Page 69 of Tempting My Mafia Monster

There was a knock, and Olivia came in.

“The doctor has left. Raya is in the bath, and Elle is watching over her. She still hasn’t spoken and won’t let go of that paper in her hand. But the good news is that the cut on her face wasn’t deep, so it didn’t need stitches. There weren’t any signs of ‌other bruises, cuts or injuries on her body. The doctor said she was physically healthy, though a little underweight. But it’s her obviously fragile mental state that concerns her the most. The doctor said she must have suffered a great deal of trauma and is processing it in her own way. We need to get her some psychological help.”

“Soraya has always retreated when she’s overwhelmed. This isn’t unusual,” Gio added. “She’ll talk to someone eventually. She just needs time.”

“I’m not so sure,” Olivia sighed, resting a hand on her hip. “This feels different. She’s not just retreating. She’s completely shut down.”

“Did the doctor…” Alessio started, looking extremely comfortable. “Did she run any other tests?”

We all knew what he was asking. Was my sister still a virgin? My heart raced as I glanced at Liv. She pressed her lips together and shook her head.

“Without Soraya’s consent, the doctor wasn’t comfortable performing those tests. She’s happy to come back if Raya agrees later on. But there was something else…”

“What?” Gio asked, immediately on edge. We all were.

“Did Raya get a tattoo? Before.”

They all looked at me. I frowned. “No. She doesn’t have a tattoo.”

Liv exhaled. “Well, she does now.”

My stomach tightened. “What? A tattoo of what?”

She exhaled, clearly unsure how we would all react. “It says… His Little Monster across her ribs.”

The room fell silent. I stared at her, hoping she would tell me this was a joke or offer some explanation that would stop me from wanting to put my plaster-cast fist through a wall.

Gio slowly pushed himself to his feet and took a few steps forward to the window.

I gripped my whiskey glass so hard I was surprised it didn’t shatter.

“He claimed her?” I growled, my voice low and laced with violence. If Sean McKenna had permanently marked her as his little monster, as he’d called that fighter his monster, what else had he done to her? Unwanted images flashed through my head. Six weeks of captivity. Six weeks we knew nothing about.

“That sick fuck,” Gio snarled, slamming his palm on his desk so hard it rattled everything on it. “That’s why she tried to kill him. She couldn’t walk away without revenge after what he’d done to her.”

He was right. It all made sense. The tattoo. The hatred I saw in her eyes. The knife. The way she’d launched herself at McKenna at the first chance she got.

I stared into my glass, my reflection distorted by the amber liquid.

That tattoo was proof of only one thing. We were too late. We’d failed her.

I’d vowed to always protect her, and I’d failed. When she’d needed me most, I hadn’t been there.

I may have fought to the brink of death to rescue her, but whatever Sean McKenna had done to my sister, we could never undo.

And no amount of bloodshed would change that.

Fading Away

“It’s three in the morning. She’s been in there for two days; enough is enough. She needs to get some sleep or eat something,” Gio growled from outside the open glass doors of the music room.

I wasn’t supposed to hear, so I didn’t turn around from the piano. Instead, I stared at the manuscript papers scattered across the surface of the piano and crossed out another measure.

It wasn’t perfect.

It had to be perfect.

It had to be him.