As much as I’d like to knock Edoardo’s head right off his traitorous shoulders, I know I can’t. I won’t get the answers I crave if he’s dead.
Instead, I roughly grasp his pinky finger—the one still adorned with the gold ring I gave him—cutting it clean off. The digit and the ring both fall to the ground the moment I let go. Only the ring makes a sound as it bounces against the concrete floor with ating, ting, ting.
Edoardo lets out another high-pitched scream as he pisses his pants, and that sight has a smile tugging at my lips. That may sound cold, but this man was responsible for my father’s death and almost my own. I still have to live with the effects of those five bullets every day, both physically and mentally.
He sways in his chair as blood drips from his hand where Iamputated his finger. A larger pool of blood has now gathered around his foot where I shot it. He doesn’t look great. He’s turned a deathly shade of white and is clammy, so I need to get this show on the road before he passes out.
“My father gave you everything,” I seethe, the words slicing through the air. “A place at his table, his trust, money, power, and you violated that in the worst way possible. He fucking loved you,” I bellow. “And what did that get him? A bullet through the back of his head.”
He sneers, unfazed. “Boo-fucking-hoo. Do you expect me to care? Your father had it all. I was sick of constantly seeing him winning at life. He had everything I ever wanted. The head of theFamiglia, the male heirs …the girl.”
That last part hits me like a slap, and I can feel the heat rise in my chest. “The girl? What girl? You mean my mother?”
He chuckles darkly, his voice dripping with venom. “I’m guessing your father never told you how they met?”
My eyes narrow with a sharp edge. “It doesn’t matter how they met. My parents adored each other.”
His face contorts in rage. “Your fatherstoleher from me!” he roars. “Caterina was meant to be mine.”
“I highly doubt that,” I reply, my tone laced with disbelief.
“It’s true,” he spits, his fury building. “I saw her first. I was the one who introduced them. That bastard had it all … money, looks, power. He used it to his advantage. Your mother couldn’t resist his charms. She was powerless to him.”
I rear back. “You did this out of jealousy?” I ask, the disbelief thick in my voice.
His facial features tighten as his jaw clenches. “She was supposed to be mine,” he growls through gritted teeth. He bows his head and repeats it, quieter, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself, “She was supposed to be mine.”
“My mother’s been dead for years.” None of this makes sense. “Why would you avenge something like that all these years later? Her death almost broke Papa.”
He slowly lifts his face as his eyes lock with mine, and the twisted bitterness in his gaze sends a cold shiver coursing down my spine.
“But it didn’t, did it? Your mother was just as gullible as your old man. They put their trust in the wrong person. Do you know I went to the church that day to see her? I told her I was there out of concern because I didn’t feel safe with her driving at night on her own. When I offered to follow her to make sure she got home safe, she was so appreciative.”
He starts to laugh, and I sway a little on my feet, suddenly feeling faint. I know what he’s about to say, but I silently plea for him not to say it. “She had no idea accepting my offer would ultimately seal her fate. I ran the only woman I ever truly loved off the road and left her there for dead to get back at a man who had everything I wanted, and where did that get me? Nowhere.”
It takes a second for his words to register, but the moment they do, I drop the bolt cutters in my hand, and they land on the concrete with a loud, echoing thud as I reach for his throat again.
This time, the blinding fury that runs rampant through my body is unrestrainable. Nothing and no one can stop the inevitable. I shove my hand tighter against his throat, and when he opens his mouth to try and get much-needed air into his lungs, I reach behind me for my gun, shoving it deep into the back of his throat. I don’t even hesitate to pull the trigger.
I know whatever secrets this man still holds will die right alongside him, but I’m too fucked up right now to care.
I take a step back, my chest heaving as Edoardo’s head slumps to the side. A sickening gurgling sound comes from the back of his throat as he chokes on his own blood.
He’s only seconds away from death, but I’m thankful it wasn’t instant. This man deserves to suffer for the carnage he’s caused.
I retreat a few more steps. My head is spinning.
“Boss,” Romeo says, reaching out to place his hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t,” I grumble, shrugging it off. I’m barely able to hold my shit together right now, so the last thing I need or want is any kind of sympathy from him.
I hand him my gun without making eye contact. “Clean this mess up. Get rid of this and his car.” I finally manage to lift my head, meeting his gaze, and the compassion I see reflecting back has a tight knot forming in my throat. “Make sure they can never be found.”
“Okay,” is his only reply as I spin on my heel and get the fuck out of there.
As I step into the chilly night, I pause for a moment, retrieve the pocket square from my suit jacket, and do a haphazard job of wiping the blood off my hands.
When I’m done, I tilt my face towards the star-filled sky. “I’m sorry, Mamma,” I whisper into the darkness, my voice trembling as I speak.