Vito chuckled and dug his fingers deeper into my arm, causing me to grit my teeth in pain. “Could I father? You know I would love to kill her.”
I blinked and tried to shove away the pain.
My stepfather came closer and shook his head. “No, Vito. Our Bella is more valuable alive.”
Vito's shoulders slumped and his head hung low. The anger and aggression that had burned in his eyes moments before was now replaced with a sullen and defeated look. “Damn it. I thought I would at least get to kill her.”
Is he really serious?
“I know, Vito. I know.” My stepfather bobbed his head and walked over. “We have talked about your. . .hungerfor these things, but remember. . .our limits are with family.”
Vito frowned.
My baby brother had clearly become a psychopath. The realization settled over me like a numbing veil, and it was suffocating and inescapable.
I had seen the small clues before I left that cursed estate—the way as a kid he’d delighted in causing pain, the gleam in his eyes when he caught sight of something vulnerable—a kitten, an injured bird.
But back then, I was young myself and had pushed those thoughts aside, convincing myself that he was just a troubled child, a product of the violent world we had been thrust into.
Now, standing before him, I knew the truth.
There would be no turning back for Vito.
No escape from the monster he had become.
How could this have happened?
How could the sweet, innocent boy I once knew have transformed into this terrifying creature?
I tried to reconcile the memories of the brother I had once adored with the man now standing before me, his cruel smirk and cold eyes a massive difference to the boy who used to giggle in my arms.
I remembered our mother cradling him when he was just a baby, her face glowing with love and pride.
She had doted on him, as had I.
He was her precious son—the baby.
I could still see her holding him close, whispering sweet lullabies into his tiny ear and rocking him gently to sleep. His tiny laughter had been infectious.
When Vito was toddler, he used to cling to me. His chubby fingers would grip mine as we walked together through the gardens of our home.
He would look up at me with those big hazel eyes, eyes that now were now empty and devoid of warmth.
All those memories belonged to another lifetime.
My stepfather got to my side and patted Vito’s shoulder. “Relax, son.”
Finally, my brother let me go.
I looked down at my arm and saw deep, jagged cuts from my brother's nails. My brown skin was now raw and red around the edges.
Blood beaded from the wounds.
Maximo spoke, “You want me to be proud of you? Then do what’s right for this family. That’s how you earn more of my respect, Bella.”
I no longer want your damn respect.
Shivering, I put my view back on my stepfather.
