Revenge Wedding With the Mafia Queen Chapter 07

Revenge Wedding With the Mafia Queen Chapter 07

Sean’s POV 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” 

Lucia carefully supported me as we descended the stairs. Her voice echoed in the dimly lit corridor. 

“It’s not a pleasant place,” she added after a pause. ‘ 

You’re not fully healed yet… The doctor said you shouldn’t even be out of bed.” 

“I’m sure,” I cut her off. 

The staircase seemed endless. With each step, the air grew colder. The scent of disinfectant slowly gave way to something else–the smell of rust, decay, and an indescribable, sickening odor. 

“If you feel unwell, tell me immediately,” Lucia said, her arm tightening around me. “We can leave right away,” 

The basement door creaked open. 

A pungent smell hit me, and I instinctively covered my nose, Lucia frowned, “Let’s go back upstairs.” 

“No.” I took a deep breath, forcing myself to adjust. “I need to see.” 

Chapter 7 

She studied me, a complex emotion flickering in her eyes. Finally, she nodded and guided me inside. 

The basement was colder than I’d imagined. Stains of blood dotted the walls, the floor was damp, and flickering lights cast wavering shadows. 

Two cells stood side by side. Faint moans echoed from within. 

Lucia led me closer. 

In the left cell, Vivian lay slumped in a corner. 

She looked completely different–deathly pale, with sunken eyes and cracked lips. But the most horrifying part was her hands–severed at the wrists, the wounds crudely cauterized, leaving behind black, charred marks. 

She flinched when she saw us. 

“Sean…” Her voice was hoarse, worn from too much screaming. “Please… I beg you…” 

I stayed silent, just watching her. 

Vivian shook her head frantically, tears streaming 

down her face. “It was him! It was all Brandon’s idea! 

swear!” 

“He was always jealous of you!” Her voice grew shrill. “Said you didn’t deserve such a good marriage! That you were just some fallen family’s son!” 

“He told me to touch you! To humiliate you! I… I was just following orders!” 

A sharp cry came from the right cell. 

“Bullshit!” 

Brandon’s voice–but it sounded strange, as if forced from deep within his throat. 

He crouched in the corner, his face wrapped in bandages soaked through with yellow pus, emitting a foul, rotting stench. Hearing Vivian’s words, he frantically tore the bandages off. 

I saw his face. 

Or rather, what was left of it. 

The acid had melted his features. Skin hung like melted wax, exposing raw, red muscle beneath. His eyes were swollen, his mouth distorted–nothing remained of the man he once was. 

I instinctively stepped back. 

Lucia held me tighter. “I warned you.” 

But I forced myself to keep looking. This was his fate. 

The price of betrayal and humiliation. 

“It was you!” Brandon shrieked, the sound escaping his mangled mouth. “You, Vivian!” 

“You were the one making dirty jokes about Sean!” He pointed at her wildly. “You said he must be a slut in bed! That you knew his body better than anyone! You even said you’d love to sleep with him again!” 

Vivian turned even paler. “Shut up! Just shut up!” 

“Shut up?” Brandon laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. “You planned to dump him five years ago!” 

“You said his family was ruined, that he was useless to you! The Rossis needed a more valuable match!” 

“So you seduced me! Forced me to take his place!” 

Vivian lunged forward, pointing at him with her mutilated arms. “You climbed into my bed yourself, you bastard!” 

“You said you’d help me get rid of Sean! That he wasn‘ t good enough for me!” 

Beside me, Lucia began to tremble. I could feel her holding back something immense–a terrible, rising fury. 

I gently squeezed her hand. 

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. 

“Enough,” she said, her voice chillingly calm. 

Both of them fell silent instantly. They stared at Lucia, eyes wide with terror. 

Lucia nodded to the guards behind her. “Open the partition. Put them together.” 

The guards moved quickly. The iron door creaked open, and Vivian was dragged into Brandon’s cell. 

“No! Please, don’t!” Vivian screamed. “Don Salvatore, I beg you-” 

“I don’t want to be with her!” Brandon shrieked. “Kill me! Just kill me now!” 

But the guards ignored them. The door slammed shut, locking the two inside together. 

Lucia drew a short blade from her waist. 

It was a traditional Neapolitan family dagger, the blade engraved with the Salvatore crest. In the dim light, the steel gleamed coldly. 

“I’ll give you one chance.” 

Lucia’s voice echoed through the basement, calm as if discussing the weather. 

“Only one of you walks out alive.” 

She tossed the knife into the cell. It clattered sharply against the floor. 

“Decide for yourselves who it will be.” 

Vivian and Brandon both stared at the blade, The air went still. 

Then they lunged for it at the same time. 

Lucia turned me away, guiding me back toward the exit. 

Behind us, sounds of struggle erupted–screams, pleas, the sickening crack of bone. 

But none of it mattered to me anymore.