Page 117 of Savage Temptation

My grandfather always said that real men only cry when their children are born. Well I was crying because mine would never be. I’d never get to meet my child because of a sick and twisted fucker that deserved to suffer.

In two wide strides, I was kneeling beside her, pleading for forgiveness. Alison shot up as soon as she saw me enter the room, panicking when she saw my tears and dark expression.

“I’m sorry, Baby. I’m so fucking sorry.” I repeated in a loop, hugging her and kissing her skin, desperately hoping my love could heal her.

“Liam, what happened? What did the doctor say?” I couldn’t answer. The truth was stuck in my throat and wouldn't budge. “Liam, please. Don’t tell me that son of a bitch raped her.”

“He didn’t,” I replied, and even though it was a relief that he didn’t get to do it, my heart was still twisted in agony.

I kissed her again and caressed her hair, pulling it away from her face, the cold silence growing the panic in Alison’s eyes.

“She had a miscarriage.” I finally managed to say, the words cutting my tongue like sharp knives while new tears stained my cheeks. Alison’s eyes grew wide in shock as she gasped loudly in disbelief.

I closed my eyes tightly, resting my head in the crook of Jamie’s neck, inhaling her scent and filling my lungs with power and drive. She was all the reason I needed. The strength under my wings and the madness in my veins.

“I’ll take care of it, Baby. I promise.” I whispered into her hair.

Mike and Jimmy arrived, and I barked out my orders, making it clear that not a soul was allowed in her fucking room.

“Where are you going?” Alison shouted as I marched out of the hospital, heading towards my fate, driven by all the darkness within my soul.

I got to my car, sped out of the parking lot way above the speed limit, and headed straight to Dea Tacita.

I had to make this right. I had to fucking solve this.

I burst into Matt’s office with my gun in my hand, popping a bullet inside the chamber. My boiling blood ran through my veins, pumping my heart with an enraged heat that burned any ounce of self-preservation to ash.

I pointed the gun at Matt, angrily puffing through my clenched teeth. I was driven by rage and insanity. By regret and guilt. But most of all, I was driven by love.

“Liam, what do you think you’re doing?” Matt asked, his calm voice grating harder on my nerves.

I harshly grabbed his hand and placed the gun in it, placing the end of the barrel against my head. I forced his hand tightly around it with my own, holding my thumb over the trigger, pushing the steel further against my forehead, feeling the cold metal bury into my skin.

“Shoot me, Matt. Fucking shoot me right now. I am as good as dead. I am not fucking marrying the Amato girl!”

Chapter 35

Liam

“Calm down,” Matt said, his voice low and steady, trying to diffuse the tension, pausing between words. “I know what happened.”

“What? How?” I asked, confused but still driven by anger, my finger remaining firmly pressed on the trigger.

“Alison called in a panic when you left the hospital. That fucker is going to pay for what he did, Liam, and I’m here to help you make that happen. Just put down the gun. We’re on the same side here.”

Slowly, Matt managed to take my hands off his. He cleared the chamber and took out the magazine before setting the half-dismantled gun safely on his desk. The outcome wouldn’t have been so amicable if it were someone else. My brother had a reputation to uphold, and having a gun shoved in his face, for whatever reason, never ended well for the person threatening him.

Dea Tacita had been repainted many times to cover up some artistic blood Pollocks he’d left drying on the walls to remind the whole cosca of what happened to people who crossed the line.

I was privileged, but having him back down wasn’t my end goal when I marched into his office and made him hold me at gunpoint.

I didn't fucking care if he showed restraint or not. I wanted a solution. If there was none, he could go ahead and pull the fucking trigger for all I cared. At least that would keep it within the family because as soon as I held up my middle finger to the Amatos and their marriage proposition, either they or The Commission would sign my death warrant.

I frantically paced around the room, all the fucked up things that happened in the last few hours wreaking havoc in my mind.

They were all my fault.

If I had taken proper care of Jamie, maybe my son or daughter would still be growing inside her. Maybe she wouldn’t have gone through the terror of almost being raped. Maybe she wouldn't be lying in a fucking hospital bed right now, tainted with blotches of black and blue bruises as a reminder of what that fucker did to her.

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