Page 45 of And Back

"You’re nothing but a psychopath," I tell him.

His eyes narrow to slits as he takes a step toward me. "I'll enjoy watching you die," he hisses.

I hold my ground, ready for whatever comes next. No more running, no more hiding.

The guards tense up but don't move yet; they're waiting for Benedetto's signal. My heart races as I stare him down, knowing this is our final showdown.

"I bet you would," I chuckle bitterly. "But I'm going to stop you."

Benedetto's sneer grows wider as he steps closer, his eyes boring into mine with a cruel glint. "You think you can stop me? You're nothing but a coward, hiding behind that scarred face of yours," he spits out. "Your mother was weak, and so is your brother. Don’t think you are any different."

I clench my fists, fighting to keep my rage in check. "Don't you dare talk about them like that," I say through gritted teeth.

He laughs again, the sound grating on my nerves. "Oh, but it's true. Your mother was a useless whore who couldn't even keep her own children in line. And Dante is even more pathetic than you are.”

My vision blurs with anger as I take a step forward. "What did we ever do to you?" I demand. "Why do you hate us so much?"

Benedetto's eyes narrow as he looks at me with pure hatred. "You shouldn't have been born," he says coldly. "You and your brother were nothing but obstacles in my path. Competition."

"We were children!" I shout back, my voice cracking with emotion. "All we wanted was our father's love!"

He scoffs, shaking his head. "Love? That's what makes you weak, Virgilio. Emotions make you weak. I had high hopes for you once, but look at you now. You keep hiding."

His words cut deep, but I don't let them show on my face. I won't give him the satisfaction. "You're wrong, emotions don't make you weak" I say quietly but firmly.

"Am I?" Benedetto smirks. "Do you really think you can protect Zoe? There's nowhere she can run to where I won't find her. After I kill you, I'll make sure I fuck her well and good and maybe let my men have a taste of her before I end her miserable life."

That does it.

I see red.

My hands shake with rage, but I know I can't make a move. Not yet. The guards would kill me before I even got close. I take a deep breath and try to calm myself. "You're the real coward here, Benedetto," I say. "Look at you, hiding behind all these men when it's just me."

Benedetto's eyes narrow, and for a moment, I think he might order his men to attack. But then he smirks, a cold, cruel smile that makes my skin crawl. "You think you stand a chance?" he sneers. "Soldati, leave us."

The guards exchange uneasy glances but follow his command. They move to the edges of the room, their eyes still fixed on me, waiting for the signal to come back.

"Only return if I call for you," Benedetto orders them.

Once the guards are gone, Benedetto turns his full attention to me. He cracks his knuckles and takes a step forward, his eyes gleaming with vicious anticipation. "Come at me, boy," he taunts.

This is it. This is the moment I've been waiting for my whole life.

Benedetto and I circle each other, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. His eyes are filled with a cold, calculating hatred, while mine burns with a fury that has been building for years. I will not let him win. Not this time.

He lunges first, his movements quick but sloppy. I dodge to the side, feeling the rush of air as his fist grazes past me. Without missing a beat, I strike back with precision, my training and rage guiding each movement.

The room erupts into chaos as we clash. I move with lethal efficiency, every punch and kick fueled by years of pent-up anger and pain.

Benedetto fights back viciously, his attacks wild but powerful. He aims for my scars and weak spots, trying to exploit any vulnerability he can find. He knows where to hit me. He knows where it hurts the most from past broken ribs and ill-healed bones, because he did that to me.

But my determination drives me forward. Each blow I land sends an electrifying rush of satisfaction through me. This is for every bruise, every scar, every moment of fear he inflicted on me and my family.

Benedetto snarls as he swings at me again, but I duck under his arm and deliver a sharp punch to his ribs. He grunts in pain, staggering back a step. I press my advantage, not giving him a moment to recover.

We trade blows in a brutal exchange, neither of us willing to back down. His strength is waning, while my resolve only grows stronger. I see an opening and take it, delivering a swift kick that knocks the gun from his hand.

The weapon clatters to the floor, and Benedetto's eyes widen in shock. Before he can react, I scoop up the gun and press the barrel against his chest. My finger hovers over the trigger as we lock eyes.

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