“You try telling him that.”
“Your little brother is young and stupid. I’m afraid his stupidity will guide him, and he won’t stop until he’s proven to everyone that he is the rightful Boss of the Fattore family.”
“And to do that, he needs to kill me.” I swallowed the last bit of my drink and joined Uncle Gino by the table.
“Not necessarily.” He poured himself another drink. “You killed your mother, Vico’s mother, in order to save the person that, in his eyes, was the reason he lost a brother and a father. To him, and a lot of other members of this family, Tatum is to blame for everything.”
I slammed my empty glass down on the table. “Lies! Those are all fucking lies, and I proved it.”
“Yes. You proved it the same day you spilled your mother’s blood. Now tell me, Castello, how would you feel, how would you react, if you were on the other side of this situation?”
“Were you not the one who told me that my mother was a liar? That she was manipulating all of us?”
“Yes. And the day you opened your eyes to your mother’s lies was one of the happiest days of my life.”
“Then why does it sound like you’re accusing me?”
He stepped closer, and I had to ball my fists in an attempt to control my anger, my confusion as to what the hell Uncle Gino was trying to say.
“I’m not accusing you of anything, Castello. I know you acted on impulse and did what you thought was right. I don’t think killing your mother was something you did intentionally. But Vico does, and I’m trying to let you see why his sole purpose now would be to destroy you.”
I poured myself another drink and tossed the alcohol down my throat in one huge gulp. “If Vico thinks he has it in him to destroy me, he’s an even bigger idiot than I thought.”
“Do not underestimate your brother, Castello. He has already played one card by having the balls to approach a supplier this family has been working with for the last twenty years.”
“He won’t succeed in his endeavor by trying to discredit me, Uncle.”
He grabbed my shoulders, and I could see the resolve, the determination in his eyes as he stared at me. “Then you need to take what is rightfully yours. You need to make every member of this family see, including your little brother, that you are the rightful leader. Not Vico. Now think, boy, think about what you would have done if you were in Vico’s shoes. If you were the one who saw his own brother murder their mother, saving the woman he hated the most.”
It took me all of two seconds to realize that I would probably have felt exactly the same way Vico did. If it was me, I would have demanded revenge. I would have done everything in my power to destroy those I felt was guilty…like I did when I still blamed Tatum for the loss of my twin brother.
The answer was simple. “I would destroy those responsible.”
“How?”
“By letting him feel pain worse than death. I would take from him that which he hold dearest.”
Uncle Gino let go of my arms and stepped back. “And what do you hold dearest, Castello?”
Jesus. Deep down, I knew this all along.
Deep down, I knew that Vico would want Tatum dead. But somehow I convinced myself that he would want to bury my corpse much more than hers. And I had silently hoped that Vico would be happy just by having half of the Fattore family under his command, following him. But now…now that I finally saw this entire situation through Vico’s eyes, there was no doubt in my mind that Tatum would be his target.
“I won’t let him touch her.”
“You did once.”
I narrowed my eyes, glaring at him. “That was different.”
“Was it?”
“Yes.”
He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “And how was it any different then than it is now?”
Anger started to simmer inside my gut, my vision slowly starting to turn into shades of red. The memory of Vico beating Tatum, bound by chains and hanging naked from the ceiling, infested my mind.
It was all my doing. I started it. I was the one that hung her by those chains in the first place. And by God, I loved the sight. I loved how vulnerable she looked. How she stared at me with pleading eyes, knowing all too well that she was completely and utterly at my mercy. Right then, I already knew that fucking Tatum was inevitable. I knew that my rage and my hunger for revenge weren’t nearly as strong as my desire to unleash the sexual dominance she so desperately craved. It was written all over her face, the evidence engraved with white scars on her body. She yearned for something more, something that stemmed from darkness, yet shamelessly bloomed in her soul.