Seven Years in Hell: Escaping the Don Chapter 06
Under the harsh fluorescent lights, Domenico went rigid.
An absurd shudder crawled up his spine. He forced the corners of his mouth into a scoff. “Grandfather, this isn’t funny. She was in the flooded cell for twelve hours. There’s no way…”
“Twelve hours. In near–freezing water. With an unhealed gunshot wound she took for you.” Vincenzo’s cane slammed heavily against the tile floor. “You were the one who gave Elena the Don’s gold signet ring! She ordered the cell sealed tight. Isabelle drowned alive in that ice water!”
An invisible vise clamped around Domenico’s chest. Tasting copper, he threw himself at the stainless steel autopsy table and violently ripped open the black body bag.
Pale light spilled over her.
The body was bloated and tinged blue from the water, her features distorted beyond recognition. But the freshly sutured collarbone–shattered by a bullet–was an undeniable curse that
brutally pierced Domenico’s vision.
It was the wound from the banquet, when he had practically
shoved her into the line of fire as a human shield.
“No… this isn’t real…” He stumbled backward, crashing into a
medical monitor. “A woman who gave birth to three children
without a single painkiller… how could she just die like this?”
“She swallowed that icy water willingly,” Vincenzo said, closing
his grief–heavy eyes. “Domenico, you destroyed every ounce of
her will to live. You treated her as nothing but a broodmare, stripping away everything she had. Her final wish was to rot in
that basement just to wash away the filthy blood you tainted her with.”
“Don’t touch her. You don’t deserve it.”
The old man turned and left, the heavy steel door of the morgue slamming shut behind him.
Domenico’s knees gave out. With a heavy thud, he dropped to the floor beside the corpse.
He buried his face in his hands as scalding tears–from eyes that had been bone–dry for seven years–spilled through his fingers, shattering against the cold floor. For three days, the Moretti Estate plunged into a purgatory–like silence.
Domenico locked himself in the stale master bedroom, clutching
a threadbare blanket Isabelle used to sleep with.
He refused to handle any syndicate business, lurking in the dark
like a beast stripped of its soul, desperately trying to piece together the lingering scent of a woman who was gone.
He couldn’t understand. Why would she rather die than bow to him one last time?
Until the piercing scream of a crying infant cut through the thick oak doors.
Domenico flinched. His bloodshot eyes snapped into focus. Luca. And Leo, and Mia!
If Elena had the cruelty to seal the cell to kill his wife, then leaving those three kids with her…
He jerked awake as if from a nightmare, ripping the Glock from his waistband, and stalked toward the East Wing.
Just as he reached the suite, a conversation drifting from the ajar door nailed him firmly to the spot.
It was Elena and her trusted maid.
“Madam, I made sure the body went straight to the incinerator after Domenico left the morgue,” the maid whispered. “Thank God you used the Don’s ring to seal that cell block. It perfectly blocked anyone from trying to save her. By the time Doctor Victor finally pulled her out, the body was already bloated and
unrecognizable. We smoothly dealt with her for good.”
“Waiting for this day wasn’t easy.” Elena smirked, swirling her red wine. “That bitch was tough. Seven years ago, I put her in the asylum, bribed the guards to double her electroshocks and
shoot her up with hallucinogens, and it still didn’t break her brain! Good thing my lockdown order kept everyone out long enough for her to fully drown this time.”
Outside the door, a deafening ringing tore through Domenico’s
brain. Memories turned into razor blades.
No wonder Isabelle convulsed in sheer terror whenever he got
near her! His so–called “sanctuary” was just a butcher’s knife he
had handed directly to Elena!
Elena’s sadistic voice continued:
“Now that the bitch is dead, let’s take care of those three little brats too. Especially Leo. The way he looks at me lately isn’t right. Domenico still thinks that bitch made me infertile. I can just pretend to be miraculously cured and birth an heir for him
myself. Go get some untraceable poison. We absolutely cannot leave those little bastards around!”
Domenico couldn’t listen to another second. He raised his boot
and kicked the solid wood door open with a thunderous crash!
“Do–Domenico?!” Elena’s malicious smirk vanished as her wine
glass shattered. She scrambled backward, forcing her fake tears. “Darling, let me explain, I’m drunk…”
But it was too late.
In the next second, Domenico lunged like a rabid animal. He
clamped his hand around her throat, lifting her entirely off the
floor and slamming her against the wall.
“Urk… save… me…” Elena kicked the air, her face rapidly
turning purple.
A chilling hostility boiled in his gray–green eyes. To hell with
her facade. To hell with his life debt to her. A violent urge
consumed him: to tear this vicious woman apart.
Just as Elena’s eyes rolled back, a tiny silhouette darted in.
“Let go of my mom!”
Six–year–old Leo crashed into Domenico’s knees. Shaking uncontrollably, his small hands gripped an obsidian dagger as he shielded Elena like a brainwashed puppet.
Domenico’s hand flew open. Elena dropped like a ragdoll,
gasping for air.
But as Domenico looked down, his heart recoiled.
Leo’s tailored collar had slipped, revealing dark bruises and
fresh cigarette burns scattered across his little neck and arms.
“Who did this?” Domenico dropped to one knee, his voice hoarse.
A flash of raw terror crossed Leo’s eyes. He shot a glance at
Elena, then frantically shook his head, shrinking back.
He was only six. Endlessly told to protect his “fragile” mother,
yet the slaps and insults behind closed doors were an
inescapable nightmare. Meanwhile, the only warm figure–the
one covered in blood trying to protect him–had been forcefully
erased from his mind.
Domenico felt a bleeding hollow tear open in his chest.
Was this the heir he was so proud of? This child was nothing
more than Elena’s punching bag.
“Leo, look at her.” Domenico grasped his son’s shoulders,
pointing at the shivering woman. His eyes were bloodshot. “She
is not your mother. She’s a monster who stole everything from
you, and she was just calculating how to poison you.”
Leo froze. Huge tears finally broke free, splashing onto the rug.
Something deep in his bones told him this crazed man was right.
That “madwoman” who stared at him with such tragic sorrow
but never dared approach–she was his real mother.
And she was gone.
“Domenico! No!” Elena broke down, crawling on her knees to
claw at his clothes. “I was wrong! Can’t we go back…”
Domenico ignored her. He pulled Leo securely behind him and
stared down at the woman he had blindly favored for seven years.
Drawing his gun, he used the cold steel barrel to lift her quivering chin. A ruthless smile curled his lips.
“Shaking? Afraid I’ll blow your head off?”
His voice was pure venom. “Don’t worry. Whatever hell you put
Isabelle through, I will make you live it in this house, wide
awake, a thousand times over.”