Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
She steps forward then, close enough that he can see the fire in her gaze. “You made your choice,” she says, her voice cold as ice. “Now live with the consequences.”
Before Alexis can react, she snatches the blade resting loosely in his palm and plunges it into Enzo’s chest.
“NO,” we all shout in unison, not because we want Enzo to live but because none of us want Aemelia to live with this blood on her hands. I’d shoulder that burden for her. All of us would. But it’s done now.
Enzo’s eyes are wide as he stares at his niece, leaning over him. “An eye for an eye,” she says softly. “You better hope my family is okay, or I’ll come looking for yours.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but a well of blood spills over his lip with a gurgle of garbled sound. His gasped breathing is wet, forming bubbles in the blood that coats his lips.
I think about all the years we’ve grieved our brother while the opportunity for retribution was out of our hands. Now, we find out Enzo took Carlo’s life for his own vengeance. What a twisted situation. What a waste of anger and pain. All because Mario and Carlo couldn’t respect the marriage vows of others.
Aemelia steps back, but she doesn’t take her eyes off her uncle. She watches him twitch and gasp and choke, watching him take his last breath and flop forward, limp, as life drains from him.
Alexis shakes his head. “A made man dying like a dog in the dark.”
“Justice,” I say as Aemelia finally turns away to seek comfort in my arms. I’m so proud of her and devastated for her. This life. All it does is take. “And justice in our world is never merciful.”
She shakes in my arms, the shock of what she’s done registering too late. I cradle her close. “Forget about this,” I say. “I’ll take your darkness and make it mine. I’ll carry it, so you never have to.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, and it’s enough
37
ALEXIS
FAMILY TIES
I leave Aemelia with Luca and Antonio, trusting them to keep her safe and ensure the mess is cleared up. This war with Enzo is reaching its peak, and while my brothers handle one end of the battlefield, I take four of my best men—Nico, Leo, Rafa, and his brother, Sandro—to handle the other.
The ride to Aemelia’s aunt’s apartment is tense, the low growl of the engine the only sound as we weave through the city streets. Vito, Andre, Gabe, and Matteo got there ahead of us, and their last update confirmed two of Enzo’s men had been captured and another three were being pursued. That’s a small comfort. It means we still have the upper hand—barely.
As we pull up outside the building, I survey the rundown complex again with a frown. The place is a dump, bricks crumbling, windows stained with years of city grime—no place for anyone, least of all the mother of the woman we love.
Vito and Andre are waiting by the side entrance, their boots planted firmly against the backs of two restrained men who are on their knees, heads bowed in forced submission. One of the bastards is bleeding from his temple, his face half-swollen, while the other keeps his mouth shut, likely contemplating how much more of his own blood he’s willing to lose tonight.
“Where are they?” I ask, stepping out of the vehicle, the night air sharp against my skin.
Vito jerks his chin toward the alleyway. “They can’t have gotten far. There’s an alley further down. Try there first.”
I nod once, imagining Aemelia’s sick aunt out in the cold. That motherfucker Enzo trying to kill a woman who’s already on her deathbed. If Aemelia hadn't pierced his heart with my knife, I’d have done it with pleasure. Remembering the cool way she handled business makes me smile. She’s fire and ice, heart and blood, sweet and vicious, a delicious conundrum. “Secure these two. I’ll handle the family.”
Vito grins. “Already got a place picked out for them. They won’t be a problem.”
I wave him off and gesture at Leo and Nico to follow me. The alleyway is dark, the weak glow of a flickering streetlamp barely illuminating the narrow path between buildings. The scent of rotting garbage clings to the damp air, and my stomach turns at the thought of Aemelia’s family crouched out here, hiding like prey.
Then I see them.
Carmella Lambretti clutches her sister, her body curled around the frail woman, shielding her from the night’s cold. Aemelia’s brother, Carlo Junior, pale and gaunt, is crouched beside them, his arms wrapped around himself, shaking with either fear or withdrawal—I don’t have the patience to figure out which right now.
I approach slowly, hands visible, voice low but firm. “Signora Lambretti.”
Her head snaps up, eyes wild, rimmed with exhaustion. “Venturi—”