While I slowly walked toward him, I flicked the pad of my thumb across the blade. It stung. It burned. But I didn’t care. All I cared about was giving this man what he so much deserved.
The closer I came to him, the more he struggled against his bounds. The ropes around his arms and legs were cutting into his flesh, smears of blood coating his raw skin.
It happened so fast, the swing of my arm and the flick of my wrist. And then blood oozing from a gaping cut in his cheek.
The sounds that came out of his mouth were both horrifying and satisfying. Without a tongue, he couldn’t scream. It was only grunting sounds of pain that came from the back of his throat, tears streaming down his face.
“Did you look her in the eye?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. “Did you look my mother in the eye when you sliced her throat?”
The only answer I got was the look of fear in his green eyes. My mind was still stuck in the past, still reliving that night. And while I remembered the blood, and the fear, and the utter horror of that ten-year-old girl, I circled Renato, watching while tears streamed down his face. His cheeks were sunken, his naked shoulders bony. It was obvious that he had been starved while Antonio and Lucio kept him here.
Good.
As I passed behind him, I dragged the blade from his right shoulder blade all the way to the left. Blood oozed out of his skin, escaping like teardrops down his back. It was poetic, actually, his body sobbing with tears of blood.
I had forgotten about Antonio and Lucio being there. In my mind, it was just me and the devil who took my mother away from me.
I stilled in front of him and watched as the blood from his cheek dripped onto his naked chest. It was fucking liberating.
“Look at me,” I ordered, but he kept shaking his head. The hate inside me took over, and I launched forward, reaching out, grabbing his hair and yanking his head back, forcing him to look at me.
With the tip of my blade pressed beneath his ear, I leaned closer, wanting to smell the scent of his blood. “I want you to look me in the eye while I dig my blade into your skin, slicing your throat from ear to fucking ear.”
Slowly, and with fucking precision, I started to carve the sharp edge of my blade through his flesh. I was moving so slowly, I could practically feel the way his skin tore apart, all the while I held his panicked gaze.
Inch by inch. Little by little, I took from him what he had taken from both me and my mother.
Life.
He gurgled, his breath heavy as he tried to force out his voice. I leaned forward, trying to hear what he was saying. But without a tongue, and my hand continuing to tear through his flesh, I could hardly hear a thing…until I did. I heard it. I heard the word he tried to spit out. It was unclear, almost inaudible. If I hadn’t heard the word before, I never would have been able to make it out.
Mancuso.
Chapter 15
Antonio
There she was. My fucking queen. God, she was beautiful. The strength, the power that radiated from her while she sliced the fucker from ear to ear was exquisite. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The way her face went from soft innocence to cold, hard stone was the best sight in the world. Her eyes seemed more alive than ever before while Renato’s blood oozed from his neck, the red dripping down his chest. I knew this moment would be perfectly toxic, the moment when I finally witnessed my filthy, broken girl become a strong, resplendent queen. My cock was so fucking hard it throbbed.
I nodded toward Lucio, dismissing him. He retreated, taking every man in the warehouse with him. But I knew they wouldn’t go far. Lucio still had the place surrounded with enough ammo to start World War Three.
Doe straightened, still clutching the bloody blade in her hands. The second she turned, our gazed locked, and I lost it. I lost all control. The lust, the need, the ultimate desire to take what was mine was too fucking strong. And now that my queen had finally risen from the ashes, embraced what I knew was in her blood—strength—I was more in love with her than ever before.
I launched forward, crashing my lips against hers. I didn’t care that she had another man’s blood on her hands. I didn’t care that her clothes were stained with crimson. All I cared about was worshipping her.
While my tongue swept through her mouth, eager to consume her, I placed my hands on her ass, lifting her up, allowing her to wrap her legs around me. The way she met my hard kiss with the same vigor, the same desperation, I knew she was just as fucking turned on as I was.
What a fucked-up pair we were.
I slammed her back against the steel cage, the sound of metal chains echoing through the empty building.
“Sei la mia regina ora.” You are my queen now.
“E tu sei il mio re.” And you are my king.
I stilled, staring down at her. “You speak Italian?”
Her smile was sexy and wicked at the same damn time. I didn’t wait for her answer, slamming my lips against hers once more. One hand fumbled with her dress, pulling it up over her hips while my fingers tore at her panties. Her hands gripped my hair, pulling me close against her. We were like to starved animals finally able to feast…on each other.