Page 145 of Brutal Legacy

“Sergio… he kissed me… and I nearly bit his lip off,” I admitted.

Elio took a shuddering breath and then pulled me close, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“That’s my good girl. My wife.” He breathed into my hair. “My love.”

My heart clenched hard, and everything else that was going on suddenly felt far away. It was all happening behind thick glass. It couldn’t touch us.

“My love?” I repeated.

“Yes, my love. I’ve thought of you as a lot of things over the years apart… my poison, my betrayer… my killer… but through it all, you were always my love. My one and only everything. Now, I need you to?—”

“I’m not staying here without you! I’m going with you. This time, you’re not leaving me behind. Where you go, I go,” I said determinedly.

Elio stared at me and then smiled. The darkness shifted in the stables, the place where he’d asked me to marry him.

“Abso-fucking-lutely. I’ve learned my lesson. You’re not leaving my side.”

He took my hand in his and threaded our fingers together.

“Let’s finish this.”

Inside the housewas silent as a tomb.

Bodies were strewn across the floor. I stared at the formation.

They were laid out head to toe in a line leading toward the stairs.

An arrow formed of bodies.

I glanced at Elio, horrified.

“This way,” he murmured.

I stayed behind him, and we walked up the stairs. He had a gun at his side, and I could feel his focus. I felt safer than I’d ever felt before, protected by this man.

We reached the top floor and started down the hall. At the end of the passage, at the doorway to my father’s office, two dead bodies were propped up on either wall, their arms stretched out to point at the open doorway. The black rectangle seemed to gape. I was scared to see what was inside.

“Who did this?” I whispered to Elio.

“Massimo. He’s a creative soul.”

A strangled cry sounded from the room before us. Elio squeezed my hand, and then we were stepping inside.

Massimo was sitting at the desk, his feet up, arms behind his head.

“The gang is all here, Sergio. Now, the party can get started.” He grinned at us. “I see you found us easily enough?”

“Your directions helped,” Elio said dryly and checked in the corners of the room.

Everyone was dead, it seemed, except for Sergio. He whimpered somewhere in the room.

Massimo clicked on the desk lamp, and the whole bloody scene came into focus.

Sergio was trapped beneath the desk chair — no, not trapped.

Impaled.

Two legs of the chair seemed to be driven through Sergio’s legs. Two long metal pokers from the fireside were driven through his spread-out arms. He was sprawled out in a cross shape, and Massimo’s weight on the chair made it impossible for him to move.

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