Mated To The Mafia Werewolves

DE LUCA’s RESIDENCE

“What do you have for me?” Sandro asked as Blaze entered the room. He walked to the window, pulled the curtains apart, letting the light flood in, and then turned his gaze towards Blaze.

“Not much,” Blaze replied, taking a seat on the couch.

“And what does ‘not much’ mean?” Sandro’s eyes narrowed.

“I found Paolo Salvatore, but he’s no easy enemy,” Blaze warned.

“I didn’t ask for that kind of information!” Sandro glared. “I wanted to know more about him and his operations. So, if I’m attacked, I’ll know where to strike back.”

“That’s why I said he’s not someone you can easily take down. He’s formidable,” Blaze admitted.

Sandro groaned. “Must I extract every word from you, Blaze?”

“I’m speaking the truth. I couldn’t get too close to avoid detection. So, I observed them from a distance.”

“Them?” Sandro’s brows furrowed.

“Alessia and Janice were with him,” Blaze revealed.

“I’m not surprised,” Sandro remarked.

“There’s something else I noticed, and I thought you might find it interesting,” Blaze continued.

“And?” Sandro prompted.

Blaze remained silent for a while, causing Sandro to scoff. “Are you trying to make me beg for information?”

“I never said you should,” Blaze pointed out. “I’m just trying to find the right way to say it.”

Sandro nodded, waiting patiently, still observing Blaze, who seemed to relish making him wait.

“I’ve come across a tattoo, but I can’t quite place its significance,” Blaze finally admitted, handing over a paper with a sketch of the tattoo.

Sandro’s eyes narrowed as he studied the design for a long moment. He rose abruptly and strode towards the door.RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

“Where are you headed?” Blaze inquired, following him.

“To question the intruders who came here,” Sandro declared, then added, “You’re welcome to join me if you plan to.”

Blaze needed no further invitation. He stepped out of the room, trailing behind Sandro as they made their way to the dungeon. He wrinkled his nose, waving his hand in front of his face as dust floated around them.

The last time he had been here was when he set Alessia free. Now, thinking about it, he wished he hadn’t let her go. Perhaps she wouldn’t have joined the wrong side, and she definitely wouldn’t have attacked Arabella. But then again, Blaze knew he couldn’t bear to watch her suffer. He couldn’t stand by and see anyone suffer, especially when he knew they were innocent.

Sandro came to a stop in front of a large cage, and Blaze did the same. Inside, Blaze saw the intruders-two of them, stripped down to nothing. He couldn’t help but notice the cuts on their bodies and whip-like marks, making him wonder if Sandro had ordered them to be beaten.

Blaze sighed as Sandro leaned into the cage. He wasn’t sure what Sandro had in mind, but he knew it wouldn’t bode well.

“Who sent you?” Sandro growled, his voice dripping with danger. “If you’d prefer to face my wrath, which I would very much enjoy delivering personally, then by all means, remain silent.”

Shaking his head, Blaze said, “That’s not how you question people. You won’t get any answers.”

Sandro straightened, shooting a glare at Blaze. “The way I choose to interrogate my prisoners is none of your concern.”

“Fair enough,” Blaze nodded, raising his hands in surrender. “Just offering my opinion.”

“If you think you can do it better, why don’t you step up and try?” Sandro challenged.

Approaching the cage, Blaze leaned in, studying the prisoners who avoided eye contact. His gaze roved over their battered bodies, and he frowned when it settled on their shoulders.

Blaze attempted to slip his hand into the cage to grasp the one closest to him, but he was pulled back.

“Now, who’s being reckless?” Sandro demanded.

“I noticed something,” Blaze explained, then turned his attention back to them. He was sure it was the same tattoo he’d seen on Paolo.

Turning to Sandro, he asked, “Could I see the sketch I made?”

“You noticed it too, didn’t you?” Sandro asked. “That’s why I’m here; I knew the bastard had sent them after me.”

“It’s Paolo,” a voice murmured.

Sandro turned to one of the prisoners, “Paolo Salvatore?”

“Yes,” the prisoner nodded. He appeared to be in worse shape of the two, but Sandro noticed he had more endurance, unlike the other, that was unconscious.

“What does he want with me?” Sandro inquired.

The prisoner shook his head. “I do not know. He only mentioned that if we were ever captured, we could claim you were suffering for the sins of your father.”

“He anticipated this capture,” Sandro chuckled. “Quite the clever bastard.”

He gripped the bars of the cage and continued, “If my father committed wrongs, should his sins be called upon his offspring? I have no knowledge of what transpired between him and my father. Paolo’s attack on me in this manner is senseless. It’s a pity you won’t have the chance to convey this message to him.”

“Hypocrite,” Blaze muttered, and he knew Sandro heard, judging by the raised brow.

Sandro was being hypocritical, claiming he shouldn’t bear the burden of his father’s sins while doing the same to Arabella. He hadn’t given her the chance to speak, and even if he had, Blaze doubted he would have listened.

Now, Blaze was curious about what had transpired between Paolo and Sandro’s father.

“I have more questions, but I’d prefer you not be in this state to answer, as you’re rather unappealing,” Sandro stated, then snapped his fingers.

Two Deltas, previously hidden in the shadows, approached, each carrying buckets of water.

“Empty them,” Sandro ordered, and the water was thrown onto both prisoners.

Blaze winced as the conscious one cried out in agony. He suspected it wasn’t ordinary water, given the steam escaping the cage.

“If you want answers, this approach won’t yield them. Boiling them alive is not the way!” Blaze’s irritation was evident in his voice.

“You’ll be in that position soon,” Sandro replied. “And I prefer to see them like this.”

“You’re twisted!” Blaze grunted. “I never knew you to be so callous. I don’t even recognize you anymore.”

“You never really knew me, Blaze. Just as I never truly understood who you were,” Sandro asserted.

Blaze shook his head, feeling drained. He’d rather be lying down in his room, contemplating what would transpire when Sandro decided on his punishment than be confined in the dungeon.

“I have another task for you,” Sandro stated, “and it might be the last.”

“And what’s that?” Blaze inquired.

“Find Arabella. I’ve learned she’s here,” Sandro revealed.

Blaze’s heart skipped a beat as he locked eyes with Sandro, sensing the challenge. It urged him to reject the task. He couldn’t help but wonder how the conversation had shifted from Paolo to Arabella. And who had provided Sandro with this information?

“Be cautious, Blaze. I’m willing to overlook your past mistakes if you bring her to me. Arabella is carrying my child…”

“your child?” Blaze asked in disbelief. It was the most astonishing thing he’d ever heard from Sandro. Yet, Sandro’s demeanor didn’t suggest he was bluffing.

“I assume she never informed you,” Sandro remarked, a brief smile gracing his lips before vanishing. “I need to ensure she’s not carrying a demon.”

Blaze’s head still spun from Sandro’s revelation. Arabella was expecting a child. How had he not known? Had she kept it a secret for a reason? Regardless, he needed to have been informed rather than blindsided by Sandro.