“Now, I thought about cutting out your tongue but not hearing you scream would be no fun for me. And to be honest, I feel as though we deserve to hear them.” I stabbed him a third time, on the other side of his spine that time. “How does it feel to be stabbed in the back?”
“Ana, you’re mine! You’ve always been mine!” This fucker was getting on my last nerve.
“What would I want with a rotting corpse?!” I ran my blade up his arm to his pinky as I gripped it between my fingers. I sliced through his skin, flesh, and bone before discarding it on the floor.
“You always loved me! You just didn’t give us time,” he screamed and panted through the pain. Spit trickled down his chin as tears stained his cheeks.
Moving across to his ring finger, I repeated the same process—skin, flesh, bone.
“Tell me, Lorenzo, is fucking her tight pussy as good as I always imagined it would be?” Chad laughed as Lorenzo stepped forward. I moved aside instantly, wanting to see his anger unfold.
“You sick bastard,” he snarled as he accepted the knife from my hand.
Without hesitation, Lorenzo leaned forward, his movements deliberate and precise. He pressed the blade against Chad’s cheek, just below the eye, and began to carve. The skin parted with sickening ease, the blade slicing through flesh and muscle as if it were butter. Chad’s body jerked violently, but Red was there in a split second, keeping Chad’s head immobile as Lorenzo worked.
“A Chelsea smile,” Lorenzo murmured, his voice almost tender, as if he was admiring a work of art. “Absolutely beautiful.”
“I’ve never seen you look better.” I chuckled, enjoying the sight of blood gushing from Chad’s face. “There’s a special place in hell reserved for you. But then again, hell might be too good for someone like you.” I squeezed his wounded cheeks between my fingers and thumb as his lips pursed in pain. “Now, be a good boy, and beg me to kill you.”
“I-I’ll n-n-never,” he stuttered, my grasp cutting off his words, as he fought the urge to slip into unconsciousness.
“That’s a shame, it really is. Red, do you want to give him a little incentive?” I asked, stepping aside.
Without another word, Red released Chad’s head, grabbing the bat from the ground. “I know it’s not original or anything, but fuck, it’s going to be fun.” Red beamed, excited in a way I had never seen before. The bat flashed through the air with a loud swoosh before knocking out Chad’s front teeth. I watched as they scattered to the floor like Tic Tacs.
“Nobody, and I repeat nobody, disrespects our Ana like that!” Red glanced over at me, nodding his head in awe’ve got your backkind of way.
“Before I kill this sorry excuse of a man, is everyone satisfied?” I asked, bringing my blade to Chad’s neck.
“We are if you are,” they spoke in unison, looking so damn proud.
Iwassatisfied, and I was ready to end him once and for all.
“Any last words?” I slapped his cheek, the sound echoing around us.
“Fu—” he spluttered, clearly in too much pain to continue.
“Fuck you? How original and creative.” I scoffed.
I fisted his hair, yanking his head back to expose his neck. I pressed my blade into his skin, watching the blood slowly seepfrom the wound. I leaned into him, bringing my lips to his ear as I whispered, “Keep your eyes open. I want them to be the last ones you see as you take your final breath.”
He obeyed, his gaze locked on the surrounding men, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. With a swift, fluid motion, I drew the blade across his throat. The sound was sickeningly wet. A sharp hiss as the metal sliced through skin and muscle, exposing the raw, bloody flesh beneath.
Chad’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth opening in a silent scream as blood gushed from the wound, hot and thick, spilling over my hand and dripping onto the floor. I didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. Instead, I watched him, my expression unreadable as his body convulsed, his hands straining against the binds.
As Chad’s struggles weakened, my eyes never left his face. His body slumped forward, his life slipping away. I stepped back, my boots leaving faint prints in the pool of red spreading across the floor.
The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the faint drip of blood and the distant hum of the single light overhead. My chest rose and fell steadily as I surveyed my handiwork. I did what needed to be done. What I had imagined doing while I was locked in that room. There was no regret, no hesitation. Only a quiet satisfaction, and a sense of closure.
“Are you ready to go?” Lorenzo asked, resting his hand on the small of my back. “The guys will dispose of him.”
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
29
Ten years ago…
Betrayal wassomething I never thought I’d encounter, especially not at the hands of my ally and best friend, Franco Ricci. But that night changed everything, it changed me.