I abhor them. I hate them so fucking much. I’m on the verge of insanity and there’s no talking me down from there. If I don’t leave now…
I turn to escape, and I just cannot contain the roaring rage inside. Pointing my gun, I pull the trigger. Shooting Vinny right in the foot on my way out. I don’t miss a beat and continue past the rest of those who have betrayed me and walk right out of the front doors.
Tullio tried to feed me the bullshit of this being temporary, but this is the last time walking out of the place that used to be my home. I will never step foot inside of this place again. I have no home, I have no family. All of them a bunch of traitors.
The short drive back only has me stewing, working myself up more. I’m sure my things are already being packed for me. Once I get up tohisbedroom, I lose it completely. Fisting one of my knives, I scream and slash. Destroying the bed first. The one he bought brand-new so it could be just ours and not tainted by other women. Stabbing the mattress and slicing through it over and over again. Then the pillows all get ribboned and the blankets until it looks like it’s snowing in here. Everything hebought brand-new for me. They can all rot in hell along with his fucking black heart.
Next, I storm over to my closet and thank God there isn’t a maid in there. She would probably find her way at the wrong end of my blade. I dig out my wedding dress that I was obviously never meant to wear, and I tear it to shreds too. “You fucking lying sack of shit! You never loved me! You never meant anything! You fucking played me! Youstupid motherfucker!” I scream as I stab and slice my gown until I double over as a sob abruptly rips through me. “Youfucking motherfucker!” I wail and continue slashing through the extravagant material. The hardwood floor becoming collateral damage in the massacre.
Surrounded by the fabric of my torn gown, I cry my fucking lungs out as the world is caving in around me. As if I haven’t experienced great loss recently, the two most important men in my life collectively broke my heart, tearing the rest of my life apart. Taking everything that means most from me.
Why did you leave me, Babbo? Why?
He wasn’t supposed to leave me like this. Not when I need him more than ever. He wouldn’t banish me. He wouldn’t force me away.
I’d give anything to run into his arms like a little girl, and have him squeeze me tight. Keep me in his embrace where I feel most protected. Most loved.
Regaining a bit of stability, I use the soiled dress to wipe the snot and tears from my face and stand up. Holding my head high, I exit the closet, and my phone starts going off. I pull it from my pocket to see that it’s Mamma calling, and there’s no way I can talk to her right now.
When I decline the call, it goes to the home screen, where I have a rare picture of Massimo and me set as my background. With a high-pitched scream, my ire bleeds from my pores, andI throw my phone as hard as I can against the wall, knowing it shattered the screen.
Rage takes back the wheel and I trample through the estate in a destructive frenzy. I obliterate anything in my path while barking orders for my shit to be packed immediately. I’m ready to be rid of this place.
It was beginning to feel like home to me. It was quiet and cold compared to the warm house I grew up in, but because of Massimo, it was becoming home. Becausehewas becoming my home, as well as my heart.
Now, they’re both broken.
Do they not remember who I am? Sending me away is severing any connection.Infinitely.It can never be repealed, yet they went ahead and did it anyway.
Chapter thirty-seven
Alessia
I’ve been so eager to try this bad boy out. One of the many perks with my new career choice are the fun toys I get to play with.
My relocation across the country to the desolate southwest had me doubting I would ever recapture that thrill—the one that comes from staring death in the face, by living with the constant shadow of death.
After moping around for weeks in a spell of despondency and self-pity, I emerged with newfound resolve, ready to take back ownership of my life. It’s my path to forge.
Still, I oscillated between melancholy and anger and contemplated building my own empire or devising a plan of retaliation. My insider knowledge could certainly take those down who hurt me. Yet, despite my longing for vengeance, I could never truly repay their betrayal in kind.
And the headache of running an empire wasn’t enough for me. The only way I could cope was to feed the bloodthirsty beastraging inside. I knew just the person that could assist me in that. Well-known assassin, Komodo.
To my recollection, at the time, I knew him to be a loner, loyal to whoever pays the most. But when I found a way to contact him, I learned he now works for The Organization. I told him I wanted in on impulse. He checked my alias to make sure there would be no way of tying me to the mob, and once he cleared me, he set me up with a meeting.
It wasn’t hard to prove my worth to them. My life of training led me up to that moment.
A couple of years later, here I am. On top of a tall building with my new Dragunov aimed at my next assignment. Because what would a markswoman be without the best marksman sniper rifle out there?
Edwin Edwards has been a very dirty little man with a thick file of corruption. Another CEO of some pharmaceutical company that is progressively in moral decline. He thrives off the sick to get rich. He has the only effective product on the market for a rare pediatric disease, and it’s pricy. Most families cannot afford it. The bastard could cut the cost down by 50% and still maintain his multi-millionaire status.
Supposedly, the people he borrowed money from to start his company were out of patience. He thought that with all the money he’d made, he was somehow untouchable.
I’m no vigilante, but I enjoy executing people whom the world would be better off without. I wish this one didn’t have to be a quick job. I’d love nothing more than to play with my food first, but I was given orders.
It’s become my catharsis for the pent-up anger inside me that never seems to dull or fade. It’s what gets me up every day.
Popping in a piece of cinnamon gum, I get down and peer through the scope. Yup, still there, utterly oblivious, as he sipshis top-shelf liquor with a bunch of big kahunas. One of which is the man who hired someone to kill him.