Page 60 of Scar

A protective hand goes around my abdomen, as I encase the growing life inside me with the warmth of my heart. I could never hurt my child the way that Benita has hurt her sons. I could never. I would never. Knowing what’s coming, the inevitable outcome of this showdown, makes my heart swell with anxiety. Scar is so angry, but I wonder what will happen if he lets his anger overwhelm him. Will he be able to live with himself if he goes too far in the war with Benita? I fear that he will have regrets and allow this one defining moment to affect him for the rest of his life. Anything he does now could ruin him forever; my heart pounds with this knowledge and I send up a quiet prayer for him to only mete out the punishment that he can ultimately live with.

A sense of profound sadness overwhelms me. There’s nothing I would have wanted more than to have my children grow up with two sets of grandparents. I would have wanted that more than anything, but Benita ruined her own chances of ever having anything to do with any child of ours. She can’t be trusted. And I would never want her influence over my children, ever.

I watch every action, every conflict as it crosses their faces, every nuance, with bated breath; I can’t even start to contemplate the outcome of this dual. The other occupants of the house are all but forgotten as Rafi and I sit and watch as Scar corners his mother in the room, his expression murderous.

When Scar drops to the floor with a swift, lethal grace and sweeps his mother’s leg out from under her, my breath hitches. Benita crumples, and for a heartbeat, I can see the surprise etched on her face. It’s a fleeting moment, but it’s there—a crack in the armor of the formidable matriarch.

As Scar pins her to the ground, my chest constricts. I know that look in his eyes, the one that chills me to the bone. The monster he’s kept at bay, the darkness I’ve seen only glimpses of, now fully unleashed. I watch as his hand wraps around his mother’s throat, her struggles futile against his iron grip.

My pulse quickens, a mix of fear and a strange, twisted sense of relief. The woman who has haunted Scar’s nightmares, who has caused so much pain, is finally facing her reckoning. But as Scar leans in, his face inches from hers, I feel a pang of something deeper, something almost like sorrow. Not for Benita, but for the boy Scar once was, the child who lost so much.

“He’s going to kill her,” Rafi whispers, so quiet I had almost forgotten he is in the room, sitting at the computer desk, monitoring the cameras.

“Rafi…maybe you shouldn’t watch,” I plead with him. It’s a given that Scar will probably kill his mother; I just don’t know how this is going to ultimately affect the boys.

Rafi shakes his head without moving his eyes from the screen.

“Rafi…come on,” I urge. “I can take over.”

“I won’t believe it unless I see it,” he tells me. As though this is the moment he’s been waiting for.

The damage Benita has caused her sons is immeasurable. For them to want her dead, she’s really left a stain upon their broken hearts. I wonder if she had come back into their lives with purer intentions, would they have given her a chance? Would they have tried to make amends and live in peace? Would Benita then have stabbed them in the back like she’s done before? Is that where their hostility towards their mother stems from? There’s just no knowing, and I guess we’ll never get the chance to find out as the fight continues, and Scar takes another swipe at his mother.

She claws at his arm, her defiance flickering one last time. The words they exchange are lost to me without the luxury of sound, but I don’t need to hear them to understand. I can see the finality in Scar’s movements, the resolve in his gaze. When he drives the knife into his mother’s chest, my breath leaves me in a rush. The woman’s body jerks, her life ebbing away, and Scar’s face is a mask of cold fury. Rafi flinches next to me but says nothing as he exhales a breath that feels like it’s been held in for years.

Tears spill down my cheeks, a mix of emotions I can’t fully untangle. I feel the weight of Scar’s past, the burden of his mother’s betrayal, and the haunting echo of loss. As the room on the screen falls silent, I wipe my eyes, trying to steady my racing heart.

Scar stands slowly, the knife slipping from his grasp, a valiant warrior coming home from war. I feel a rush of love and sorrow for him. The war for his family is far from over, but in this moment, he’s freed himself from one ghost of his past. He’s ensured that the burden of his mother’s presence and her calculated ways won’t touch any of his family members ever again.

I watch him, my heart aching for the man I love; no matter how much he wanted it, killing his own flesh and blood is probably the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.

CHAPTER 53 – SCAR

The stories I grew up hearing about my mother shattered the idealized image I had of her. Despite knowing the truth, I couldn't shake off the romanticized version of her that I held onto. Our father did his best to protect us from her, but he soon understood that she was the true danger - a devil in disguise. She tried to worm her way back into our lives, but we always shut her out and eventually she disappeared from our world.

I can't hold any resentment towards my father - he did everything he could for us. It was our mother who destroyed our chances at having a normal family life. Her betrayal tore us apart and left my father as a single parent raising four boys instead of five. She was always good at putting us down, especially me. She was like a storm we didn't understand, even when she was present in our lives - which wasn't often. We learned to rely on each other instead of her.

When Christiano died, we not only lost a brother but also our mother in many ways. Years later, we discovered that she had been sent away because she caused Christiano's death.

After she left, my father changed for the better. He became stronger and filled the void left by my mother's absence. He never remarried and did an incredible job raising us on his own while leading the mafia.

My mother's sharp voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I feel a chill run through my blood. She's standing so close to me now and all I want is for this encounter to be over. Themost unsettling thing is how similar we look - I inherited her features but unfortunately also a part of her dark heart. This ruthless nature has served me well in our violent world, but it's not something I want to pass down to my own children. They deserve the best version of me that doesn't have any trace of their grandmother's heartlessness.

“I won’t let you destroy what’s rightfully mine,” she hisses, her eyes blazing with fury and desperation.

“You won’t have to,” I reply calmly, my voice icy. She won't have the chance to ruin anything because I plan on destroying her first. This was never hers to begin with; when she was banished, my father gave her a generous payout under the condition that she never return or contact us again. She broke that agreement, and now she faces death.

“You won’t get away with this,” she snarls, her eyes blazing with anger and desperation.

“I have no intention of letting you destroy what is rightfully mine,” I reply calmly, my voice icy. She won't have the chance to ruin anything because I plan on destroying her first. This was never hers to begin with; when she was banished, my father gave her a generous payout under the condition that she never return or contact us again. She broke that agreement, and now she faces death.

In one swift motion, I drop to the ground and sweep her legs out from under her. She hits the floor with a thud and drops the knife she was holding. She tries to get up, but I am faster. As she scrambles for the knife, I kick it away and pounce on her, fueled by pent-up rage. Her betrayal consumes my thoughts; all the damage she has caused and lives she has tried to destroy. My hand clamps tightly around her throat as she struggles beneath me.

The monster inside of me, tamed by Allegra, has been unleashed by my mother's actions. It rises within me, ready to unleash chaos.

Her nails dig into my arm, but I barely feel it. My focus is unbreakable. I move in close, seeing fear in her eyes - fear that she can't hide. She probably never imagined her life ending like this, at the hands of her own son.

“You thought you could come back and take everything from me?” I growl menacingly. “You thought you could just walk in and take over? You're nothing but a ghost from the past, and I am more than ready to bury you.”

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