Giovanni spits at him. “I will end you, boy. Release me now.”
“Even in death, you think you hold power over us,” Marc muses. “It’s nice to see that some things never change.”
“The family won’t stand for this,” Giovanni growls, anger flashing in his eyes as he pulls against the binds again. “They’ll have your heads for this and they won’t stop until you’re buried, your little bitch too.”
Marc laughs and moves in closer to his face before pointing to the small space above the door. “You mean the family who gave their full support?” he questions before sending a cheesy as fuck grin toward the camera. “Say hi, they’re all watching. The Morettis too. It’s like their own personal snuff film, though I have to admit, it’s a lot of pressure, all those eyes on us. But don’t worry, I have a few tricks up my sleeve. I’m sure they’ll be thoroughly entertained.”
Roman stands by my side, looking bored with Marcus’ theatrics, but I know deep down he’s getting a wicked kick out of it, just as I am. “Come on, brother. There’s only so long I will wait before stepping in.”
Marcus tsks him, holding up a finger and wagging it at him. “Now, now, Roman. Play fair. You know the rules,” he taunts. “The laws of rock, paper, scissors must be upheld.”
Roman rolls his eyes and Marcus turns his attention back to his father. “Do you remember when I was six? That was the first time you beat me black and blue. For what? Mouthing off like every kid is supposed to do.” Marcus’ fist slams into Giovanni’s gut, winding him, and the sound is like music to my ears. He hits him again, his fist striking out across his jaw and colliding with his face with the force of a freight train, knocking his teeth right out of his mouth.
Marcus laughs, getting the sickest enjoyment out of this, and all I can do is smile. It’s such a precious moment. I hope he pressed record on the live stream because there’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll want to watch this back.
Giovanni spits a mouthful of blood at Marcus and Marcus just laughs a little louder. “I’m surprised father, you’ve always been so put together. Surely you’re not going to resort to spitting now?”
He walks around him and Giovanni keeps his stare straight ahead, refusing to let Marcus break him, but it won’t be long. He'll be nothing but a shell before Marcus is even close to handing him over to Levi.
Marcus moves back in front of his father. “What about when I was eight and I found that stray puppy?” he says, a hint of anger in his obsidian eyes. The tip of his knife presses to Giovanni’s stomach, and I catch my breath, watching with wide eyes. “He had a broken leg and I nursed him back to health. He was the first thing I loved and you held a knife to my throat while forcing me to snap his neck. It gutted me,” Marcus says. “Do you know what that felt like?”
Without waiting for a response, Marcus slowly pushes against the knife, piercing through his stomach. Giovanni cries out in agony while Marcus relentlessly keeps going, his positioning perfect. Deep enough to cause the worst kind of agony, but not enough for him to bleed out before we’ve had our fun.
What can I say? Marcus is a gentleman like that.
Marcus goes on, tormenting his father in the worst way, burning him like he’d been burned, cutting him like he had been. Every foul memory living in the darkest parts of Marcus’ mind are recreated and freed from ever tormenting him again.
Forty-five minutes pass before Giovanni is black and blue and the true horror of what Marcus has suffered at his father’s hands comes to light. My heart shatters for him, but with each passing second, Marcus holds his head higher, the weight lifting off his shoulders.
Marcus steps aside, knowing if he doesn’t stop now, he’ll end up killing him before his brothers have had their chance to experience that same sense of relief. His eyes sparkling like it’s Christmas morning, he asks, “Who’s up next?”
Levi’s tongue rolls over his bottom lip, his eyes darkening with murderous rage. He walks over to his father and just stares at him, his shoulders pulled back with pride. “You never held the power to break us,” he tells him. “You tried. Fuck, did you try, but you never succeeded. All you did was ensure that when the time came, we were more than capable to see it through. You didn’t just create soldiers, you turned us into weapons to use at your beck and call, but what’s the first rule of playing with weapons, Father? Be sure of your target and what’s beyond it. You were always our target, right from the start, and you were too damn self-involved to see it.”
“Out of everything you want to say, boy,” Giovanni spits. “That’s the best you could come up with? You were never going to be strong enough for this life. You’re weak.”
He doesn’t waste any more time before reaching up and releasing the chains that hold him up. Giovanni falls heavily to the ground, his bloodied body sprawling out as Marcus and Roman move in with heavy restraints. They’re placed over Giovanni’s wrists and ankles, and just like that, Giovanni is nothing but a demon with his wings pinned.
Levi settles himself over his father’s chest, his knees on either side of Giovanni’s face, those strong thighs making it impossible for Giovanni to turn away. And damn, I can’t say he’s ever sat on me like that, but I just know Giovanni’s lungs are threatening to give out under the weight.
“That’s just your issue, Father,” Levi laughs, pulling a short dagger from the sheath at his side. “You’ve never seen us for what we are, but don’t worry. We’ve always seen you.” He leans forward, the tip of the knife dragging across his skin and leaving a trail of blood. “You’ve always been so blind to the world around you, but a blind man does not need his eyes to see.”
And just like that, the tip of the sharp dagger hits his eye.
Levi digs into his socket, the knife working its magic as Giovanni screams out, the blood-curdling sound sending shivers crawling across my skin. Blood pours from his eye as Levi severs the ligaments and muscles attaching his eye to his face, and after getting bored with the knife, he throws it aside and replaces it with his fingers.
He pries his eyeball right out of his head as his father screams, and I swear that Levi doesn’t even hear it. It’s as though he’s so taken with his task at hand that the rest of the world has fallen away, and I don’t blame him.
A moment passes when Levi stands off his father’s chest and holds the bloodied eyeball up to the light, a grin stretching across his face, pride settling into his handsome face. He nods to himself, as if completely satisfied and as he goes to toss the eyeball aside, a gasped squeak tears from the back of Marcus’ throat.
Levi glances up at him to see his hand outstretched and a pleading desperation in his eyes. Levi sighs and tosses him the eyeball and Marcus scoops it out of the air before grinning manically and slipping the fucking thing straight into his pocket.
“That’s it?” Roman questions as Levi falls back beside me. Levi nods and Roman grunts. “Huh, figured you’d be throwing punches for hours.”
Levi shrugs before his eyes bug out of his head and he rushes forward before Roman gets a chance to take over. Levi crouches down and tears the family rings off his father’s fingers. “You won’t be needing these,” he says, looking all too smug. I don’t really understand the significance of the rings, but where Levi is involved, I’m sure it’s just another knife right through the back.
Leaving his father for Roman, Levi moves away and I watch as Roman kicks the heavy restraints off his father’s wrists and ankles. The fucker curls into a ball, gripping on to the worsening wounds at his waist, courtesy of Marcus.
Roman scoffs, looking down at the sight before him. “Pathetic.”