Chapter 4 This Is What Disobedience Looks Like

POV: Fiore

"It means..."

His breath grazed the shell of my ear.

"Death."

That's what he whispered.

And he didn't blink when he said it.

Didn't shift. Didn't breathe wrong.

Just let it sit in the air between us like smoke.

I froze. Not because of the word.

Because of how it tasted coming out of his mouth.

Like he'd said it before.

Like he'd done it before.

"Are you going to kill me?" I asked.

My voice wasn't steady. I wasn't trying to pretend anymore.

I still didn't look at him.

Didn't want to see the answer in his eyes.

He didn't give one anyway.

He just grabbed my wrist. Tight. Too tight.

And pulled me with him.

Past the guards.

Past the warmth.

Down a corridor that smelled like history and bleach.

Then the staircase iron, black, groaning like it remembered things no one talks about.

"Matteo....."

My voice barely got out.

He didn't respond.

Didn't look back.

Just dragged me down two more hallways, past a row of expressionless guards, and down a black iron staircase that groaned like it hadn't been used in years.

At the bottom was concrete. Seemed cold and wet.

He swiped his hand across a panel.

The door slid open.

Underground.

There was furniture.

No lights just harsh fluorescents.

Metal walls. Chains. Hooks. A drain.

A chair in the center. Bolted down.

This wasn't a basement.

"Stand there," Matteo said.

I did.

I fucking did! I obeyed their Don's order.

Don't blame me. I couldn't think of what to do.

Well, maybe not yet...

He turned to his right hand, standing in the shadows.

Another man stood at the bottom. Lean. Watchful. Eyes that didn't blink.

"Bring me the animal," he said. "And my weapon."

A lion?

A pitbull?

No. Men like him can't keep normal things.

I imagined something exotic. Something broken and teeth-lined.

Maybe a hyena.

Maybe a snake with the mouth of a man.

The man nodded once and disappeared.

I didn't ask questions. Couldn't find the words even if I wanted to.

The room was... something else.

No walls just brick and black pipes. A drain settled in the middle of the room.

Ropes were hung from the ceiling down.

Rusted chains.

Stains on the concrete.

Blood doesn't wash out, I guess.

The footsteps came back. Louder this time and heavy.

I looked.

And froze.

Not an animal.

Not a beast.

A man.

Dragged by the arms.

Shackled.

His ankles scraped against the floor.....

The metal cuffs had scratched his skin raw. Damn!

His hair was matted. Shirt torn open. Ribs showing.

But not starving. Not broken.

He seemed fed.

And kept.

He wasn't confused.

He'd been here before.

He didn't fight.

He didn't speak.

He didn't even look surprised.

I backed up a step. My heel hit something metal.

He was shoved to his knees in the center of the room. Didn't resist. Didn't speak.

Just looked up.

Eyes glassy. Wet. And somehow still aware.

My stomach twisted.

"Is that a.....?"

Matteo cut me off.

"Tie the fucking animal!" Matteo ordered.

The guards didn't flinch.

They tied the man to a steel chair bolted to the floor. Ankles. Wrists. Chest.

He didn't fight.

That scared me more than if he had.

One strap for each wrist. Each ankle. A belt around the chest to stop the shaking.

He started to mumble something. It wasn't begging yet.

Just... something between prayer and pleading.

The blade came out next.

Matteo's weapon. Handed to him like a crown.

It was long. Slender. Polished.

He didn't jump into it. No frenzy.

Just walked over and looked the man in the face.

They stared at each other.

Then the first cut.

Small. Across the cheekbone.

Blood swelled instantly, thick and dark.

The man flinched. No scream.

Second cut below the collarbone.

This one longer. Deeper.

He grunted. A sharp inhale. With his eyes rolling.

The room smelled of rust and sweat and old pain.

My knees weakened. I tried to stay upright.

But Matteo was just getting started.

He stepped behind the chair. Pressed the blade to the man's scalp.

A shhhhlick sound. Hair peeled away in strips. Blood trailed down his temple.

Then came the burn.

A metal rod, pulled from a furnace on the far end of the room.

Red-hot.

The man screamed this time.

A real scream.

It ripped out of his throat like a demon trying to crawl out.

I flinched. My body jerked, but I didn't look away.

Couldn't.

He burned through the man's shoulder. Again. Then again.

The skin bubbled. Popped.

He screamed loud enough for everyone in this fucking blood thirsty house to hear.

It didn't stop.

His head dropped forward. Blood dripping from his chin now.

Pliers next.

Fingers. First one. Then another.

The snap.

The man in the chair looked at me.

Just once.

Eyes locked.

Like maybe, maybe I could still stop this.

Matteo slammed the spike through his thigh.

The scream cracked open the ceiling.

Blood sprayed.

Bone split.

And Matteo didn't flinch.

Did it again.

I turned my face.

But I still heard it.

The breaking.

The moaning.

Matteo grabbed the man's jaw and forced it up.

"You took something from me," he said.

"I didn't....." the man choked.

Matteo shoved two fingers down his throat.

Pulled them out bloody.

The breath of a man who knew death would take its time.

I pressed my hand to my mouth. My spine scraped against the wall. I couldn't breathe right.

Matteo didn't blink.

He kept going until the man stopped moving altogether.

When it was over, the silence came slow.

Like even the room was holding its breath.

The air was thicker now.

I could still hear the blood dripping to the floor.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Matteo turned toward me. I turned to face him.

His hands were clean. Someone else must've wiped them.

"This," he said moving closer to me, "is what disobedience looks like."

He didn't even raise his voice.

Didn't need to.

My throat tightened. My legs shook. But I stood straight.

Blink.

Don't let him see it.

Don't let him win.

I swallowed and said, "Is that supposed to scare me, you psychopath?"

He smiled a little. Just with the corner of his mouth.

He stepped toward me.

"I'm educating you."

I looked at the man twitching, breath wet, tears finally falling.

"You called him an animal," I said. "But he begged like a man."

Matteo's smile was razor-thin.

"He begged.

He bled.

He died."

He stepped into me.

Close.

Too close.

"If you disobey my orders," he said, voice low, "I won't show you what happens."

He brushed a blood-slick thumb across my cheek.

"I'll show you what I can do."

I didn't speak.

I stepped around the mess.

Didn't run.

Didn't scream.

Just walked.

Back to my room. Slow. Deliberate.

When I shut the door behind me, I let my forehead fall against the door.

My breath stuttered.

But the tears didn't come.

Not yet.

Not now.

And yet...

I couldn't stop thinking about how his fucking hands didn't shake while torturing the man.

Not once.

Not even when the screaming started.

And that terrified me more than the blood.

Because part of me...

wanted to know what he'd do next if I refused him again.