Page 31 of Tilly
“How’s Tilly handling all this?”
“She’s surprisingly calm.” I shrug.
“She’s always calm.” He laughs. “I fear the day she cracks. All that pent-up frustration, all that anger she refuses to let out—it’s a bomb waiting to explode and you’re more than likely going to be on the receiving end of that blast.”
“She’s perfect.” And she’ll still be perfect in a fit of rage. I wouldn’t care. Rafe doesn’t know. How could he? I take our privacy seriously. But truth is, Tilly does let her frustrations show when she’s with me. When it’s just us, she doesn’t hide any of her feelings.
“She is,” Rafe agrees.
I look at my best friend. He’s been really quiet on the subject of Matilda Valentino’s sudden, very active appearance in my life. He knows I’ve wanted her for so fucking long. He knew I was in love with her before I admitted it to myself.
“You know I love you, Rafe. But if you so much as think about her, I will kill you.”
“Bro, what the fuck? I do not want your woman.” He laughs. “That Valentino Princess is all yours.”
“Then why do you have that look on your face?”
“I like seeing you happy, so fucking sue me. Speaking of your future in-laws, Theo Valentino reached out to me. He wants us to meet him at the docks.”
“Why the docks?”
“Who the fuck knows? I’m just the messenger.” Rafe shrugs.
Pulling up, I see two SUVs with Valentino plates parked outside the boathouse. Interesting spot for a meeting in the middle of the fucking night. Emillio’s words replay in my head.
I could be walking my ass straight into my own execution here.
I shake off that thought, climb out of the car, and walk in. Five of my men pile out of the SUV that was tailing us. Three follow me inside while two position themselves by the door. And let’s just say when I look up and see fucking Hernando hanging from the rafters, I’m not disappointed.
“Glad you could finally make it,” Theo says.
I glance around the room, my eyes flicking to every corner. All of Tilly’s uncles are here. Romeo sends me an unimpressed glare; although it seems to have lost some of its initial heat.
I’m sure he’d love nothing more than to see me hanging next to our friend here.
I don’t say anything. Walking up to Hernando as calmly as I can, I pull my right hand back, fist clenched, and throw it into the side of his head. The guy’s already bleeding and bruised. The Valentinos started this party without me.
“You fucking asshole. You looked at the wrong fucking girl.” I slam my fist into him again. Pull on his hair and hold his face up. “I’m going to make this hurt as much as possible. I’m going to enjoy seeing you fucking beg.” Then I drop his head and step back. “You should know better than to threaten a man’s girl. Did you think I’d just roll over and let that shit fly?” I laugh as I reach to my right and grab the Deba knife left sitting on a nearby table. These are used for gutting fish. Fitting, considering what I’m about to do to this fucker’s intestines. “You had to know I’d find you.”
“You didn’t find me. You had to run to these assholes for help.” Hernando cackles under his breath.
“Real funny, huh? That asshole happens to be the father of the girl you threatened,” I say, gesturing to Romeo with the butt of the knife.
Hernando’s eyes widen. He didn’t know. How the fuck didn’t he know? How could he not know who Tilly was before he slipped that envelope on my desk?
“Truth is, it wouldn’t have mattered what her last name was—is—because she’s mine. And you were dumb enough to think you could touch what’s mine.” I dig the tip of the blade into his skin, just below the belly button. I push in and slowly slide it up with a sawing motion. Though I really don’t even need to do that. Shit cuts like butter.
Hernando’s screams fill the room. Blood cascades over the lower half of his torso and splatters on the floor. Before I reach his chest cavity, the sound of a gun firing has me stopping. Red rains down on my face, my arms, my chest. More blood. And fucking brain matter.
I turn and look at Theo. “Was that necessary?” I ask while nodding to the gun in his hand.
“I don’t need to play with my food. It all ends the same way. Now we all get to go home to our wives sooner,” he grunts.
I draw my arm back, remove the knife, and hand it to Rafe. Never leave anything behind with your prints on it. I know he’ll dispose of that shit where no one will ever find it. Not that anyone will find enough of the body to prove the fucker’s dead in the first place.
“He didn’t deserve a quick fucking death,” I snap.
“Cleaners are on their way,” one of the Valentinos calls out before pocketing his phone. Sometimes I can’t tell the brothers apart. Tonight I don’t even try.
