to be an emotionally functional human being.

He climbed from the underground wing to the main house. With every step away from David, the violence in his blood began to cool. He reached the living area and found his father there.

Massimo sat with a glass in his hand. Another empty one waited on the table nearby, which meant he had been expecting Luca. "Had fun?" Massimo asked.

Luca stopped just inside the room. "You have no idea."

Massimo’s mouth curved faintly. "I imagine I have some idea." He lifted his glass. "Did it do anything to help your limp dick?"

Luca’s face collapsed into open horror. "Ah, fuck."

Massimo laughed.

"My God," Luca muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "Why?"

"Your mother tends to talk a lot when she is tipsy and sad at the same time," Massimo said, still chuckling.

"And people ask me why I do not share my feelings."

Massimo lifted one brow. "Your mother is worried about you."

"My mother is always worried about me." Luca exhaled slowly and looked towards the staircase, already impatient to leave. Veronica was upstairs. That was where he needed to be. Not here, being ambushed by his father and his mother’s apparently loose-lipped sadness.

Massimo leaned back. "A Genovese unable to satisfy his woman. That is unheard of."

"Father..." Luca said, his voice dropping into warning.

Massimo waved a hand as if dismissing a child’s tantrum. "Relax. I am not mocking you."

"Do you want me to go back downstairs and bring David up so this conversation has a witness? Perhaps he will enjoy the humiliation before the next round."

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