Page 22 of Bittersweet Endings
“Now,” I repeated, voice low and coiled tight. “Or I swear on your mother’s grave, you’ll regret everypatheticlittle decision you’ve ever made in your useless fucking life.”
The dead-man-walking just shrugged, red dripping down his chin.
The brunette, eyes still calm, said, “I’ll take that as my cue to exit.” She smiled, patting Lorenzo’s chest as she passed. “Have a great night.Pleasure,” she purred, “doing business with you.”
Lorenzo watched her go, groaning like a kicked dog. “Please, Carmine. Let me go. You don’t need me?—”
“You’re staying,” I growled.
Lorenzo whined again, but didn’t move. He knew better. As soon as we were done, he’d find her.
“Where. Is. He.” I pulled the blade from the back of my waistband, steel flashing in the low light. I leaned in, real close, letting him see the kind of man he’d decided to fuck with. “Maybe you don’t know a lot about me,” I said, dragging the point down the side of his jaw.
He flinched. I smiled. Lorenzo laughed. Matteo stepped closer.
“Ah... you do know me.” I smiled wider, almost feral. “Tell me, what made you so fucking stupid to believe you could survive me?” I laughed, low and cruel.
“Dumb motherfucker.” Lorenzo chuckled at his back, making him jump.
“I always get what I want. Doesn’t matter what. Tears, blood,or broken bones. I get it. Even if I have to rip it from your throat while you scream for that piece of shit who filled you with broken promises.”
“H-he’s in New York,” the idiot stammered, tears sliding free. “A-at least I think he is?—”
“Youthink?” I balked. Without waiting, I slashed a deep, clean line across his chest. He screamed and curled forward. Lorenzo pulled him back.
“H-he was going to pick up some bitch,” he sobbed. “Said he’d call me when he had her and then he’d talk next steps.”
“What were they? The next steps?” I stuck the blade under his chin, pressed lightly. “Speak.”
“H-he didn’t tell me! Just that he needed some bitch first, some party in a few days. And then they’d fly out here to meet me.”
“Wow. Ballsy.” Lorenzo chuckled, earning himself a glare. “Grab the girl. Have her watch you die and then escape. Seems like he thought he had bigger balls…”
“Give me something. Call him and find out where he is.”
“I-I… I don’t have his information. He was going to contact me when he was ready. Check my cell. Maybe he called?”
I grabbed the phone from his pocket and eyed the screen. There were no missed calls or messages. “Then you’re of no use to me.” I cocked back a fist and nailed him in the jaw with a left hook.
His world turned on its axis as I lost my sanity. In my head, images of Octavia’s scarred stomach spurned me forward. Over and over, I slashed him across the stomach, delivering the same pain.
And I had a plan to draw this out. To send a fucking message that I’d be one step ahead. That no matter what he tried, he wasn’t going to get her.
The way she froze up when I touched her stomach. The way she wanted to drown herself in the ocean. That crazy look she gave me right before she swallowed my cock and stabbed my thigh…
“Carmine. Carmine!” Matteo’s hand on my shoulder made me stop. “Calm down. He’s dead.”
“Fuck!” I roared, standing upright and aggressively punching the wall. I looked over at his mangled body, resembling a puddle of flesh, blood, and broken bones. Unrecognizable. And yet it did nothing to dwindle my rage. “Pack him. Send him to Mario,” I ordered. “Give him a clear message.”
Lorenzo just looked at me. “Meaning?”
“He can’t keep fucking up.” Not bothering to wipe the blood from my hands, I started for the stairs. “If he doesn’t figure out how to kill this little fuck soon, I’ll take his daughter away from him again.”
And I would. No one got to hurt my little doll except me. I was the only one allowed to make her cry, make her beg, make her plead on her knees…
Goddamn it. My dick was hard.
Chapter Seven
