He shakes his head, and I can practically see all the comments on the end of his tongue, yet none of them are worthy of being voiced, nothing strong enough to convey his intense disgust. So instead of giving a whole spiel about how his father has fucked with his life since the moment he could walk, Roman simply reaches for the heavy chain dangling from the ceiling.
He pulls it down and binds his wrists before nodding toward Marcus, who hits a button. The chains immediately begin retracting, lifting Giovanni up until his feet are dangling above the blood-soaked ground.
Giovanni stares back at his eldest son through his one remaining eye, not even having the energy to spit at him. Blood trails down his face and I’m pretty damn sure he pissed his pants, but the way he looks at Roman, it’s clear that he fears him most. Marcus is unhinged in the most brutal ways and Levi … Levi is as fucked as they come, but Roman … Roman plays the game. Roman is the silent one, always thinking, always planning. He’s ruthless.
“You’re done taking from me,” Roman tells him. “Ariana. Felicity. Shayne. You took them from me and you poisoned them with yourself, but you underestimated Shayne. She can’t be held down, and the only reason why I haven’t ended your life yet is because I think she deserves it more.”
Giovanni’s eye flickers toward me and I’m met with nothing but fear. “Have you heard the news, father? The priest accidentally fucked up the paperwork. She was never yours. It’s funny how easy it is to make just the slightest amendment to a marriage certificate. Though, I guess I’ve got you to thank for that. If you weren’t so egotistical in giving me your name, it might not have been so easy.”
Giovanni’s face falls, realizing exactly what we’ve been up to, but Roman’s not nearly done twisting the blade in his back. “You made the biggest mistake of your life the day you set your vile sights on her. Look at her, look how she shines. You didn’t break her, you only made her realize just how fucking strong she is. Shayne’s going to take your life and then she’s going to be worshipped as the leader of the Moretti empire for the rest of her life. She holds the power, and you will die knowing that everything you worked toward, everything you poisoned with your venom was all for nothing.”
Roman laughs and takes a step back before pulling his gun. He lets off two perfect shots and I jump with the suddenness, the sound booming through my chest. Giovanni cries out, heavy groans and whimpers filling the room as both his knees bleed.
Roman doesn’t outright grin like his brothers had done, but I see the sick enjoyment in his eyes, and it gets me hot. There’s nothing like these men when they’re in the zone.
He walks across the room to a small table and scans over the selection of tools he placed there a little over an hour ago. He glances back at his father and considers his condition, knowing that whatever he does to him has to leave his heart beating, and if I’m completely honest, if I don’t get to hear him scream when I put my hands on him, I’m going to be pissed.
Roman picks up sharp needle-like pins, at least thirty centimeters long while also reaching for a hammer. I don’t see how many of the needle pins he grabs, but I hear the metal in his hands and know there’s got to be at least four of them.
Stepping up in front of his father, he places the pins at his feet, keeping just one in his hand and the hammer in his other. He scans over his father’s naked torso, looking past the wounds Marcus left behind. “I’m not going to lie, Father. This isn’t going to be comfortable but please, be a good sport and try not to move.”
Then without a second of hesitation, he presses the tip to his father’s skin, directly between his ribs and slams the hammer against the end. The pin pierces through his skin and Roman hammers it again, letting the pin perforate his lung.
A giddy satisfaction tears through me and I peek toward Marcus and Levi who both watch with cocky, delighted grins on their handsome faces. I’ve seen the boys do some really fucked-up things, but this is a whole new level of twisted.
The pin protrudes from his body and even the slightest flinch would have agony tearing through his body. But Roman DeAngelis has never been the type to stop after one, trust me, I know.
He scoops another pin off the ground and presses it to the hollow just beneath his shoulder before going ham on his ass. The pin pierces through his shoulder and Roman keeps going until he sees the bloodied tip from his father’s back.
Pin number three goes through his thigh while the fourth and final goes horizontally through his waist, starting above his left hip and piercing through to the right. It’s a masterpiece, absolutely brilliant.
Considering himself thoroughly satisfied, Roman turns and meets my eyes. “You ready?”
I stare at him in wonder. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard when we’re done here.”
“Damn straight, you will.”
And with that, Roman steps aside and lets me at him.
37
Slipping my hand into big, thick rubber gloves and pulling them right up to my shoulders, I get myself ready to stare down the man who abused the boys, the man who caused them insufferable pain, murdered their mother, and stole from them for years. The man who locked them up and nearly slaughtered them on the lawn outside their family home.
This is the man who’s raped multiple woman, slaughtered Ariana’s family, forced her into a loveless marriage, and stole her away from Roman, breaking his heart for the first time. The man who forced himself on Felicity, who got her pregnant and locked her in a cell where she birthed her child in fear and bled out. The man who sold countless women and children into slavery, and the man who then forced himself on me.
He tried to own me like he’s done in the past, tried to destroy me and plague my heart with fear, but he picked the wrong bitch to fuck with.
He hangs limply, pins sticking out all over his body, gaping bullet holes where his knees used to be, stab wounds, and a missing eye. And honestly, he’s never looked so good. At least, through my eyes.
Giovanni doesn’t have the energy to lift his head, but something tells me that when it comes down to it, he’ll find whatever energy he needs to settle that raging need for anguish inside my chest.
Picking up my tool, I stride across the padded cell and grin at the fucker. “Well, hello there. Fancy meeting you down here,” I say. “I trust your stay has been welcoming.”
A deep growl tears through his chest and I laugh, searching the area around me. “You’ll have to forgive me, I have so many things and nowhere to put them,” I say, before looping the handle of the big scissors over the pin protruding from his ribs. I drop their weight against it and smile sweetly and he growls with agony. “Ahhh, yes. This is perfect.”
I step in nice and close before gripping the front of his pants and tearing them open. The loose trousers fall to his ankles and I laugh, looking at the piss stains on the front of his old man boxers. “Ahhh, shit. Good thing I’ve got my gloves on,” I tell him before winking, just to drive the humiliation home. “But it’s okay, I’m sure it happens to everyone.”
Gripping the edges of his boxers, I yank them down and expose his limp cock, not at all impressed with what I’m seeing. Though, I already knew that. I wasn’t impressed then, and I’m sure as hell not impressed now. “Wow, you really don’t have much in common with your sons, huh?” I ask, because why the hell not insult the size of his dick? “It’s okay, between you and me, it’s not like you’re going to have much use for it anymore.”