Page 90 of Enzo
He snarled and struggled then, trying to get at me. “What kind of man are you to hurt those you love?”
“Those I love would want to see you swiftly punished. So count your blessings that I want this one thing from you.”
“I’ll kill you for this,” he panted, his wrinkled face painted red as blood sputtered from his nose and mouth.
“You’ll never get the chance,” I remarked. “Now, what is it going to be?”
“I’m not signing it over,” he said through clenched teeth, his voice raw and filled with spite. “And even if I did, it wouldn’t save the littlest DiMauro.” A cruel smile twisted his face. “That cursed family will bleed.”
I froze.
He leaned forward in his restraints, that sick, gleeful smirk curling across his face like rot spreading through flesh. “I made sure of that.”
“Why?” I asked coldly.
“I never had anything against him,” he drawled. “Until he had to shove his nose where it didn’t belong. His action led to… something. He took from me, and now I’m going to take from him.”
My blood ran cold.
For a split second, I couldn’t speak. The world tilted sideways, my mind stuck on images of Amara in that hospital room, staring at the IV tubes and being so brave while my wife and her parents prayed for a miracle.
“Explain.”
He said nothing.
So I hit him.
My fist connected with his face and a savage crack echoed, cartilage and bone folding like paper. His head snapped back, blood gushing from his nose like spilled ink.
“Explain.Now!” I shouted, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him forward.
“You really want to know?” He slurred the words, his face distorted with anger and hate. “Fine. There were five confirmed organ matches for her. I made sure any potential match was… let’s just say, disqualified.”
I didn’t move, reeling from his cruelty.
“There was hope.” He paused. “Until there wasn’t. So much loss in this world. It’s time you people get a taste of it too.”
My stomach twisted, but my mind refused to admit defeat. There had to be another way, and when I penetrated his organization, I’d have all the information at my disposal.
“All that… for what?” I questioned. “What exactly had Luca done to you that warranted this?”
“He meddled into my business and ruined… something good I had going.”
It didn’t matter what it was, because whatever or whoever it was, it wasn’t as innocent and good as Amara.
“She’s just a kid,” I said, choking out the words.
His grin widened, crimson streaking his teeth, making him look more savage than smug. He thought he’d won.
But he had no idea who he was dealing with.
That was about to change.
I stood up and went over to the metal shelf by the far wall that I kept stocked with tools. I hovered my hand over the bone saw and axe before deciding on the cleaver.
Once I was back in front of Atticus, weapon in hand, I asked, “Are you left-handed or right-handed?”
His jaw was locked tight as he droned, “Right-handed.”
