Page 275 of Niccolo

Fausto’s eye twitched as he looked up at me.

“It was – it was bad luck,” I continued. “You couldn’t have known – ”

“SHUT UP!” he shrieked at me, his voice howling like a soul in Hell.

I stepped back in shock. “I’m – I’m sorry – ”

“YOUMOCK ME?!”he raged, his entire body shaking. “‘JUST BAD LUCK’?! I LOSE MY FUCKING SON, AND YOUHAVETO SAY ‘I TOLD YOU SO’?!”

“No,” I said in horror. “No, I didn’t mean – ”

“You told me not to do it,” he hissed. “You said it over and over – ‘Just kill Massimo. Take the easy win.’ Is that why you’rerubbing it in my face? You think you’reBETTERthan me?!You think you’reSMARTERthan me?!”

“No, I – ”

He staggered to his feet and screamed in my face, “SHUT UP, YOU STUPID CUNT!”

I stood there, frozen still as a statue.

I was terrified –

Terrified that he would pull out a gun and shoot me dead.

He looked absolutely insane, with flecks of spittle on his lips and beard, as his burning eyes stared deep into mine.

And then he must have decided I wasn’t worth the effort…

Because he turned and lumbered out of the room like a mortally wounded animal.

I stood there for a long moment, unable to breathe or move –

And suddenly I started shaking. Just trembling all over.

I started to cry.

I hated Fausto –HATEDhim –

But I hated myself even more.

I hated that, in the face of a man’s asshole behavior, once again I felt weak and helpless.

My father…

The Dane and his cronies in the Chess Federation…

And now Fausto.

I thought of Lucia, who had screamed in her captor’s face –

And when he punched her, she screamed back twice as hard.

I wanted that strength for myself…

And I despised myself for my weakness.

Yet…

Underneath all my rage and self-loathing…

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