Page 60 of Vicious Heir

He grinds his molars together. “Fuck!” he screams and grabs his crotch, probably trying to soothe the pain I know he’s gotta be feeling. “He’s got me siphoning money from my clients’ accounts to try and cover up the amounts he’s using. I don’t know anything else, but your guys are up to something.”

There’s only so many things that this can mean.

The first being that Stefano is heading up some kind of scheme of his own, behind our backs, that includes dirty money and women he has to purchase from an underground fucking auction.

My mind automatically flashes to Evelina. To the baby.

There’s no way Stefano could know about her baby. We all just found out.

“Fuck,” Matteo mutters, and I share his sentiment fully.

Fuck is right.

“Good job, prick,” I say as I let Roy fall to the floor. “Now, you’re coming with us. Can’t exactly kill you in your office, can we?”

Dom grunts. “I mean, we could. I’m ready.”

I can’t hold back the smile at Dom’s words. Always so fucking eager.

Roy’s eyes must be permanently bugged out of his head because they’ve seemed to have found a new home distended out of his sockets.

“Take him to the warehouse,” I tell the guys. “We can have a lot more fun where no one can hear us.”

30

EVELINA

Alessandra’s dead eyes stare back at me as if begging me to save her.

But it’s too late.

She’s gone.

I swear I feel each crack of my heart. Ripples of shooting pain ricochet through my chest as my heart splinters into an infinite amount of pieces beyond repair. My sister. My everything. My one reason to make it out of here alive…gone.

Dead.

Cold.

Lifeless on the floor like she’s nothing more than a used and abused rag doll.

And isn’t that accurate? So accurate for what our lives have shifted into.

Her hand lies outstretched, as if reaching toward me. A last-ditch effort.

Sobs rack through my entire body. I tremble as I pound my fists into the concrete.

“Fuck!” I scream the word my parents forbade us from saying. The one word that is off-limits. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

The word isn’t fucking special! It doesn’t fucking heal this gaping hole inside of my chest.

“I’m so sorry, Alessi,” I cry out through sharp, rapid breaths as I continue to pound the ground until I can’t feel anything anymore.

Until my fists are numb and my chest no longer aches, and I feel just as dead as Alessandra looks.

I gaze into her green eyes one last time. Eyes that are an exact replica of my own. My stare trails down to her bloody, bitten-down, dirty fingernails, and I clasp my fingers around hers. One last time.

How can I possibly go on without the other half of me?

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