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My god, Bosco wasn’t kidding.
“Any last words?” Bosco extended his hand to one of his men, silently asking for a blade.
One of them unsheathed a knife from his own belt and placed it in Bosco’s palm.
Bosco gripped it and held it at his side, his fingers exploring the grip.
I opened the car door and got out. “He’s the one who tortured Mia.” I wanted Bosco to know that this man deserved the highest amount of suffering, that he didn’t even deserve last words. Every man deserved one last wish—but not this guy.
Bosco’s men motioned me to get back in the car.
Bosco didn’t take his eyes off his captive, as if he didn’t acknowledge what I’d said. “You raped and tortured an innocent woman for three years—and took her away from her son.” He gripped the blade even harder, making his knuckles turn white.
I knew the part about Luca bothered him the most since he’d lost his own mother.
Egor stared at him but didn’t confirm it. “You are—”
Bosco moved in a flash, yanking him by the hair and dragging him across the sidewalk.
Egor grunted and tried to swat his hands away.
When Bosco had him right next to the sewer, he brought his knife to Egor’s throat and did the job, making Egor look into the sewer as he did it. “Your blood isn’t even good enough for shit.” He released his hair and let him fall forward, the blood dripping everywhere.
Egor made choking sounds until he bled out and died.
I watched the whole thing, wanting to see this man dead.
Bosco stared at him even when it was certain Egor was dead. “Burn his men alive,” he ordered, holding out the bloody knife for someone to take. “And leave his body here. Tell the police not to move it until it starts to rot.”
Just when I thought this was all over, more cars pulled up.
The men raised their weapons and prepared to fire.
I recognized the man who rose from behind the driver’s door. It was my father.
“Lower your weapons,” Bosco commanded his men with a subtle wave of his hand.
My father didn’t care about Egor or Bosco. “Where is she?”
Carter got out of the passenger seat. Uncle Crow was with them too. They were all armed with artillery too. They must have known Egor was coming to get me, but since they had to drive from Tuscany, it took them much longer to get here.
I got out of the car. “Father, I’m okay.”
His eyes settled on me, and a wave of relief flashed across his face—and then the tears emerged. “Sweetheart.” He ran to me and wrapped his arms around me, his body acting as a cocoon to keep me safe. He cupped the back of my head and pressed his face against my forehead.
I felt his tears drip onto my face.
“My little girl…” He squeezed me harder and wept, not caring about the dozens of men standing around watching. He didn’t care about Bosco. He didn’t care about crying in front of his brother. “The whole drive here… I couldn’t…” He couldn’t get the words out, overcome with emotion. He was the strongest man I’d ever known, and not once in my life had I see him cry.
I cried too. “I’m okay…”
He kissed my forehead three times, his hands cupping my face. “I know. That’s why I can’t stop crying.” He pulled away and allowed me to see the tears that reflected in his eyes. “Because I’m so damn grateful you’re okay. It’s hard enough to know what Mia went through…but not my girl too.”
Watching him cry made me cry harder. “I’m right here… I’m not going anywhere. I’m safe. Egor’s gone…”
“I know.” He closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath, forcing himself to bottle up his emotion. “Your face is red. Do you need to see a doctor?”
“No. I hurt him way more than he hurt me.”
A painful smile moved onto his lips. “Attagirl.” He cupped my cheeks and kissed me on the forehead. “I love you so much, Carmen. I can’t even begin to describe…”
“I know you do… I love you too.”
He looked at me again and wiped his tears on the sleeve of his jacket. He cleaned up the best he could before he turned back to Bosco and everyone else. He obviously wasn’t ashamed of his tears.
Bosco met his gaze then nodded to Egor’s body. “I took care of it.”
Carter was standing over the corpse. He stared without blinking, and then without preamble, he spat on him.
Crow stayed in the back, his gun in his holster because there was no more fighting to do.
Bosco looked just as pissed off as before. “This is the man who hurt Mia. Why is he after my woman?” He didn’t seem to care how he referred to me in front of my family. He was still in the fog of war, acting savage and barbaric. He’d acted this way when he fought The Butcher in the ring. There was no reasoning with him when he got like this.
