Page 212 of Nemesync
My eyes held so much anger. “This nickname your organization gave me is almost adorable. I didn’t know that I was a threat to you. But I’m glad to be one.”
Undeterred, Marcelo continued, pressing the wrong buttons with every word. “The Pakhan must be a lucky man.”
“Don’t even talk about him.”
The same sadist smile reappeared on his lips. “Oh please. Do you even know where he is tonight? Because I do... This little penthouse is fantastic. So many guards outside too. He must be paranoid.” He laughed with arrogance. “You don’t know anything about the people you’re fighting Zanae, Anything,” he declared with a twisted smile.
So much confidence.
“The same goes to you,” I retorted.
With a smug grin, he said, “The Venom Reapers, right? Oh, I’ve heard about them. The only Pakhan and Don thathad succeeded in creating an alliance between the two most powerful parts of the mafia worlds. Dangerous men, but you see, they have a certain...weakness. She told me they could be a problem.”
My eyes were cold, my determination was even bigger than before.
I spoke in a low, menacing tone, “You know nothing about them. You underestimate the Zennites, and you underestimate me.”
He smiled, with the most arrogant kind of smirk and said, “See, that’s the thing, I knew you could be a casualty, but they didn’t believe me. I have to make an example of you, she would be mad, but I don’t care.”
Marcelo leaned against the wall and added, “Do you know what the common denominator is in all of this? It always comes back to you, Zanae Dellé. Your mere existence puts the people you love in danger. You are the sole cause of everything that is happening in this city. If it came, for example, to kill your friend Nikolai Moretti, you should bear his death on your conscience because you are the central piece in this unhealthy game, as you put it so aptly. If you were to leave, everything would be easier for everyone, I believe.”
I mimicked a crying sound, “Oh no, cry me a fucking river, Marcelo.” I aimed my gun at him, “I could’ve been so touched If I had any fucks to give, but I don’t, in fact I never have, thanks to that organization you’re working for.”
Marcelo laughed, “You’re not going to miss them, Miss Dellé, I could just send a text and the house where your little boyfriend lives will be on fire.”
“Are you trying to die?”
“In fact, I’ll just do it to prove to you that you’re messing with the wrong people.”
His phone was in his hand, and I didn’t see anything else other than the possibility of Elijah’s dead body, burned to the bones.
Pure darkness.
When his life was on the line, anger was the only thing I could feel. For him, possessiveness was the poison I drank, yearning for the other person to die.
“One click?—”
No.
It was too late for Marcelo.
Sinister verses written in his own blood were forming on his face.
“He’s already dead.” That haunting melody drowned out every sound around me. It was as if the most tragic and gruesome piece of theater was playing out in my mind: my soul forcing me to kill for the man I love, symphonies of dark violence playing around us.
The small breath I inhaled felt infinite, and the crescendo of an orchestra, the horrible touch of pianos and the gritty resonance of violins painted the whole scenario in every part of my mind so vividly.
Death.
One click.
One click.
One click.
Death was the song playing all over again, with vengeance as the symphony accompanying it. My Elijah will never be threatened as long as air fills my lungs.
I was going to kill Marcelo.
