“Christian,” Siân screams. “Don’t,” she pleads, but I know it’s more about her not wanting to see any more death than it is about saving his life.
I glance over at her, taking in the shock and separation in his eyes.
She shakes her head. “Don’t do it. He’s not worth it.”
She means well, and it’s cute that she still thinks there is some saving my conscience. That ship sailed long before I ever had a choice in my life. And in this world, every threat is worth it. If I don’t kill him tonight, he’ll never stop coming after her or me now that his plan has been revealed. There is truth to her statement, though.
His actions ultimately lead me to her, no matter how twisted the union may be. And despite his demented ideology toward his own bloodline, it was Enzo who earned this honor the most.
“I promised my new wife a life for a life,” I seethe, and he stares at me.
A man afraid of nothing, even with my gun pressed to his throat, he’s unbothered.
“You made me kill her father, and I was going to let her watch me kill you, but I think there is someone else more deserving,” I continue.
He laughs. It’s low at first but slowly grows into a fit of hysteria. “Her? Like she has it in her. Look at you. You can’t even do it yourself. Before, you never would have hesitated. She’s made you weak,” he taunts, digging deep with his insults.
“Sono abbastanza sicuro che si riferisca a me.” I’m pretty sure he means me. Enzo’s deep voice and accent comes from behind me.
From the corner of my eye, I notice him entering the room. Samuele strains to see, his eyes growing wide, when he finally realizes that his plan has completely backfired.
“Sembra che l'unica persona che viene sostituita qui sei tu. E mentre il tuo freddo cadavere marcisce sottoterra, io rivendicherò tutto ciò che hai costruito,” I whisper. It seems the only person being replaced here is you. And while your cold dead body rots underground, I’ll be laying claim to everything you’ve built.
He laughs again. “You’ll never live up to my name. I made this fucking family. I made you.”
“You’re right about one thing. You did make me, which is exactly why I’m going to enjoy watching him put a bullet through your skull.”
Releasing him with a jerk, I walk backward, giving Enzo the signal to claim his life for himself. He denied him, left him for dead at the tender age of four. Samuele deserves to die today, and Enzo is the one owed the most.
A smile creeps up onto my brother's face, and something inside me tingles out of familiarity. I guess we’re more alike than Samuele gave either of us credit for. Sam tries again to reach for his gun.
“Don’t be foolish,” Enzo taunts.
“Let me guess. You want revenge for me shooting you?” Sam asks Enzo.
He shakes his head. “That would be pointless. I’m very much alive. But if you like, call it vengeance.”
And with that, Enzo puts two slugs through his chest. Two holes, dripping blood in a spot identical to where Sam shot him. Karma is a bitch, and Sam’s has finally caught up with him. He lets out a deep cry, his body thrashing in pain. Enzo watches for a moment, almost as if he’s savoring the image of our father fighting for his last breaths. And just when I think we can’t be any more alike, Enzo walks around the desk, stepping closer, then brings the tip of the Glock flush against his head. Without blinking, or even a breath, he pulls the trigger, grinning as the life drains from Samuele's eyes.
Siân screams, her legs giving out on her. Quickly, I manage to catch her, keeping her up with one arm around her waist. Her mouth is wide open, only no sound is coming out. She’s stunned, her fear stuck in her throat. She holds on to me, fighting to let air into her lungs.
“You’re okay. Just breathe. It’s all over now,” I encourage, then peek over my shoulder at the scene.
We started the night on a different note, but in the end, Siân was right for what she said to us. Enzo is not my enemy. Samuele pitted us against each other. He lied to me, raised me to be like him, only to betray me. He discarded Enzo, made him an orphan, and left him to die. Samuele is who needed to pay, and now he has.
But one fact still remains. Our father might have orchestrated this whole thing, but Enzo played his part.
“Fratello?” I call out. Brother?
Enzo lowers his gun and slowly turns in my direction. When he does, I lift my weapon and let one off on his shoulder. He grunts, immediately gripping his wound to control the blood that is already gushing out.