Page 51 of Savage Heart

He stands from behind the desk and points his finger at me. “You always were too self-important for your own good, Sienna. I told our father not to let you go to school in the States. I told him you’d get ideas in your head about what you should be doing. Clearly, I was right. Complain all you want, but you will do as I say. I’m the head of this family, and as the head, I make the decisions.”

I can’t stop my laughter, which only enrages him more. “What a ridiculous man you are. As if I didn’t think these same ideas right here the entire time I was growing up. What century is it in your world, Matteo? Because it’s the twenty-first century in the real world, and as I know I told you before, women have rights here in Italy as much as they do in America.”

With a wave of his hand, he dismisses the truth he doesn’t want to accept. “You’re in a different place now, Sienna. You made a mistake coming here today. I don’t know what you thought would happen, but you’re not leaving here. So much for your twenty-first century rights and power.”

My heart slams into my chest at the possibility that I overplayed my hand by coming here. If I did, then I need to find a way out, but he needed to hear what I had to say.

“You won’t keep me here, Matteo.”

My gaze darts around the room as I look for anything I can use as a weapon. He doesn’t want to kill me. I’m far too valuable as a pawn he can use to get money. I just need to find something that I can use to get away.

He takes a step around his desk so he’s mere feet away, and I know I have to come up with a way to defend myself. However stupid this may have been, I’m not going to be his to marry off to whatever asshole friend with money he thinks will best help him.

No fucking way.

Matteo reaches out to grab my arm, and just then, I spy the perfect weapon sitting on the top of the desk. I quickly lean over the chair in front of me and grab the metal scissors. At the first touch of his rough fingers on my wrist, I launch into action, my brain focused on a single thought.

I will not spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.

He begins to say something about coming with him, and a second later, I plunge those scissors into his forearm with as much velocity as I can manage. My brother cries out in pain, staring down at the silver handles sticking out of his arm. I don’t know how far I jabbed them into his skin, but the sound coming out of his mouth makes me think I did enough damage to stop him.

At least long enough for me to get away.

“You fucking cunt! I swear to God I’m going to kill you for this!” he bellows, and for the first time since I came back to this house, I’m afraid.

His eyes flash pure rage, and his fingers stay clamped down on my wrist, making it impossible to escape. I have to do something or he’s going to kill me, just as he swore he would. My mind whirls with a mixture of pure fear and the need to survive. I can’t find anything else to hurt him with. There’s a pen on the desk, but that won’t do the job.

In a flash, my mind fills with a single image of what I need to do to get myself away from him. As he squeezes my arm harder and screams in pain, I reach over and yank the scissors from his arm. Blood sprays up from the wound, and I only have seconds before he lashes out at me.

My fingers clutch those scissors covered in blood so hard my palm hurts, but I have a single focus. I stare at the spot on his body where I have to hit and thrust my hand forward.

The feel of the scissors plunging into his skin radiates through me, but this second time it’s different. The flesh on his neck just below his ear is thinner and less muscular than his forearm, and the weapon sinks in far smoother than the first time I stabbed him.

This time is so much bloodier too, and I’m covered in seconds as his jugular explodes out of his neck. Matteo’s eyes stare at me in horror, wide open and full of shock at what’s happened to him. I watch as he collapses to the floor at my feet, blood spraying everywhere on his way down.

The sight is nothing short of grotesque. The scissors, now blood red instead of silver, stick out of his neck like some horrible foreign addition to his body. His eyes remain fixed in a look of complete terror, as if the last thing he saw before leaving this world was the sight of the devil himself.

I step back in disbelief, shaking my head as my entire body trembles uncontrollably. I killed my brother. I’m a killer, just like him and just like the hitman he ordered to end my life.

In the distance, I hear someone yell, but I can’t move. It’s like I’m frozen to the spot where I committed this awful deed. Like this is where I must spend the rest of my life in penance for killing my own brother.

“Sienna! Where are you?”

I recognize the voice as Alaric’s, but even knowing he’s here to help me, I can’t move. I’m trapped in this room filled with my guilt while my victim stares up at me in abject horror.

“Sienna!” he calls out, and I turn to see him standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock.

“Holy fuck! What happened?” he asks as he rushes in to take me into his arms.

For a split second, I think about telling him not to touch me because of the blood, but I can’t seem to say the words, so I collapse into his protective hold. I should be crying as I bury my face in his chest, but the tears don’t come.

Alaric tilts my head back so I have to look up at him. In his dark eyes, I see genuine concern that seems misplaced since I’m still alive and my victim lays dead at our feet in a pool of blood.

“Baby, are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks in a soft voice.

I shake my head, still unable to find any words. Alaric’s hands feel so warm on my face, like he’s living and I’m nothing but the cold shell of a person now.

“We need to get out of here. I’ll get you out of the country today. I won’t let them take you in for this, Sienna. I promise.”

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