Page 19 of Filthy Little Games

“It’s a shame I have to do this, but it’s your own fucking fault,” he says into my ear before he rips my towel off me and squeezesmy bare breast. “God, I’m going to miss fucking your filthy mouth and cunt.”

My heart seizes up in a panic. What if this was Ferraro’s plan all along? Let Izaiah kill me, then he only has to kill Izaiah.

“Might as well have you one last time…”

The distinct sound of a gun being cocked interrupts his plans. I feel Izaiah’s entire body stiffen behind me, sending one hell of a thrill through my soul.

“Drop the knife, Rovina.”

If I thought Ferraro’s voice was scary earlier, it’s nothing compared to the amount of venom in it now.

Izaiah isn’t the smartest man, but he is a vicious don’s son and not going down without a fight. He pulls the knife from my neck.

Instinctively, I drop to my knees, getting as low as I can, and scurry away to watch the show.

Ferraro looks like an enraged god when he slams his fist into Izaiah’s face, then easily ducks Izaiah’s sloppily slashing knife over and over again. His clothes receive a few tears, but I don’t see any blood.

What is he waiting for? Izaiah to slice his throat, then mine?

“Shoot him already!” I shout impatiently.

Finally, Ferraro spins around and slips behind Izaiah. With his arm banded across Izaiah’s chest, pinning his arms to his sides, he lifts the gun and presses the silencer to Izaiah’s temple with the other.

But he doesn’t pull the trigger.

Both men are now facing me, and it feels like time is standing still.

Ferraro’s eyes meet mine with something like uncertainty in them, while Izaiah’s gaze holds nothing but murder and contempt. If I had to guess, Ferraro is either worried about me being a witness or whether Izaiah deserves to die.

“Look away, Zara.”

I can’t look anywhere but at the final ending of one of my worst nightmares. And Ferraro hesitates a second too long.

There’s no time to even warn him before Izaiah slams his knife into the side of Ferraro’s thigh once, twice.

The don barely flinches. His gun goes off with one soft puff of air.

When Ferraro releases his hold on Izaiah, he drops. His knees hit the ground, followed by his upper body, leaving his lifeless form lying face down on my apartment floor.

It’s over.

It’s finally done.

Izaiah Rovina is dead.

If I’m about to meet my end, too, at least I won’t have to worry about him touching me or my daughter ever again.

6

Creed

Once we find out who’s responsible for Carmine’s death, we need to carefully plan our revenge.

Don’t lash out impulsively.

Everyone better keep their heads nice and cool, especially with the gun charges already hanging over our heads.

Those were my words, spoken to not just Dre, Tristan, and Lorenzo, but dozens of my hot-headed men over the last few days.

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