Page 133 of Tyrant (The Villetti Chronicles)

“Such a weak little fool. If you were strong, you would have shot me the moment you walked in here. I’ve given you ample opportunity to end my life and you haven’t taken it.”

Stepping in, I found Gennaro raising a gun at Zayn, whose back was to me.

“Such a shame it has to end here.”

His words made me aim the gun in my hands at his chest. I clicked off the safety, knowing Zayn couldn’t shoot his own father. I would have to. Gennaro would kill him otherwise.

“No matter. Gil will take your place. Goodbye, son.”

My finger squeezed the trigger. The noise erupting from the barrel was deafening. The kickback forced me to take a step. My eyes narrowed in on Gennaro’s chest, watching blood seep from the wound. He looked down at it, his eyes going wide. Without thinking about it, I shot again and again, emptying more bullets into his chest. I wanted him to burn for what he’d done to his wife. Burn for the way he’d treated his sons. Burn for trying to keep Zayn and me apart. But most of all, I wanted him dead so we never had to live in fear of the man again.

Gennaro staggered back with the impact of the bullets. The blood drained from his face. The very next thing I knew, he’d dropped the gun, his hand going to his chest and coming away with blood. He looked up again, his eyes darting between me and Zayn. A moment later, he dropped to his knees as the light faded from his eyes. He swayed in place, then face planted on the floor, his fingers twitching for a moment. His body went utterly still, his chest no longer rising and falling. And I knew he was dead.

I lowered the weapon, the shakes taking over my body. I’d shot a man repeatedly. This wasn’t like when I’d murdered my uncle. That was done on pure instinct. This time, I’d killed to protect someone I loved. I’d wanted it to hurt. I needed Gennaro to suffer before he died.

My eyes went to the man I would sacrifice everything for. Zayn stared at his dead father on the floor. He barely moved, making me nervous as hell.

“Zayn.”

His head turned slowly. I knew the only person who’d fired was me, but I needed to see for myself he wasn’t hurt. Needed to know Gennaro hadn’t harmed his son.

“Tinkerbell.”

I dropped the gun and ran to him. He caught me up in his arms, holding me against his chest as my feet dangled below me, not quite touching the floor.

“You’re okay! Please tell me you’re okay, daddy. I need you to be okay,” I choked out, tears threatening to fall down my cheeks as I buried my fists in his hair.

He pressed his face to my braids, breathing me in like he couldn’t believe I was there.

“I’m okay.” His hold on me tightened. “Are you? Did they hurt you?”

“No, they didn’t,” I whispered into his neck. “I’m fine.”

Zayn’s body deflated as he set me back on my feet. He leant back, slid his gun into his pocket and cupped my face with both hands. His eyes were dark and sombre.

“You killed him.”

I nodded. There was no other choice. Gennaro would have shot him otherwise. I was not going to lose Zayn under any circumstances.

“I did it for you. I had to. He was going to kill you.” My voice got hoarse as I tried to hold back my emotions. “I couldn’t breathe at the thought of being without you. I can’t lose you. Fuck, I would die. I love you so much, so you can’t die on me, okay? You cannot die! I won’t let you.”

His face morphed into an affectionate smile as he nodded before leaning closer and kissing me. I clung to him, desperate for the reminder we were still here. That we’d survived. We were together.

“I love you,” I told him repeatedly between kisses, reaffirming to him over and over again he was my everything. That I couldn’t let him go. He’d come for me and I’d saved the both of us. I’d made it safe. We didn’t have to worry anyone would try to keep us apart again.

Zayn finally released me, leaning his forehead against mine. He looked tired and worn down. This had been taxing for him on an emotional level. I could see it in his eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for doing what I couldn’t.”

“Always.”

He tucked me up against his chest, holding me close as if he still needed reassurance I was right there with him. I wrapped my arms around his waist, giving him what he needed.

“Tell me what happened.”

I nodded against his chest and gave him the rundown of the events leading up to me shooting Gennaro. Zayn stayed silent until I mentioned the lock picks. Then he looked down at me with a frown.

“What do you mean you had lock picks?”

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