Page 81 of A Sinner's Truth

I don’t say a word. I have nothing to say to this woman. Gio stares at her. “It’s foolish to get in my way,” he warns her.

“You’re just like him, you know. You’re just like your father,” she says, stepping backwards and shaking her head.

Gio laughs. It’s his crazy laugh, and I know if I don’t get him out of here soon, all hell is going to break loose. “You think I’m like that old fuck? Well, there’s your first mistake, because I guarantee you I’m far worse,” he tells her. “You’d know that if you stuck around.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” she says. “He was going to kill you, all of you.”

This time it’s me who laughs. Our father was a fucking asshole, but no way in hell would he have killed his heirs. “Let’s go. Talking to ghosts doesn’t do anyone any good.” I clap my brother on the shoulder and guide him forward.

We walk out of the clubhouse without a backwards glance. It’s not until we’re in the car that I notice the way Gio’s hand is shaking. Seeing our mother alive and breathing has affected him.

“That was… fucked,” I say.

“What the fuck is she doing alive? She’s supposed to be dead,” he groans.

“Probably anotherfuck youfrom the old man. No way he didn’t know.” I shake my head.

“Some people need to stay dead. She’s one of them. I don’t want her around my family,” Gio tells me.

“I agree.”

It isn’t until we pull up to the warehouse that I finally feel like I’m about to get what I’ve been craving for the last week. Fucking blood on my hands. The guys have Oliver tied to a chair in the middle of the room.

I walk up and squat down right in front of him. “You know who I am?”

“You’re the asshole who stole my fiancée,” he says.

My fist lands on his jaw. Hard. “She was never yours. She will never be yours,” I tell him.

“If I can’t have her, I’m going to make sure you can’t either,” he spits.

I rise to my full height, throw my head back, and laugh. This fucker has no sense of self-preservation. “You see, I don’t like it very much when someone threatens my wife. I like it even less when they fire a bullet at her,” I tell him. Then I turn around, pull my gun from the holster, and shoot his right foot. He screams like the little bitch he is, and I smile. “What’s a matter? Not so tough now, huh?” I pull the trigger and put a matching hole in his other foot.

“Fuck you, asshole!” he yells.

“No,fuck you.” This time, I get his right hand, quickly followed by his left. I walk around the chair. “These holes in your hands and feet remind me of something. I can’t for the life of me remember what it is, though.” I stop in my tracks and tilt my head at him. “Wait, I got it. It’s Jesus. He had holes in his hands and feet, but he also had a crown of thorns and a cross—don’t have any of those hanging around here but I can improvise.”

I drop my gun on the table, pick up the razor wire, and walk back over to Oliver, who is fighting consciousness. Pressing the wire into the middle of his forehead, I wrap the other end around his entire head as tight as I can. Blood drips down his face.

“There. That’s better. If only you were going to the same place. Instead, you’re headed straight to fucking hell.” I grab my pistol again and aim it at the fucker’s head. “See you there, motherfucker,” I grunt before putting a hole between his bloodshot eyes.

I don’t bask in the kill like I usually would. Instead, I walk over to the sink and scrub my palms clean. I wanted his blood on my hands, but I can’t go home looking like this. Aria will freak the fuck out, and I don’t want to do anything to scare her.

“You went easy on him,” Gio says.

“I’ve got a wife waiting for me at home,” I grunt in reply.

“Let’s get out of here then.” He strolls out of the room, and I follow him.

“So, did you see her?” Vin calls out from the back seat as soon as Gio pulls away from the warehouse.

“See who?” I ask him.

“Mum?” he says.

“Our mother is dead, Vincenzo. She died the day she handed us over to that asshole without bothering to look back. And she’s going to stay dead,” Gio tells him.

“So, she is alive?” he presses, and Gio snaps.

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