Page 166 of Villainous Kingpin
His bones crunched under my knuckles and nothing ever sounded so fucking good.
Gio’s beady eyes found me, and for the first time in my life, that cruelty in his gaze was replaced by fear. Angelo’s dead body lay limp next to him. The only reason he got a fast death was because he let Wynter go when she came out of the house bruised and bloody. Rather than force her back in for Gio to finish her off.
“She wasn’t your wife at that time,” he tried to reason in a hoarse voice. It only pissed me off more.
Dante, Sasha, Priest, and Uncle watched from their spot against the wall, letting me have this moment. For nine months, I went crazy, hunting every Russian bastard in a hundred miles radius.
It was all his fault.
I dragged him off the floor and shoved him into a chair, then tied him up. He attempted to struggle. Unsuccessfully.
“It’s time for you to get a taste of your own medicine, Father.” The last word tasted bitter on my tongue.
Images of him attempting to rape my wife played in my mind on repeat. How scared she probably was. She didn’t have a single cruel bone in her body and that bastard tried to force himself on her. He lied to her, letting her believe that I knew about it, knew about who she really was.
No fucking wonder she ran.
With my knife, I leaned closer to him and smiled cruelly as I pressed the blade against his skin and sliced it across his chest. His blood trailed down his bare skin as he begged for mercy.
“Did you show my wife mercy?” I snarled. She waited for me, in my place, where she should have been safe and my father fucking attacked her. “Did you show my mother mercy?” I smashed my fist into his side. “Or Emory?”
“I gave you everything,” he spurted out, blood trickling down his mouth
Another fist into his nose. “Or any other woman?” I punched him again.
I sliced his forearm. Then his ear. His thighs. His finger. The memory of the voice in my head while I searched for Wynter was too fresh. Too raw. He almost cost me my woman.
Another few hours of torturing him and my breathing heaved. I felt blood splatters on my face, my hands were soaked with my father’s blood. I wasn’t back to one hundred percent but this was too good to miss. Too good to shorten.
My cell phone rang and I glanced at it.
Wynter’s grinning face greeted me. My wife was calling.
“Principessa,” I answered. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes. I was just wondering if you’ll be coming home soon?” Such a simple question. Yet it gave me the best feeling in the world. Coming home to her was the highlight of every scenario.
“I’ll be home soon,” I told her. “Is Emory with you?’
My body screamed for rest. We’d been at this for the past twenty-four hours. Our wedding turned bloody after all, just as Emory predicted. Except in the best way possible.
She chuckled. “Yes, her and the girls. And my mom.”
Good, I didn’t want her to be alone.
“Your uncle’s men watching the house?” I asked her.
My men guarded her too, but for the first time, I didn't mind reinforcements.
“Yes, it’s like a military base.”
“Good, I’ll see you soon.”
I ended the call and looked at the bloodied state of my father. He wasn’t worth any more of my time.
Turning around, I held out the knife to Sasha. I was grateful he took care of Wynter after her attack, but there was a part of me that still envied it. It should have been me helping her heal, easing her wounds.
Sasha pushed away from the wall and walked up to me. Taking the knife from me, he nodded then stared down at my father.
