Page 70 of Bianchi

Romeo’s fingers flex on my hip and he exhales heavily through his nostrils. Curiosity coats his words when he asks, “Why would they have taken her uncle?”

My voice is quiet and grating on my vocal cords when I try to speak. “They didn’t. He had them take me. It was all part of their plan.”

They share a look before Massimo drops back. With a hushed tone that only gets quieter the further down the corridor Romeo moves us, he speaks into his comms. Romeo’s thumb smooths back and forth over the back of my hand. Any other time I’d have found the gesture comforting, but it’s just a reminder of all he’s put me through.

When we step out into the open room they tortured me in, my uncle screams out. Pleading words tumble from his lips and I stiffen at the sound of his voice. I can’t help but take one last glimpse at him as he struggles with the men tying ropes around his wrists and ankles. Pulling out of Romeo's grip, I hold on to a pillar we’re passing for balance and watch as they secure him to the chair.

This man—I can’t even call him family—killed my father and took away any chance of me ever having a relationship with him. I can’t be sure that he wasn’t involved in my mom’s death and I need answers. As far as I’m concerned, he’s going to get what he deserves. Hell, he was going to kill Romeo, and he was very close to killing me.

With their guns trained on him, Angelo and another man surround my uncle when the ones tying him to a chair step back. My eyes land on the 9mm holstered to Angelo’s hip. Even as I feel Romeo’s presence moving closer behind me, I keep my focused stare on the gun, running through every possible scenario of what could go wrong with what I’m about to do.

Here goes nothing.

It’s only when I can trust myself to stand without toppling over that I move forward. A strength I thought I’d never feel again fuels every step. My fingers are swift and I’m holding the gun before Angelo can react. I point it at my uncle.

Fascinated, I watch as his face transforms from fear to certainty. It’s like watching a different person enter his body. His posture is relaxed, a confident grin stretching across his face. “Bambina, you don’t have it in you to pull that trigger.”

I ignore his comment, because it really doesn’t matter if I do or not. We’ll all find out sooner or later. The thought makes my chest feel light and with the gun still aimed at him, I ask, “Did you kill my mom?” When he doesn’t answer me, I stab the gun into his forehead and scream, “Did you kill her?”

There’s a look on his face and it tells me what I already know, but I need him to say the words. I reposition my hand on the gun, swallowing down the grief that threatens to consume me. “Why?” I croak.

He doesn’t speak, instead continuing to sit there with that same look on his face. Daniele steps up behind him, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head. My eyes meet his and he nods before pulling out a knife. I want to scream at him to not kill him, to tell him that I want to be the one that does it, but when I open my mouth, nothing comes out.

I suck in a breath, staggering back a step before I catch myself. Daniele plunges the knife into my uncle's shoulder and pulls it down the front of his chest to his armpit. He screams out in pain, sobbing as Daniele pulls it free and aims for the other shoulder.

“Answer her,” he growls.

A dark patch appears in his lap, spreading out as he stutters, “Y-y-yes.” His bulging, watery eyes meet mine. “I ordered your mother’s death. She was pressuring your father to leave and cooperate with an FBI investigation. That isn’t how this life works.”

I swallow down the bile at his words. My mom was no doubt trying to protect her family, and he thought he’d destroy it. Taking a step toward him, I press the gun into his forehead again. A sense of power overcomes me, knowing that he can’t hurt me. If he wasn’t tied up, would I still be pointing this gun at him? Probably not. Daniele releases him and moves to the side.

A flare of panic ignites behind my uncle’s eyes. “We are famil?—”

“Fuck you. We’re not family. Families don’t kill each other.”

I pull the trigger, the resulting sound near deafening. Pain jolts through my body and my arm falls limply to my side. My heart pounds in my chest as I stare at my uncle’s lifeless body, his blood pouring from the hole in his forehead, onto the floor.

Dazed, I look around for a way out. I can’t process any of what has happened right now. My body moves on autopilot. I need to get out of here, to be as far away from all of this mess as I possibly can. It doesn’t feel as good as I thought it would. Killing the man who killed my mom. And my dad. I blow out a breath, blinking away the emotions inside me.

“Aurora.” Romeo calls out for me, his authority clear. As it always is.

I keep walking. He’s part of what I need to leave behind. I’m not cut out for this life and I certainly have more respect for myself than to be with a man so willing to think the worst of me.

His hand lands on my shoulder, forcing me to a stop. I turn toward him, automatically pulling my arm up and aiming the gun that is still in my hand at his head. The sound of every gun in the warehouse being lifted and cocked echoes around the room. It doesn’t scare me, even knowing they are all aimed at me.

Unfazed by the gun pointing at him, Romeo doesn’t flinch. A single tear falls down my cheek and I swipe it away angrily. “I hate you,” I spit out. Sniffing, I flex my fingers around the gun, setting my jaw as I continue, “I’m going to walk out of here and you aren’t going to follow me. You’re going to let me leave. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

Shrugging a shoulder, he scrubs a hand over his jaw before confidently saying, “We’ll get you medical attention first and then you can go.”

I scream out, the sound guttural and raw, laced with my frustration and pain. I’m done with not being listened to. With not being heard. I press the barrel of the gun into his forehead.

He holds up his hands, his eyes never leaving mine even as he commands, “Put your weapons down.”

“Do you think I won’t pull the trigger?” I swallow, a sudden wave of nausea throwing me off. “Did you not see what I just did to my so-called family? Do you think that just because you gave me a few orgasms, you mean anything to me?”

A fire ignites in his eyes, turning the inky blue depths even darker. “I saw, mia amato. I fucking saw. And if it would make you feel better to hurt me, then go ahead.”

I blow out a breath through my nose as spots appear in my vision. Adjusting my grip on the gun, I tilt my head. My voice comes out small and distant. “You think that’s what I want?”

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