“Thank you! Now just fucking lay there.”
I sobbed harder, gasping for air. His weight on my chest and my crying kept me from getting a full breath,making melight-headed. Dots lined my hazy sight,and I tried to tell him I couldn’t breathe, but no words came out through the panicked sobs.
As darkness closed in on me, Mr. Moretti got up. The bed shifted next to me, but I stayedstill, focusing ontaking deep breaths. Every inch of me felt beaten,and I wasn’t sure how I was going to get out of the room.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his face lit by a phone’s screen. Shaking his head, he slid the phone back into his pocket and stood up.
“You know, I knew you’d be a problem before I ever met you.”
I turned my head slightly, watching as he walked up to the gilded mirror on the wall.
“Rosa told me not to worry.” He shook his head as he ran his fingers through his messed hair. “But even before Luca told us he was seeing someone, he’d started to change.”
Mr. Moretti’s eyes darted toward me before turning back to his reflection and dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief. “Luca was never like his brother. Never had the spine to carry this family,like Dantedid. No matter how hard I pushed him, he was soft. But magically, after they murdered Dante, Luca shaped up.”
He leaned closer to the mirror, his finger dabbing a spot on his shirt. “You got blood on me.” With a sigh,he removed his cummerbund.
“But we’re not together,” I whispered before I could stop myself.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re poison to him. With you,he’s vulnerable, soft. Without you,he’s ‘The Butcher.’ He’s a loose cannon. Do you know he killed his own cousin?”
I shook my head and immediately regretted it as the pain shot down my neck. I cradled my head,trying to stop the room from spinning, and felt warm, sticky dampness. Hands shaking, I brought them in front of my face. Dark red blood coated my fingers. Bile sat at the back of my throat,and I swallowed hard, trying to keep from adding vomit to my blood scattered across the room.
Mr. Moretti shrugged off his shirt and inspected his undershirt for splatter. “For you. He killedfamilybecause he found out there were some of us that wanted you gone.”
I scooted up to rest against the headboard. “Killing me won’t make him any less of a loose cannon.”
Tugging off his white undershirt, Mr. Moretti chuckled. “No, but it eliminates the possibility of a reconciliation.”
I stared at him. I didn’t know if it was the head injury or ifIwas just stupid, but I didn’t understand how killing me helped anything other than satisfy his dad’sdickishhate for me.
“And I can use his anger at your death to stop this ridiculous peace he is attempting by marrying that Chronis bitch. It’ll be a snap to frame Cy for your death. He already tried and failed a couple of times.”
My breathing became more labored. Luca told mepeople were coming for me, but Mr. Moretti didn’t have to be so nonchalant about it.
“It’ll be killing two birds with one bullet. I get my bloodthirsty son back, starting the war back up, and you’ll be gone, keeping him focused on what’s really important.”
He looked down at his hands and shook his head. He surprised me when he went into the bathroom,and I heard the water running. It was my chance to get the fuck out.
I kicked off my heels and jumped off the bed. Only seven steps, and my fingers wrapped around the handle. I pushed down, and the latch clicked. Before I could pull the door open, I was snatched back by my hair.
I flew back, landing flat on the floor, knocking the wind out of me. Before I could take a breath, Mr. Moretti was on me.His massive fists rained down on measI tried to guard my face with my forearms, but he was too fast.
Blindly, I reached until my hand landed on smooth leather—my stiletto. Gripping the middle of the shoe, I jammed the heel at his face. In a stroke of luck, the tip dug into the corner of his eye.
“Fuck!”
He scrambled to get off me, but I followed, shoving the four-inch red bottom into his eye socket.
His scream was deafening as he fell backward, his hands tugging the heel from his face. I didn’t give him a chance to get his bearings. I was on him in a second.
My hits may not have had finesse, but they did have the full force of my rage.
“You.” Hit. “Mother.” Hit. “Fucker.” Hit.
He tried to grab my hands, but he couldn’t catch me.
Taking the heel of my hand, I pushed down on the shoe still stuck in his eye. His fists flew, smacking into my face, but it didn’t matter. I only saw red. This time the blood wasn’t making me sick. It was fueling me.