Page 67 of Ruthless King
I cock my head back to take it all in. A nice fucking place. Vaulted ceilings and black walls lined in gold crown molding and baseboards. Great acoustics, too.
I hit him again to experience the full effect, and he jerks onto his side, coughing up even more blood.
“Beautiful,” I breathe, grinning in appreciation. “I think the place looks nice with a little red, don’t you think?”
He doesn’t answer.
Sighing, I smack his chin until he faces me.
“I said, what do you think—”
“Daddy?” That sound.
It’s ice water to my senses. A gut punch.
I lurch to my feet, and for a second, the world shifts as reality descends. Where I am. What I’m doing.
“Kisa,” Salvatore croaks, his voice thick, eyes fixated behind me.
Numb with dread, I turn as well and clench my jaw around a groan. A tiny girl stands near the doorway of the room. Curling dark hair, wide blue eyes. She looks young. Six or seven, dressed in a white nightgown, a fucking teddy bear clutched under her arm.
That look on her face is one I’ll never forget. I saw a similar expression seven years ago.
But that girl came back to haunt me.
I see her again, my Safiya, laughing as movement flickers from the corner of my eye. I barely manage to avoid the kick Salvatore aims my way as he scrambles for his gun.
Before he can reach it, I pivot and hit him again. The blow lands so hard his eyes roll as blood splatters down his chin. Whining like an animal, he falls back, still alive.
A good man would leave now.
Let him live in the presence of his little girl.
That good man would pat himself on the back and call himself reformed.
Then that good man would lose every fucking thing despite that good deed. He’d never even see it coming.
Everything I’ve done has been for Vin.
And even if he’s still alive…
I don’t deserve him. I failed him once. If to protect him, I have to become someone else, so be it.
I advance so quickly my hand is around the girl’s neck before I realize. She goes rigid, her eyes staring blankly. Still, she moves as I urge her forward and crouch down beside her.
“You have a beautiful little girl,” I tell Salvatore in a voice so guttural I barely recognize it. “Kisa, is it?” I finger a lock of her dark hair and feel my stomach lurch. Damn… Looking in her eyes, the old Don rails, still there inside me.
But he’s getting harder to hear.
“Don’t…” Salvatore croaks, and I release the girl, turning back to him.
Propping my fist beneath my chin, I observe him skeptically. “Don’t tell me you have a heart, Antonio? After what you did to my family? One would think you had no soul at all.”
He grunts, and I lean closer only to realize that the gasping sounds he’s making are laughter.
“Don’t think I give a shit if you threaten her,” he boasts, cackling maniacally. “Do it. Kill the little bitch. Her mother was a Saleri—thefamigliawill just take it as an insult.”
And I could. It’s not like I hadn’t done it before—used a child to prove a point. The Saleris are a powerful family, but so were the Vanicis once. Power didn’t prevent an attack on us. As for punishing Salvatore in this way?
