Page 105 of The Diávolos: Part Two
I look at my father again. “Evan and I got married by the way…” I announce in a casual tone.
Mybaba’sface loses its remaining color, becoming even more stalk white. “Youbitch,” he spits. “How dare you marry that useless piece of shit! When I expressly forbid it!”
My rage surfaces like an erupting volcano but quickly dissolves into an icy calm.Fuck him.
I inch myself a little closer. “This is how things are going to go, Peter. Evander and I are going to assume control of your territory and business. The other clans have already agreed to our takeover, given that you’ve been exploiting them. They want to see you gone,” I say matter-of-factly.
My heart pounds in my chest as I look at the man who used to bring me comfort. He has become a shadow of what he once was, consumed by greed and power.
Peter’s eyes, cold and calculating, meet mine. The cuts and bruises on his face are reminders of the ruthless decisions he’s made throughout his life.He deserves this and more.
“As we speak, Evander has already sent his army of men into the Sisterhood, which by the way…fuck youfor taking me to that godforsaken place. They are rescuing the poor women that have been abused because of you and will burn the institution to the ground.”
Evander and his men devised a plan to march into the fortress and bring an end to its reign of terror. They didn’t want to risk the innocents inside, so Xander gathered as much intel as possible, observing people’s movements and schedules, tracking guard rotations, and studying the layout of the compound.
Once the hostages are all secured, Dion will make sure that the explosives are set, timers synchronized, and that the building crumbles, reduced to rubble.
Mybabastares at me in horror as I recount the plan, but I feel no pity.
“We will ruin you, Peter, and I’m going to revel in every second of watching your empire burn. You killed my mother and were slowly killing me until I realized what a waste of human life you are. You don’t deserve to live.” I sneer, my tone laced with venom.
He chuckles, a dark sound that sends shivers through me, and attempts to lunge at me, his eyes flaring with rage. I barely flinch.
“If you think I won’t end you because you’re my daughter, Angelica, you’re mistaken,” he hisses.
I break into a delirious fit of laughter. “I know what you’re capable of, but your mistake is that you keep underestimating me.”
The air crackles with tension. In this moment, I see the truth I’ve always known—my father is beyond redemption. There’s no reasoning with the darkness that has consumed him. “No one can help you, Peter. Everyone who was on your side is either dead or will be soon.”
I take a deep breath, trying to compose my growing fury, my heart almost beating out of its confines. Evan decides just then to come back into the room, probably having heard my raised voice. Just as he steps in, my father attempts to throw himself at me again, and I recoil.
“You’re just like your mother,” he spits. “Desperate enough to marry your enemy to fuck your way out of a situation. I should’ve gotten rid of you when I found out she was pregnant.”
What a fucking liar. “You loved my mother!” I shout. Anger surges in my chest, eclipsing any fear.
An invisible force turns my body to stone as shock seeps into my veins. I urge my legs to move, but they stay still. For a moment, I feel like a statue.
“You son of a bitch!” Evander hisses. “I’ll fucking kill you for talking about my wife like that.” He stalks across the room and grabs Peter by his hair, yanking his head back, and swings a punch straight to his nose. The cracking sound echoes in the space around us.
Peter yelps in pain, but Evander doesn’t stop pounding his fist into his face.
Still frozen, my brain works in overdrive, emotions roaring in my chest. I need to do something, anything.
“STOP! LEAVE US!” I scream at the top of my lungs.
Evander drops Peter’s head, taking a few steps back, and turns to look at me, his breathing ragged.
“Please, leave us,” I order once more in a softer, pleading voice.
Without another word, he leaves the room again, and I attempt to swallow down my frustration for a moment. But it doesn’t work.
Reaching down my legs, I pull out a small dagger from its holder that was attached to my calf. The metal feels cold and heavy in my hand, a stark contrast to the heat of this confrontation. Fury roars in my mind, and I know that if I don’t stop now, there’s no telling what I’ll do.
But I can’t stop.
The only way to end the cycle of pain and destruction is to extinguish the source.
Blood runs down Peter’s chin. “Even if you kill me, you’ll never escape me, Angelica.”
