Page 90 of Mafia King of Lies

Her tone is sharp and practiced. A lie, but a smart one.

Emily falters—just for a second.

I try to steady my breathing and keep my voice calm. Something within her snapped. I can see it from the deranged look in her eyes. All the sanity has left her, and all that remains is this crazy woman who seems in love with Matteo.

It all makes sense now. The way her eyes would linger on me. His mother’s necklace that she insisted I wear. All this time, she has been trying to sabotage us. The lingerie, the dinner, she knew all those things would only make him push me away further. It’s what she wanted.

“Emily, listen to me. You know Matteo doesn’t love me. He is just pretending with me like he did the last time. None of it is real.” I try to reason with her as I take another step back. Ginny and I are trapped in the sunken living area, and the only way to get out is to move toward her direction. “He doesn’t love me, and I can’t love a man like him.”

I will need to play along with whatever narrative she has built in her head.

Her eyes snap to mine, dark and manic. “Oh, but he does. And that’s the problem.” She steps closer, waving the knife in the air. “He never loved Beatrice, not like the way he loves you. I saw it in his eyes. I saw the way he moves and gravitates toward you.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ginny scanning the room. Her gaze flickers—to the fireplace, the candlestick, the hallway beyond.

She’s reading the space like a battlefield.

She’s not just scared—she’s calculating.

I freeze, my heart hammering. The longer we stay here, the more likely we are to be stabbed. I can’t have survived her poisoning only to be met by her knife.

Emily tilts her head, her smile widening. “All I had to do was wait. If you just died—like Beatrice—then everything would go back to the way it was supposed to be. He would fall in love withme again. I just needed him for one night, that’s all. One night and I would fuck you right out of him.”

A chill runs down my spine. She is demented. This woman is a literal psycho who has been right under my nose this entire time.

“But it’s fine. I will kill you so he will come back to me.”

This can’t be how it ends—not after everything. Not here, not by her hand.

With a shrill cry, she lunges in our direction.

I barely have time to react. I drop Ginny’s hand as Emily makes it over the couch and swings the knife around, trying to nick one of us. Ginny and I scatter in opposite directions, forcing Emily to hesitate as she decides whom to go after. Her wild eyes settle on me.

Of course.

She grips the knife tightly and charges again. I grab the first thing I can reach—a small side table—and shove it toward her. The force isn’t enough to stop her completely, but it throws her off balance for a second. Just enough time for me to scramble toward the other side of the room.

“I am going to kill you, bitch!” she roars.

The words send a wave of cold terror through me, but I push it aside. I need to focus. I need to survive. Emily swings again, and this time, I don’t have anywhere to run. I duck, the blade missing me by inches. The movement sends me crashing to the ground, and before I can get up, she’s on me.

I barely catch her wrist before the knife plunges toward my chest. Her arms shake as I hold her back. I don’t have my full strength back, but it’s enough to keep her at bay.

“You ruined everything!” she hisses, pressing down with more force. The blade inches closer. My arms burn with the effort of holding her back, but I won’t let her win. I can’t.

With a burst of desperation, I shift my weight and roll us over, knocking the knife from her grasp. It clatters to the floor, and before she can reach for it, I throw a punch, my fist connecting with her cheek.

She lets out a blood-rippling scream that pierces my eardrums.

I scramble up, my breaths ragged, limbs trembling with exhaustion. I glance around frantically—where is Ginny? My chest tightens. Did she make it out? I don’t know. I don’t have time to find out. Emily is already coming at me again, eyes wild, hands clawing for skin.

Before she can reach me, there’s a sharp crack.

Emily’s body goes rigid. Her eyes widen in shock before rolling back, and she collapses onto the floor, motionless. Ginny stands behind her unconscious body, holding a heavy brass candlestick, her breathing just as ragged as mine.

She meets my eyes, her face pale. “Dumb psycho bitch. Are you okay, M?”

For a moment, neither of us moves. Then I blink, my instincts returning to me. I lift my gaze from Emily and grab Ginny’s hand.

---