Page 100 of Scandalous Contract
"Please, Julian," he begged, his voice cracking. "We can work something out. I can disappear. You'll never see me again."
His words fell on deaf ears. I didn’t want his words. I only wanted his life. There was no room for mercy. I didn’t have much strength left, but I would use it to finish him. I grabbed him by the collar, yanking him to his feet, and pressed him against the tree.
“Please...” he started.
I sank my knife into his stomach. His eyes widened, and he struggled against me. But I didn’t let go. I kept him pinned against the tree as I sank my blade into him over and over again, gaze on his, wanting to see the life fade from his eyes.
The wind blew harder, gusting now as lightning brightened the sky above us. I could see the fear in his eyes. I was thankful that I’d be the last person this bastard saw before he went to hell.
"Please," he gasped, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.
I withdrew the blade and stabbed again, and again, each thrust fueled by the pain and rage that had been building inside me. Scott's body convulsed with each blow. I kept stabbing, planning to stab him for every day I’d been away from Stefanie.
For every time Aubrey’s guard reported that someone in the same vehicle Scott drove, rode past the school or a shop that my sister and India visited. For every time a camera picked him up near a Cattaneo business.
For him hiring a big wrestler type motherfucker to guard him. I stabbed him for each of those offenses. I kept going until my hand was slick with his blood, and the wound I’d created was a gaping hole.
Finally, I stopped, my chest heaving. Scott's eyes were vacant, his body limp. I stood over him, the storm raging around me. He was gone. Dead. It was over. I wish I could’ve caused him more pain. But this would have to do.
I released him and let his body slump to the ground. I stumbled backward. Struggling to breathe, energy depleted, I, too, fell to the ground. Rain pelted my body as I stared up at the sky. The first hint of morning was finally shining through the dark clouds.
As my eyes drifted shut, my thoughts turned to her. Soon, I’d be able to go to her. Soon, I’d be by her side. Soon, she’d be mine. And that was my last thought before darkness claimed me. The next time I opened my eyes, the rain had stopped.
The sun beamed down on me, a sign that I’d made it through the storm. Groaning, I tried to sit up.Not happening.I lay there, staring up at the sky, body aching. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself onto my side and stared around me.
One body was slumped against the tree. Another body was lying in the middle of the clearing. Both had to be disposed of, and I didn’t have the strength to do it. I was pretty sure I didn’t have the strength to drive.
I lay there for a moment, hoping the pain would lessen. It didn’t. It wouldn’t. Not without some meds, which I didn’t have on me. I had no choice but to fight through it. Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself into a sitting position.
“Fuck,” I hissed, head pounding.
My body screamed for me to lie back down. But I couldn’t. I had to find my phone. I had to call a cleaning crew. And I was pretty sure I needed a doctor. I sat there for a second, gathering my strength.
Then I pushed myself to my feet. I repeated the same few words over and over again as I worked.Heal and then go to her. Heal and then go to her. Heal and then go to her.It was those words that got me through the next hour of making phone calls and waiting for help to arrive.
At some point, I passed out. I didn’t know how long I was out for. What I did know was that waking up felt like dragging myself out of a fog. Every inch of my body ached. My joints, my ribs, my jaw, even.
But I wasn’t in the woods anymore. I knew that without opening my eyes. The mattress was familiar, the linen soft. The air in the room was cooler, crisper. I blinked, my lashes sticking together before finally prying apart.
My bedroom. I was in my own damn bed. Safe. Alive. And out of the storm. The door creaked open. My gaze slid in that direction just as my father entered.Guiliano Cattaneo. Memories hit me all at once.
Me crawling across the forest floor to find my phone. Dialing the cleaners. Then calling my dad and telling him the job was done.
He’d shown up minutes before the cleaners had. And he hadn’t spared a glance at the bodies on the ground. His concern had been for me. Only me. I remembered him helping me into his car. After that, everything was a blur.
All I remembered was the pain and the exhaustion. Oh, I remembered telling him not to tell Mom I was hurt. Beyond that, I couldn’t remember anything, not how long I’d been out. Nothing. My dad came over and sat on the edge of the bed.
“You’re awake. Finally,” he murmured, voice low, but with an edge of relief.
“How long was I out?” My voice was hoarse, thick like I’d swallowed gravel.
“Three days. On and off.”
Three days? Fuck. I hadn’t sent Stefanie a letter in three days. Was she worried? Was she wondering if I’d given up on her? Had she given up on me?
“Look at me,” Dad insisted.
I looked up. His dark eyes locked on mine.
