Page 93 of Reaper & Ruin
“What the hell happened here? Do you think this is the next round?” I muttered, stepping further into the room. The sound of my sneakers squelching against the blood-soaked floor made my stomach turn.
And then I heard it. Two words that instantly made me understand what happened.
What I ought to have guessed would happen.
“Hello, Giovanni.”
The voice was unmistakable—smooth, cold, and dripping with condescension. My entire body went rigid as I turned toward the source.
There, standing in the middle of the carnage, blood soaked and calm, was my father.
He was impeccably dressed as always, his tailored suit untouched by the blood surrounding him. A cruel smile tugged at his lips as he regarded me, his gold-ringed fingers clasped behind his back.
Behind him, through the shattered glass of the windows and the wide-open door, I could see the reason he was so calm in the house of a psychopath. Dozens of his gangsters stood outside, armed to the teeth and ready for war.
“Father,” I said, my voice low and cold as I stared at his gun, pointed my way, and aimed my own toward him. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Chapter Thirty, Rescue
The car rolled to a stop just down the road from the house my men were supposed to be inside. I sat stiffly in the back seat, fingers tapping a restless rhythm on the seat beside me. Silver scanned the scene out of the window. Rowan lounged beside her, like we were out for a casual drive, humming under his breath and tapping his fingers on the door.
I wanted to smack him for being so calm.
The house that housed my boys was utterly unremarkable—cookie-cutter suburban with yellow siding, a perfectly manicured lawn, and a white picket fence. It would’ve looked like a family home if not for the chaotic cluster of luxury cars and black SUVs crammed around the driveway.
And the bodies. Lots and lots of bodies.
Silver cursed quietly. “We’ve got company.”
“Shit,” I muttered, leaning forward to get a better look.
My stomach churned as the car doors opened. Within seconds, the driveway was full of men, some holding rifles,others standing around smoking, their casual stance doing little to hide the menace they radiated.
It was bad enough. But then I sawhim.
A tall man with slicked-back gray hair emerged from one of the sleek black sedans. His pinstripe suit was sharp; his movements commanding. My chest tightened, and my fists clenched until my knuckles went white.
“Fuck,” I ground out. “That’s Giorgio De Luca.”
Rowan peered past me. “Giovanni’s charming father?”
“Yes.” My voice was clipped, but the single word carried the weight of all my rage.
“Easy, Lucky,” Rowan drawled, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe don’t pick the crime lord as your first kill. He might be a little too dangerous.”
I whipped around, glaring daggers at him. “I can be just as dangerous. All I have to do is shoot the prick.” I waved my gun.
His smirk faded. “Fair point. Go on and shoot him then. Aim for his chest; it’s easier to hit than his head.”
I turned back toward the house, jaw tight and eyes narrowed. Gio’s father stood in the center of the chaos, barking orders with the same self-assured arrogance that made my hands clench.
“You arenotkilling him, Heather. He’d kill you before you even aimed, and I am not letting that happen.” Silver’s voice cut through my staring as she reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a folded map, spreading it over her lap. “We’re not storming in like idiots. We sneak in, grab Atlas and Gio, and get the hell out. Got it?”
I nodded reluctantly, though the thought of sneaking around when Giorgio was right there made my blood boil.
Lola,I thought to myself.I’m going to murder someone today. I know as my therapist you should tell me not to. Butas my friend I think you’ll agree. Giorgio isn’t a person. He’s a monster. And sometimes monsters need to die.
Lola didn’t reply to me, and I took that as her agreement.
