Rivalry above love-- a dark sketch of mafia life by Bluesky Idea (books to read in your 30s txt) 📖

her hood, her face fully exposed to him as she tried to turn and face him.

 

He looked stunned."fuckkkkkkk..........." she heard him gasp. Anger boiled inside her as he was cornering her personal space-- she had enough of that in her life already. She just looked at the man's green eyes as no words came out of her mouth.

 

Her chest was burning in pain and her brain was about to go to oblivion. She was about to close her eyes but not before she thought fuck the martial art and gave him a fair slap across his face.

 

♠♠♠♠♠

 

When Erhard Eberstark saw a woman kicking asses of his men, he knew he had to take care of it. He had to kill her. He tried shooting from his car but she was moving a lot. Erhard took off his coat, opened up top button of his shirt,folded his sleeves and he was out.

 

He approached her and slammed her to the wall but as soon as his eyes fell on the woman's eyes, he thought better to do with her. Blue eyes surrounded by dark carbon glancing black with a glassy tint-- thanks to the tears, it looked like an ocean in the middle of black wilderness- a soothing sensation in the middle of chaos but then she started attacking him.

 

she was so good with her fighting techniques. It was getting hard for him to defend himself, so he walked back on his words and used a gun to pass her out. 

 

Her face practically mesmerized him. How can someone be so beautiful and feisty at the same time. He couldn't bring himself to kill her, not because he cared about women-- he had killed plenty of women,beautiful women-- but that would be a waste of such protege. 

 

Never in his life had Erhard come across such a woman, they only belonged in movies for him. He had seen and fucked many angel looking faces but this, right in front of him, he couldn't get his head around her looks, her outfit, the passion burning in her eyes, the way she challenged him. In short, She intrigued him, immensely.

 

The mafia man

  When Calliah opened her eyes, it was pitch dark around her. The room reeked of dust and rust. Her head throbbed in pain and her hands were restrained; so were her feet. She was tied in a wooden chair.

 

Calliah started struggling against it like a wild animal. Her scream echoed in the dark room. She loathed being held captive, not in control of her own organs. Just then, the door creaked open and a shadow was seen. He came inside and turned on the light.

 

It was a small bulb above her head and the room contained nothing but two chairs for furniture. Dry straws lay on the brown floor here and there.

 

The first thing she noticed was a man in a black suit. He came nearer and turned the chair round as he straddled it hugging it's back.

 

Calliah had a boring expression on her face. 

 

She knew who he was. 

 

The demeanor, the air he had around him seemed only familier to her. 

 

She was raised around such men. He wore a suit and his slacks seemed too filthy,evidence of the fight they had been in. His tie was lopsided on his chest and his upper chest was visible as two buttons lay undone. Calliah gulped at the sight; something happened to her lower region. The man had sharp cheekbones and stubble a little too big, his nose was bruised badly. His brown hair was half-ruffled, half-tucked back. His eyes were green illuminating in the bulb light. 

 

He smirked.

 

"So you decided to make an appearance." He spoke. Calliah was a woman of few words or that's how she made herself to be during business. She decided to remain silent until he got to the point.

Surprisingly he was silent too. Calliah risked a glance at him to find him smoking cigar stoically. She glared. He looked at her and smiled just a little.

 

"Why am I here?" She spoke finally.

 

"So, you got a good voice,thankfully; the scream was a big turn off which gave me second thoughts about not killing you there." He said not looking at her and smoked relishingly.

 

"Cut the crap. Why am I here?"

 

This made him look at her; a sly smile playing on his lips, his judging eyes scrutinizing hers. He got up, walked towards her and grabbed her cheeks hard, squeezing them. She gazed at him with her glistening eyes.

 

"A.Don't you fucking talk to me like that" He whispered loudly. She could smell cigar in his breath.

 

"B. You are likeable, baby girl. Oh you are. You intrigue me and people who intrigue me, I bring them with me." He let go of hold on her cheeks with a force.

 

"What's your name?" He continued.

 

"You really expect me to tell you anything." She scoffed.

 

Erhard found it hard to control his anger but there was nothing much he could do, not unless Anita was here. She tortured women for him and mind you,she was pretty good at it. Erhard didn't enjoy torturing women. They were always frail to his eyes and he couldn't see them crying. Some he found disgusting, some he felt bad for (mostly disgusting) and feling bad was not an option for a mafia.

 

"What the fuck?" He kneeled down the floor and they both stared at each other with same ferocity.

"You do realize who's in charge here, don't you?" He continued.

 

"Guess we will have to see." She spoke as she stood up lifting the chair.

 

She jumped and bent forward nearly touching her feet with her head thrushing the wooden chair with extreme force on Erhard's back which shattered with a cracking sound which may have been the sound of his bones the way they hurt. 

 

Calliah had undone the knot of her feet the whole time they talked and she was undoing her hands now. Erhard got up but a round kick landed on his head making him dizzy.

 

"Fucking loser." She shouted. "You couldn't even play fair."

 

He knew she was talking about the fight earlier.He leaned on the wall for support as she advanced on him with a wooden stake which was part of the chair just a while ago. At that moment, he regretted not killing her. She was a woman and he was about to be killed by her but he wouldn't use his gun; it rested on his belt quietly. As she advanced, he used his feet to trip her over and tackled her when he had the chance. 

 

She lay there struggling but Erhard was big and he thrust all his weight on her. Both of their eyes boiled with hatred and he pushed both her hands behind her back. She resorted to biting his neck. 

 

"Aaah....fucking bitch." 

 

He grabbed her hair and slapped her across the face and she drifted to her sleep.

 

********

 

She got up second time and a jingling sound met her ears. It was coming from her feet. She was tied in chains on the wall of the same room--her wrists cuffed on either sides and her feet in manacles.

"Was that fair enough for you?" Her captor spoke with a devilish smirk.

 

*****

 

She could hear a muffled man's voice talking on a phone- her captor. Every time she tried to stretch her hands and legs, her ears met a clanking sound; her body ached to rest themselves on ground and her throbbing head wasn't helping at all. She was wincing now and then because of the pain in her head and when she twitched her eyes because of it, another pain jolted from her bruised cheek. Blood dripped from her upper lip and she moved her chained wrists time to time to keep them from getting numb.

 

"Don't make me hurt you, beautiful!" A voice snuck up on her and she realized her good-looking captor was standing in front of her. His hand made their way to Calliah's lips and he removed the blood all the while scrutinizing her face with his green eyes. A shiver ran down her spine at the gentle touch and she closed her eyes to let out a whimper. His thumb lingered on her lip longer than necessary. She gulped.

 

"Why, you think I can't take it?" She spoke not breaking her gaze; her voice was scratchy and she realized she needed water desperately. Her voice had another effect on Erhard. He let out a deep breath. A chained killer woman was in front of him and she wouldn't submit to him. Words couldn't describe how sensuous he found her. No, he wouldn't kill her-not before pounding deep in her until she was sore and begged for more.

 

"Oh, no. Not at all. I think you'll take it but I don't want your pretty face ruined-you see, I have my own personal plans with you." He mumbled.

 

What happened next took him by surprise.

 

"Fucking motherfucker." She spat on his face and tried to pounce on him with sudden force but the chains restrained her. He was taken aback and he took a few steps behind. She continued her wild outrage.

 

"Is there anything else you know to do with a woman.." She was lunging her body violently as the chains pulled her back to the wall; her eyes glimmering vehemently and hair all over her face.

 

"Pussies like you think that's the only way to break a woman-fucking try what you do with other prisoners.." Her head shook with rage and her body vibrated alarmingly as she yelled. "I can take it. I can take it better than any you've tortured." Her nostrils flared dangerously and her eyes was burning with contempt.

 

"You ain't getting no information from me. I can take torture; I can take rape; I can take any pain. Ain't nothing that'll break me.... So, fuck you!" She ended it with a spit again and the chains rattled viciously.

 

He was awestruck. What just happened? He stood there as he tried to process the meaning of her sudden outrage. She was shaking uncontrollably, hatred vivid in her eyes and she barely knew him. His mind showed him another figure who resembled her essentially: Alfonso. He was a man of fifty who worked for Germans for as long as Erhard remembered. He was an assassin- a ruthless one- who scared even the Chef at times. He was a crackhead and he still remembered Alfonso killing a waiter at Erhard's sister's wedding - with his bare hands--just because he spill a drink on him. His father-Chef Eberstark forgave him with no hesitation. He was that good. Killing had damaged his sense completely and this figure right in front of him was another Alfonso.

 

Now, it was his turn to shake with fury. Erhard put his hand on his hair and pulled them with frustration. He growled as he started pacing the room like a mad man. He had kidnapped an assassin

 

He was supposed to kidnap an inside person that would lead him to the target men and he kidnapped a nutcase who wouldn't reveal anything, who probably didn't know anything like Alfonso, whose job was just to kill for kicks. But then had he tried everything? 

 

His head was pounding in distress and looking at this woman intensified it. She was challenging him. He took out a dagger from his pant pocket and