Page 16 of Cara
I renounce relation.
To me… he is just another traitor.
“Xavier!”
“I won’t gag you,” I seethe, shaking violently as something utterly evil overtakes my body. “I want to hear youscream. I want to watch the blood drain out of your veins, see the life leave your eyes.”
He’s horrified, crying out as I twist the blade before tearing it out. I turn my face, but not before a wetness splatters across my skin. I don’t bother to wipe it. Tears leak down his cheeks. He can’t bear to look at me.
“Son, stop! Stop this now!”
“I'm not your son.” I shake my head. “Your son died. He died years ago. Months ago. Yesterday. The man you see now carefully planned this moment while you lost your grip, and he did it with pleasure.”
Arturo Marcello lets out a sob, his leg twitching as I glidethe blade over his chest, leaning close to him. “This is what you always wanted. This is what you sought so hard to get. All of theagonyyou put me through. How does it feel? Was it worth it? Is this the end you saw for yourself?”
My father begins to pray. It’s almost laughable. That such a monster would resort to the Divine in a moment as sinful as this.
“God won’t save you. Not from me.”
His eyes meet mine, swarmed with rage and terror in equal measure. “If only your precious Sophia could see you now…”
My lips dip with disgust.
He chose words that would cut deep, pull me from the depths. I turn from him to the array of blunt objects, closing my eyes, forbidding her face from my mind.
Murderous enough that breathing is difficult to manage, I cast Sophie Marcello from my thoughts and switch to my weapon of choice. A cleaver.
His eyes widen.
His wrists shake against the restraints.
His legs buckle.
He begins to scream for help.
If only your precious Sophia could see you now…
“She isn’t here,” I whisper. “You made sure of that.”
Xavier
His breaths are short, stunted.
Shallow gasps, each one fainter than the last.
With my jacket gone, tie loosened, I hover over my father, damp clothes clinging to my skin. Bloody sleeves are rolled to my elbows, streaked in carnage. The door’s been struck twice, but no one dares to enter. Not without consent.
Arturo’s eyes actually shake, his gaze far beyond this place.
He’s been near death for over an hour.
The blind rage that possessed my hands has faded in the time I’ve spent watching him struggle to breathe. Darkness is in my blood, in my lineage, but this was beyond that.
My hands tremble, the blade slipping from my stiff fingers, clanging onto the cold slab. Too weak to stand, I hold myself up with the edge of the table.
The longer I watch him fight for oxygen, the more I want to switch places with him.
There was a moment. Just one ear-shattering scream that told me it would be the last he would ever utter and my fluid hands slowed to a stop, my vision clearing the crimson fury I was unleashing.
