Page 52 of Bittersweet Endings
“We are,” I responded. Then I pulled the trigger rapidly, taking down two of her security detail.
Carmine shuffled back towards me, his hands still raised, while he was clearly uninterested in the game ending just yet.
“I’m gonna kill you for that,” Rocco growled at me.
“Dig a little deeper into your men.” I motioned at the two bodies. “They were tied to JP.”
His mouth dropped open, and I ushered Carmine towards the door again. Unable to be out done, he reached out and tried grabbing for Octavia. Her shot went wild, hitting the floor and forcing us to move out faster.
“See you soon, little doll,” he called out over a shoulder.
“I’m sure.” Octavia’s exhausted expression was the last thing we saw as the door closed behind us.
“Carmine, you’re in over your head.”
He ignored me as we walked out of the club. A man lost to the woman he loved. As if we didn’t have enough shit on our hands.
Chapter Sixteen
CARMINE RAGETTI
My fists connected in rapid succession, each hit sending a satisfying jolt through my arms. Across from me, Lorenzo threw his own punches. His form tight, precise. He was good—too good for his age—but he was still learning. Still figuring out how to channel that fire without burning himself in the process.
I, on the other hand, was already burning alive.
The need to get my hands dirty clawed at me, the urge to kill sitting heavy in my chest. It wasn’t just anger—it was necessity. Peiro was still breathing, still a threat. As long as he lived, Octavia wasn’t safe. I couldn’t have her back in my arms until I was sure no one could take her from me again.
And that meant Peiro had to go. Permanently.
Lorenzo’s fist barely missed my ribs, snapping me back to the moment. I countered hard, making him stumble back. He scowled, shaking out his hands, but didn’t complain. He knew better.
I took a breath and rolled my shoulders. Itdidn’t help. The rage was still there, pumping through my veins, making it impossible to think of anything but blood.
The gym door swung open, and Matteo strolled inside. He took one look at me and stopped. He had news. I could see it in the way he hesitated, the way his mouth pressed into a thin line. But he didn’t say a word.
Instead, he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, his eyes watching me. And I knew exactly what he was thinking. Since that stunt in the club, Octavia had gained the upper hand, and I couldn’t have that.
I gritted my teeth and turned back to the bag, landing another brutal blow. Matteo didn’t press me for answers. Because we both knew I didn’t have them.
Not yet. But soon.
Because one way or another, Octavia was going to be mine again. None of the how, the when, or the why mattered. I’d let her go, and now I decided I wanted her back. It was that simple.
My fists pounded into the bag, each hit sharper, harder, fueled by the fire raging beneath my skin. My knuckles ached, but I welcomed the pain. It was better than the itch crawling through me, the one that demanded blood, demanded action.
Matteo was still leaning against the wall, watching, waiting.
“Spit it out,” I snapped, not bothering to look at him. “I know you didn’t come here just to stare.”
He exhaled through his nose. “One of our informants got something interesting.” A pause. “Peiro’s acting up again.”
My rhythm faltered for half a second before I forced myself to keep going. “That so?”
Matteo nodded. “He’s been throwing money around, trying to hire a hitman.” His voice was even, but there was an edge to it. “He wants you dead, Carmine.”
I stopped. Just like that. Breathing hard, I stepped back,rolling my wrists as I turned to face him. A slow, vicious smile spreading across my face.
“He wants me dead,” I repeated, tasting the words, letting them settle. Then I chuckled, the sound dark and hollow. “Good.”
