Page 99 of The Don's Deadly Assassin

The garrote glints menacingly in the dim light and my heart races. As I realize the gravity of our situation, he places it against my throat, the thin weapon ready to slice into my skin. I reach down into my pocket, feeling the outline of my pistol. Camela shakes beside me in disbelief over the turn of events.

I hadn’t realized that the snake had power over her. It’s evident that it’s he who weakens her. She was capable of love before she ever met me… she never realized that Matthiera was more a brother to her than a weapon crafted alongside her.

What happens from now on depends on what I do, and I need to take him by surprise. One wrong move and that garrote will slice my skin.

"Vincenzo,” the Snake hisses at me. “Tell me, do you miss your brother?"

His words cut through me like a knife. My heart clenches at the mention of Antonio. How does he know about my brother?

Matthiera laughs a wicked sound that sends a shiver down my spine. "Such a shame what happened to him. Antonio, wasn’t it?"

"Unfortunate, isn’t it?" Matthiera muses, still wearing that infuriating grin. "After all, Antonio's fate was sealed by the same forces that now control Camela and me."

A cold wind sweeps across the docks as an unsettling silence descends upon us. It's at this moment that I understand - Matthiera killed Antonio at the behest of the Handler.

The realization hits me like a tidal wave, consuming every ounce of my being. How could I not have seen it before? It all makes perfect sense now.

A shiver runs down my spine as the pieces fall into place, and I stare at Matthiera with a newfound horror. "You... you killed Antonio," I whisper, the words barely escaping my trembling lips.

Camela's eyes widen, and she echoes my thoughts. "Antonio..." Her voice is raw, filled with sorrow and disbelief.

Matthiera's laughter is cold, his expression twisted with delight. "Ah, so you finally figured it out. Yes, it was me. And what a pleasure it was to watch the life fade from his eyes."

He then pushes the garrote tighter against the muscles of my throat while the grip I have on my gun, hidden away in my pocket, becomes firmer.

Chapter 37

Camela

Matthiera wraps the garrote around Vincenzo's neck with practiced precision, the wire glinting under the starry lights. My heart leaps into my throat.

Vincenzo's eyes meet mine, terror etched into the lines around them. For a few seconds, I look at him in a daze, still thinking of what I’ve just learned. Rage and grief war inside me. I thought I knew Matthiera, but he's become a stranger, a monster. Matthiera killed Antonio, and now he’s going to do the same to us.

“Camela,” Vincenzo whispers, drawing me back to the moment. The fear in his eyes speaks volumes and I realize it’s not Matthiera he’s afraid of. He’s wondering if I still stand by him.

Shame overcomes me. Whatever happened, happened. Whatever comes, will. But I can’t abandon Vincenzo to emotions I can’t confront right now. His life dangles before my eyes, Matthiera prepared to go in for the strike.

And I’m not going to let that happen.

I take a step forward on instinct, my hands curling into fists. Vincenzo struggles against the wire cutting into his throat, desperation in his eyes. I launch myself at Matthiera with a yell, ducking under his garrote and driving my fist into his solar plexus. The air leaves his lungs in a satisfying whoosh.

He stumbles back, gasping, and I press my advantage. A sharp kick to his knee sends him crashing down, the garrote slipping from his grasp. Vincenzo rubs at his throat, drawing in deep, ragged breaths. I spare him a glance, nodding to let him know I have this under control, before turning my focus back to Matthiera.

He's struggling to rise, face contorted with rage, but I slam my boot into his chest, pinning him to the ground. "Don't even think about it," I snarl.

Matthiera sneers up at me, malice in his cold eyes. "You can't stop me, Camela. I'll destroy everything you hold dear, just like I destroyed Antonio."

Red-hot fury courses through me and I grind my heel into his chest. "You won’t be hurting us, I can promise you that much."

He laughs, the sound wheezing from his abused lungs. "We'll see about that."

Before I can reply, Matthiera twists violently under my foot, throwing me off balance. I tumble to the side, momentarily stunned.

I spin on my heel, my eyes falling on Vincenzo. He's leaning against the brick wall, one hand braced on the stone as he struggles to catch his breath. Our eyes meet and in his gaze, I see a mix of emotions: gratitude, anger, sorrow. No doubt he's thinking of his brother, the wound Matthiera inflicted still raw and bleeding.

Vincenzo straightens, hand dipping into his jacket. I tense, ready to spring into action, and to my horror, he pulls out a pistol. Slowly, he raises his hand, the pistol aimed straight at Matthiera, who is now shifting to stand back up.

“Nooo!” I scream, momentarily confusing both men as they try to decipher what threat I’m afraid of. Could there still be a chance to save Matthiera? He was like family to me. We had been close, might still be close. I rush over in three strides, standing right in the line of Vincenzo’s gun.

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