Tears fell from her dark eyes. “Camillo, for our son...”
“Oh, yes. Speaking of which.” Drawing a cry of pain from her lips, I plunged my hand into her curls and dragged her out of the room. She stumbled, but despite her whimpers, didn't resist. When we entered the child's room, I threw her against the crib. “Tell me, Vale, how does it feel when they take away what we love the most?” And I turned on the light. I turned on the light so she could see the bullet I had put in the boy's head.
My son...I shook my head.NO.He wasn't mine.
“Mar—Marcello?” She sobbed, tears streaming from her eyes, her hands feeling the lifeless body of the baby. “Oh, no...” Her cries filled the house. She fell onto the crib soaked in blood and howled in pain. A pain I recognized perfectly, the same I had felt when she stole everything from me. “Monster... MONSTER!”
She lunged in my direction. The white satin of her nightgown stained with blood and her face contorted with hatred and pain.With a simple punch to the stomach, I bent her at my feet, and with a knee to the face, I left her stunned on the floor, blood gushing from her nose.
But I wasn't done yet. Oh, no. I would make sure she would suffer in the same way I did before taking her life.
I unlocked my phone and held it in front of her face, pressing play.
“My men paid a visit to your dear parents.”
Valentina sat up. Her features twisted, her mouth opening in a silent scream as she saw two gagged figures kneeling in an abandoned warehouse. The video was dark, but it lit up as one of my men flicked a lighter and set the hostages ablaze. Valentina's parents burned alive, howling in pain as the flames consumed the gasoline they had been doused with and, subsequently, their bodies.
There was something very interesting about human beings. The deeper the pain, the quieter their cries.
Valentina sobbed quietly, convulsing on the floor just as I had done. She was confronted with the consequences of her ambition and brought face to face with death.
With my foot, I turned her to face me, pressing the sole against her chest. She grabbed my leg, trying to scratch me through my pants without success.
“Now, Tesoro, you already know how I felt.”
“You're a monster, Camillo. A monster...” She cried, realizing that no matter how much she struggled, it would be in vain. “Our son was innocent. My parents were innocent.”
I pressed my foot against her chest, watching her fight for air.
“Innocence is a matter of perspective.” I growled, remembering my Mamusia, my Nonna, and my Zia. As much as they fervently defended their husbands and children, they were women who would never deliberately harm anyone. They knew how much life was worth and how much it cost to lose it. Yet, they were described as criminals, their deaths celebrated. “It's a pity you understand this too late, Tesoro.”
My boot came down again and again, the sickening crunch of bone echoing in the silent room.
Fell enough times on Valentina's chest to break her bones and crush her organs. I stomped on her with all the hatred I had inside me, with the images of my parents' lifeless bodies burning in my mind. When I stopped, I was out of breath and she was lifeless, her eyes and mouth wide open, staring at some point on the ceiling.
I lit a cigarette and watched her, enveloped in the deathly silence that filled the house. There was an undeniable twisted irony in all of it. I had become exactly what she had tried to prevent.
A monster.
Chapter 12
Daisy Peonia Mary Parker
July, 2025
29 years old
Silver River, South Mississippi, USA
Present
“Daisy Doll! Pancakes for Mr. Arnold.”
I hurried into the kitchen. Smiling at Oliver, I grabbed the plate from his inked hands. “Well, well! Look who’s in such a good mood today!” I joked, finding my boss with a smile from ear to ear, wearing a white shirt and suit pants, which was quite surprising considering he never gave up his biker style. “Does it have anything to do with a certain aunty of mine?”
He laughed, scratching his bald head. “Do you think Lizzie will like it?”
I assessed him with a demanding pout and a wrinkled nose. “I think she prefers you in retired biker mode. But you look pretty good in that outfit.”
