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Pushing open the door, it creaks, drawing his attention. He stares up at me, his cigar hanging between his lips. Samuele reaches for his drink, slowly bringing it to his lip, then settles back in his seat.
“It’s inhospitable to run away from your own wedding reception. Where have you been?” He asks nonchalantly.
I’m fuming. “You know exactly where I’ve been. But I guess you expected I’d be dead by now,” I quip.
“And why would you think that?”
“Why don’t you tell me about Enzo?” I direct with a tilt of my chin.
My father locks his fingers together, bringing them to his face while he rests his chin against his knuckles. The bastard. He sits there, not an expression on his hideous mug.
It takes everything in me not to jump across that fucking desk and put a bullet between his eyes. To finally put an end to this once and for all. If what Enzo told me is true, good riddance. But I need to hear it for myself.
I shouldn’t care about the truth. My entire life, it’s just been him, me, and this business. There were no feelings, no emotions, no time to mourn, crave, or desire a maternal touch. But hearing the word that came from Enzo’s mouth, the inhuman nature in which he killed her. I didn’t even know her, and I felt my heart rip from my chest as the words left Enzo’s lips.
All this time. All the lies. All the years I spent living under his thumb, and he just decided to get rid of me. Is that what it was like with them? He was bored with her, so he killed her and tried to kill Enzo. But what if I wasn’t drawn to the darkness? Would he have killed me too?
I need to know.
“You sent him to kill me, right? That was your plan, wasn’t it? To introduce me to the brother you never told me about as I stare down the barrel of his gun?”
“What difference does it make? You survived, standing in that very spot.”
“That’s what you have to say? I survived. Why?”
“Why not?”
I stand stunned, briefly caught off guard by his rebuttal.
“You stand there as if your presence is going to steer something in me. As if you want some sort of an apology. You’re mistaken if you think you’re getting that. Enzo—your brother, as you so quickly claimed, was a means to an end.”
“Even as a child?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Was he a means to an end when you raised your pistol to the chest of a four-year-old? Was she—the mother you stole from me? If they were just a means to an end, why did you choose me?”
“You could have easily been a means to an end as well. You’re looking for remorse, and you should know better than anyone. It’s a fool’s errand. You want an I’m sorry and—”
“I want to hear it from your mouth. For years you failed to mention a mother or a brother as if never speaking of their existence would keep it hidden.”
“Surely you didn’t expect me to explain the laws of reproduction, Christan. I mean, has it not been your mission to knock up that…”
He stops short, a smile brimming on his lips when he looks past me.
“Little bitch.” His grin widens.
“Christian,” Siân’s soft voice sounds off behind me.
I glance back over my shoulder, recognizing the fear and panic on her face. It’s the same expression she had at that warehouse tonight. She’s worried about me. But it’s not just that. This is about what she’s asked of me. I saw it tonight at the reception as she sat disembodied next to me. She spent it at the moment. Hate and passion would do that to you. But as the day went on, as she stewed with her stance, she realized she regretted ever having the thought.
“Siân, leave,” I demand while turning my attention back to Samuele.
“Still protecting her. Haven’t you figured out that she’s been the root of all of this? You and this incessant desire to have her. She’s ruined you.”
“I’m your son and have done every fucking thing you’ve ever asked of me. And now you try to end me?”
“And that’s supposed to mean something?”
“I forgot. You have no problem killing a son. You chose me over Enzo, but now you want me dead?”
“I would have settled for just her. But you had to interfere. You’re worthless to me now. Enzo was a means to an end, and now he can be a means of replacement. Maybe finally, your little bitch will die when I order it and stay that way.”
Before I realize what’s happening, I move around his desk, reaching for his throat. He slaps my hands away, immediately reaching for the gun under his desk at the same time as I pull mine from behind my back. But I’m quicker and press the barrel into his neck, surely pushing against an artery.
