Page 77 of Sweet Misery

I wasn’t sure if Massimo was still alive. My heart ached at not knowing.

As much as it had pained me to play opossum on the floor while hearing Sever scream for me, I knew it was our only chance.

The guys were trying so hard to figure out a way to take their father out. The thought struck me right before I was dunked beneath the water that I was the one with the best chance. Massimo had trained me best he could with what time we had. I had a weapon. I was already dead, so even if this killed me, they guys wouldn’t know that.

I steadied my breathing like Massimo had instructed. Be calm. Have a clear mind. Mean what you say and do what you feel.

I took the tiny breaths beneath the plastic until the SUV stopped moving. When it did, I was carried out and thrown onto something hard and cold. I kept my eyes closed and my breathing low and steady, holding my breath when I needed to.

“Do you want us to stay?” A man with a thick Italian accent called out.

“Send everyone home. Franco. Giovanni. Remain and wait for me in the car. I’ll do this myself,” Don Saconne’s voice called out.

Amadeo Saconne.

That was his name.

A don.

A mortal who was going to find out what it was like to fuck with Misery.

Maybe they should have called me Karma instead.

I’d nit pick about it later.

Amadeo unwrapped me like a birthday present. I felt his eyes on me as he stared. I could barely see him through the slit in my eyelids.

“Such a pity,” he muttered. “Beautiful. A complete waste. Good for nothing.”

He moved away and turned his back to me. We were in a warehouse. It had poor lighting, but I doubted it needed to begood here. Judging by the smell, I wasn’t the first to meet my end beneath the dim flickering lights.

Carefully, I slipped the knife from my hoodie pocket and sat up. Amadeo continued to hum softly as he pulled out various saws and knives from a box. Clearly, this wasn’t his first time.

I knew I didn’t have much time.

I hauled in a deep breath. There wasn’t ever going to be another time to do this. I had to be brave. This was for my guys. My demons in Hell. For me, a victim who was sick of just taking it.

Silently, I moved behind him.

In the neck. Just like Massimo had taught me.

Don’t miss.

My move was quick.

The knife made its way deep into the side of Amadeo’s neck.

He jolted and stumbled backward as I darted aside and grabbed another knife from his arsenal on the table.

With wide eyes, he stared at me as he fell to his knees, garbling for air all while clutching the knife embedding into his neck with one hand and trying to get his gun out with his other hand.

I launched forward and slammed the other knife I’d grabbed straight through his Adam’s apple. His eyes widened.

“They call me Misery,” I whispered into his ear. “Tell me, Amadeo, is it a good name for me?”

He gurgled out a response before falling over, the light fading from his eyes.

I stared down at him for a moment before pulling the knife Sever had given me from his neck with a squelching sound, the blood flowing freely from the ugly wound.

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