Page 4 of The Madman and his broken Princess
Lamorgese cackled, then winced and held his side, his skin turning ashen. “We all go to hell, Romano. You’ll be happy to know I’ll make sure your son’s life is pure hell so he comes prepared for what comes after. I don’t have time to extend the same courtesy to you. A king has to die so a new one can take his place.” Two men jerked my father to his feet, and Lamorgese sliced him open with a gleaming blade from sternum to his pubic bone. For a moment, nothing happened, and my father simply stared in confusion. Then he arched forward, and his bowels tumbled to the floor with a resounding splash.
Bile flooded my mouth in a wave, but I swallowed it down, even as my eyes began to burn fiercely. I wouldn’t give any of them the satisfaction of seeing me break, but I couldn’t stop useless tears from filling my eyes. I wasn’t even sure why. My father had never been good.
A shriek sounded. I turned toward the sound in time to see Amelia bent forward and throwing up my expensive birthday dinner on the hardwood floor. She looked stricken and on the verge of a mental breakdown. She retched again and heaved up bile. Tears streamed down her face as she glanced from the bowels to her father, then to me. Her dress was bloodred, and I was sure Lamorgese had chosen the color intentionally.
I held her gaze.
Had she known about this? Had she overheard her father whisper about the conspiracy? Had she looked into my eyes knowing I’d die tonight?
I’d enjoyed talking to her. She had seemed like one of the few people I knew who wasn’t fake. Her smile had felt honest, kind even.
“Kill the rest. Everyone who’s loyal to Romano, except for the boy,” Benedetto Falcone ordered. “Someone needs to torture the rebellious glint out of him.”
Several traitors grabbed the captives, jerked their heads back, and sliced their throats. They killed my uncle, my pregnant stepmother, my aunt, my cousins, and the people I considered allies and friends in that fashion until the gurgling of their blood-filled throats echoed in the ballroom. My only consolation was that I didn’t see Niccolo among the dead.
Amelia sank to her knees. She kept her eyes on me as the last gurgles of the dying filled the room, as their bowels covered the floor, and their blood snaked toward us like tentacles. Eventually, the red liquid reached my shoes. Amelia shoved to her feet before the blood could touch her fingers. Her eyes held compassion and horror. I wanted to believe that she was innocent in this, that one person was still alive who hadn’t betrayed my family or me.
Eduardo dragged me down into the basement of my home. I had only recently been allowed to set foot into this part of the house. My father had a panic room, a room for questioning, and a vastchamber with several cells down there. The few times I had been allowed to visit the basement, the cells had been empty.
When Eduardo shoved me into one of the cells, my legs caved, and my knees collided with the bare stone floor. Immediately, the stench of old blood, urine, and sweat wafted into my nose. The stench of fear and misery.
I whirled around to face Eduardo and glared up at him. “You filthy traitor.”
“I told you to run. I didn’t want it to end like this, Nestore. Your father, yes, but not you.” He backed out of the cage and closed the door with a clang, then locked it with a key. “There’s nothing I can do for you now.”
“One day, I’ll come for you,” I growled, focusing on the anger simmering in my veins instead of the fear bubbling in my stomach. I wasn’t a stranger to pain. My father was quick to snap and had tried to harden me for a future as Underboss, but deep down, I knew what Lamorgese had planned for me would be far worse.
Eduardo’s sympathetic expression only increased my rage. He nodded as if in farewell. “I hope it ends quickly. Good luck, Nestore. The name Romano will die with you.”
I stumbled to my feet, then toward the bars, clasping them in a tight grip. “What about Niccolo?”
Eduardo glanced over his shoulder at me. “Worry about yourself, not your cousin.” He left, leaving the question hanging between us.
I hung my head, my forehead pressed up against the cool bars.
What a birthday.
A choked laugh erupted from my mouth. I closed my eyes, trying not to lose it completely. I had to figure out a way out of here. I knew every corner of this house. I had to outsmart my guards and Lamorgese.
Or I’d die in agony.
The door to the cellblock creaked open. My muscles tautened in anticipation as I lifted my head from my knees and leaned against the wall, feeling safer with something solid to support my back. My eyes burned from exhaustion. A glance at my watch revealed that it was nine in the morning. Nobody had come for me since Eduardo had dropped me off here eight hours ago. Would the torture begin now? I would have expected Lamorgese to spend longer in the hospital, considering where my knife had hit him, but maybe he wouldn’t torture me himself.
It wasn’t Achille Lamorgese who entered the cellblock, though. Only his own flesh and blood, also a Lamorgese in name, leaving me wary of her loyalties. She seemed like a kind girl, but after the betrayal I’d encountered yesterday, I wasn’t willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, especially not with a father like hers.
She closed the door near soundlessly before she walked over to the gate of my cell. She wore plush red slippers and a long terry bathrobe of the same color that reached her ankles. Despite this, she shivered in the cool basement air, and goose bumps erupted on her skin. Her pale face seemed to glow in the dim light. Shadows spread under her eyes, and the haunted look in them made my pulse pick up. I tried to ignore how dire my situation was, but seeing the blatant concern on her face drove it home.
“Why are you here?” I rasped, my throat scratchy from thirst.
“I’m sorry for what happened. For your loss. For everything.”
I only stared. I hadn’t allowed myself to mourn my father and uncle yet. When I didn’t react, she blinked, then lowered her gaze with a sigh. “I wanted to tell you that I didn’t know this was going to happen.”
I believed her even though I didn’t have a single reason to. Something about her just felt too pure to be deceiving.
Six hours before
I lingered in the grand entry hall, wishing we could finally leave this place. The stench of blood and feces from the spilled bowels was overpowering even here. I wasn’t sure how the men cleaning up the ballroom handled it.
