Page 69 of Sinful Lies

“Did you forget our little conversation the other night? Or do you need reminding?”

Giovanni lifts his head just enough to look at me, his gray eyes bloodshot as he bares his teeth.

“You can’t protect her,” he hisses.

“Watch me.” I ball my hand into a fist, slamming it into his jaw.

His head snaps to the side, and I grunt as I flex my fingers.

Fuck, that felt good.

Giovanni spits bloody drool onto the floor, and I laugh at how pathetic he looks.

“You really thought you could get away with touching my girl?” I reach into my pocket, pulling out a six-inch blade.

Putting a bullet in his head would be an easy way out. He deserves to suffer.

Giovanni only grins at the sight of the blade.

“Couldn’t help myself when her thighs are so soft?—”

His words have me seeing red.

I’m all too aware of how close he got to Zara, and I will no doubt remember the look on her face, the fear in her eyes, for the rest of my life.

I lash out, slicing my blade across his face, narrowly missing his eye.

“You started without me.” Mikhail snaps me out of my fury.

I turn to look at my younger brother over my shoulder.

“Trust me, there will be ample opportunity to get your hands dirty with this fucker.”

A cruel smile tugs at Mikhail’s lips as he glances at Giovanni, taking in the blood now pouring down the side of his face.

“I look forward to it.” He cracks his knuckles.

After an hour, Mikhail and I are both panting, covered in blood and sweat as Giovanni’s body leaks blood onto the concrete floor. He’s still alive, but not for much longer if we keep going.

Mikhail spits at him. “Remind me why we can’t kill him?”

“The headache isn’t worth it. But trust me, once I’m finished, he’s going to wish he was dead. There’s just one more thing I want to do…” I muse, cracking my neck from side to side and picking up a sledgehammer from the corner. “Tell me Giovanni, are you right or left-handed?”

Mikhail looks at me as if I’ve lost my damn mind, but I hold up a finger, silently instructing him to hold back.

“L-left,” he groans, lifting his head just enough to look at me.

His dark hair is matted with blood, and his right eye has completely swollen shut.

Mikhail scoffs. “Fucking liar.”

“Untie his right hand.”

Mikhail does as I say, and Giovanni’s eyes widen as I take hold of his wrist.

“P-please?—”

I don’t give Giovanni a chance to finish before I smash the sledgehammer to his wrist.

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