Page 109 of Sweet Prison

I steal a quick look at Massimo, who’s now staring at me over his shoulder. There’s no mistaking the order in his eyes.Lie, Zahara,they say.

I swallow and immediately turn my glare to Salvo. “Yes.”

“But you told me that you love him. Was that because of Massimo’s threats, as well?”

I nod.

“Well… It does sound like something he’d actually do. Perhaps I will spare you. Killing him and taking his empire… and then the woman he loves? Yeah, that sounds—No. Maybe death isn’t the worst punishment for him…” He grins, returning his attention to Massimo. “What if I told you I’ll only let Zara live if you admit to the Council that you’re not fit for the role of the don? You step down and name me your successor. And then, you leave the country, knowing that I have everything that was once yours. You can die miserably in some fucking ditch, for all I care. ’Cause, that’s where you belong!”

“I’ll do it!”

Massimo’s words thunder across the space. Once. Twice. They echo inside the silent tomb, as if spoken by a chorus of voices. Bouncing off the granite walls. Reverberating through my mind. Over and over again. My lungs constrict as I process his meaning. His choice isme. He’s choosing me over Cosa Nostra.

Laughter rings out from Salvo once more, but it’s not a happy sound. It’s something deranged. And sick. It makes goose bumps break out all over my skin.

“My… my… You really are a goner.”

“I’ll do anything you want. Anything,” Massimo growls. “Do whatever you want with me, but please, let Zahara go.”

“Please?” Salvo lifts his brows, then cackles. “Massimo Spadabegging? That’s a first.”

“Yes, I am. Please, Salvo.”

“Oh, I love the sound of your pleading way too much.” He takes a step to the side and levels his gun on me. “I want you to kneel, Massimo. Kneel and beg for her life.”

“No,” I choke out. He can’t do it! He can’t!

My insides twist into knots, settling in the pit of my stomach like a giant boulder as I watch in horror as Massimo drops to his knees.

“Please,” he rasps. “I beg you. Please, Salvo.”

I can’t keep the tears at bay anymore. They well in my eyes and slide down my cheeks as I stare at the man I love. I’ve always been in awe of his pride. No matter what he faced, Massimo has always walked with his head held high, his shoulders back, and his spine locked straight as steel. Now though, he’s slumped on the floor in front of this bastard. On his knees. Begging. For my life.

“This is pure heaven.” Salvo inhales loudly, like a man sniffing his next line of cocaine. Stepping forward, he points his gun at Massimo’s chest. “Now I’m glad that fucker of an ex-con failed. If he’d managed to pop you at the mall, I would have missed this.” Manic scorn saturates his expression and his tone. “Hell! It’s so damn hard to find competent help these days, right? I mean, I led him straight to you with the tracker, but the dimwit couldn’t finish a simple job.” His face contorts again as he clenches his jaw. “I betyourlittle helper never let you down,” he almost whispers. “Zara! Go wait for me outside. I want to be the only witness to Massimo Spada taking his last breath. It’s an image that’ll keep me warm at night. Along with you.”

“You said you’d let him live!” I cry out, stumbling toward the kneeling Massimo.

“Did I?” Salvo cocks his head. “No, I don’t think I did. Out! Now!”

“Zahara.” Massimo’s voice makes me shudder. “I need you to leave.”

Swallowing a whimper, I turn to face him. Dark-as-night eyes bore into mine, and I wonder how they can look at mewith such softness, yet hold so much ferocity in their depths at the same time. Massimo has always been a mix of extreme contradictions. And his gaze has never reflected that as clearly as it does now. Rage and calmness. Unwavering resolve and absolute chaos.

“Go,” he says.Trust me, his eyes add.

Slowly, I nod. “I’ll wait outside.”

With legs made of lead, I trudge toward the door, keeping my hands behind my back to hide the cut bonds. Every step away from Massimo is an agony I can barely bear, but I urge myself forward.

“She’ll learn to obey me, too,” Salvo sneers as I pass him. “Very soon.”

I exit the mausoleum and press my back to the outside wall next to the door. The tip of my fabric scissors, hidden inside my sleeve, digs into my forearm. It’s a useless weapon against a gun, but I kept them with me regardless.

“Any last words, Massimo?” Salvo’s condescending voice carries from inside.

“Yes.”

The silence stretches, the void ominous in the darkness. My pulse skyrockets as all I can do is madly clutch the scissors to my galloping heart. Waiting. I’m not even sure what for.

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