Page 80 of The Last Vendetta

“Please. Go. Francis will help you get away. I beg of you, Giulia. Start a new family. A new life. It’s long overdue.” With those final, whispered pleas, he closed his eyes. Once, then twice more, he exhaled.

He was gone.

Dead.

I stared down at the only relative who’d ever tried to stand up for me. The spare brother, considered less than compared to my father when he was the patriarch. But also, the only man who’d ever attempted to raise me with courage while under the watchful eyes of my parents.

Go.

He’d begged it of me with his last breath, and I couldn’t sink into a pit of despair now. I would mourn him. I would grieve for this giving man, but I had to heed his last orders first.

I stuck the handle of the knife between my teeth and sawed at the zip ties that bound my wrists. It took longer than I wanted it to, and with the tears that blurred my eyes as I looked over my uncle’s corpse, I strained to work harder and faster.

I had to get away. I couldn’t let his sacrifice be all for nothing.

As soon as the ties snapped, broken from my hasty cutting, I dropped my arms and shook out the aches. My limbs were numb, but as blood rushed through and my muscles could move free of the binding, I grabbed the knife once more.

Fisting it in my hand, I prepared to leave.

They’d have to come back soon.

And that would be my moment.

I’m sorry, Uncle Dario.

I stared at his lifeless body, overwhelmed with sadness and remorse that I’d lost him like this and would have to leave him here. I couldn’t drag him with me to give him a proper burial and send-off. I couldn’t spend another moment praying over him and telling him my sorrows.

I waited. Tense and bracing for a fight, I plastered myself to the wall next to the doorway.

The moment someone touched the doorknob, I locked my muscles and held my breath.

The panel pushed open, and I leaped forward, the knife coming out before me.

It was only one. A single Romano guard. Seeing that it was the man who’d slapped my face with his dick, I crouched lower and yanked my hand back, only to plunge the knife in again—upward near his groin.

Because I’d caught him by surprise, his reaction was stalled. I wasn’t too naïve to assume it could be this easy. Already, he reached for his gun. With my lucky stab up near his dick, likely severing something down there, I’d rendered him almost speechless. But for good measure, I stood and gripped his head to bash his face on an upward swing of my knee.

Then I ran. With Dario’s bloody knife, I sprinted up the stairs and refused to stop until I’d reached safety.

Nowhere seemed safe anymore. I only ever felt secure in Renzo’s arms. I ran from his family home, though, knowing I would need to carve my own safe haven somewhere else in the world, far from the drama and danger that saturated our lives here.

26

RENZO

Renzo

By the time I reached the city limits, I felt like a tense bomb waiting to explode. Frustration welled within me. Speeding as fast as I could, I tried to stay in control and not let this urgency overwhelm me.

I was impatient to get home and figure out where Giovanni could have had Giulia taken and held. I didn’t waste my time calling him. Demanding for him to tell me anything would be a waste of time.

He’d made up his mind. He was determined to stick to his old grudges with Isabella and the Acardi name regardless of how faultless Giulia was in whatever had pissed him off in the past.

It wasn’t her fault she was an Acardi. Nor was it mine that I happened to be born as a Bernardi. Whatever made him so judgmental and biased had nothing to do with anything Giulia or I did in the present.

Dean called me as I neared the main Bernardi estate where Gio lived, where Luka used to live, and I answered, hoping he would have information for me.

“What is it?” I asked after I greeted him curtly. I didn’t need to worry about hurting his feelings by being gruff. He was just as taciturn.

---