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The room remains silent, and I don’t dare look away from him. It is as if it is a contest to see who will give mercy first. I have the strength my mother had given to me.

“You cannot kill all these people simply because they owe you money,” I grind out. It is a whisper, but I know he hears me. I know he understands what I am saying.

My words mean nothing to him, though. I know it the moment he throws me to the ground. My body falls hard as my head smacks off the concrete. My vision blurs when the popping noises begin like a machine gun going off. I hear their screams but am in too much pain to get up. Instead, I roll over to look up. What I see causes my heart to break. My stomach coils in pain as I hold back the vomit that wants to escape.

Blood splatters across the walls as bodies sag to the ground. He has shot every single person… My body goes limp as tears spill from my eyes. How can someone be so fucked up? So uncaring? They were human too.

A hand reaches out, gripping my arm and pulling me to a standing position. I can’t respond to anything, can’t process the cruelty surrounding me. My mind is off in la-la-land, and my body isn’t responding. I feel as if I am outside of my body watching the carnage take place.

“Take her.” I hear his voice but can’t place it. I can’t figure out how I have gotten to this dark and dismal place.

“What do you want me to do with her?”

There is a moment of silence that makes the pounding in my head and heart stop.

“Put her in the dungeon,” he orders emotionlessly. I feel my body being lifted and carried. It means nothing to me. In the end, I know what my fate will be. It will be the same as these peoples.

Death.

Alzerro

Did she have a fucking death wish? My body is built up with aggression and anger. She will be lucky if I don’t kill her tonight. I rip my suit jacket off, throwing it against the wall. How dare she try and tell me what I can and can’t do!

You’re more than this, Figlio… my mother’s voice enters my mind. Fuck. I can’t handle this…

She still shouldn’t have defied me. She should have listened. Kept herself quiet. Now I’m forced to teach her a lesson.

Pulling my slacks and dress shirt off, I slip into a pair of jeans and head down to the dungeon. My steps are heavy with anger¸ madness even. I am not sure if I want to fuck her into submission or kill her.

I grip the key in my hand tightly, begging for the pain to release some of the anger I have within me.

Sliding the key into the door, I scrutinize her. The anger I felt moments ago disappears. It is still there, but it has eased. She is lying on the bench seat, her dress clinging to her.

I take slow and steady steps toward her. I’m still not sure if I will hurt her or not. I want to. I want to shake the hell out of her for making a fool of me in front of my men, in front of the people who owed me and my family money.

Her face is turned toward me, and it is then that I see the bruise on the side of her face. It is black and blue and against her creamy skin, a dark reminder of what I am capable of doing.

My stomach sinks as realization dawns on me. I did this to her! Suddenly, I want to laugh. I have killed women, countless ones, ones who were mothers, daughters, aunts, it didn’t matter. I ended their lives, but the mere thought of blemishing Bree’s skin in any way has me sinking to the ground on my knees.

This is fucked up, and I am fucked up for thinking such thoughts.

A cut mars her top lip, and I know if I look at other parts of her body, I will see more bruises.

Gripping my hair, I take a step back. I am feeling conflicted; I have never in my life felt conflicted. I always know what to do. There is never a doubt in my mind if someone deserved to die, if someone deserved pain.

A whimper leaves her lips, and I find myself kneeling down by her face before I can even stop myself. I cup her face in my hands. The blank look in her eyes and that bruise make something in me snap.

I wonder if she can be the exception to it all. She is paying a debt, though. I remind myself. I have never allowed anyone to get close to me. No one. Not since my mother. Losing her was the nail in my coffin; it closed the door to my heart.

But she has to pay for what she has done… It is weak of me to think this way, to want to keep her and do things with her that are not like myself. I hope she learned her lesson tonight. Forcing myself from her angelic face, I stand. She will have to pay.

Turning, I walk out, shut the door, and lock it. She will learn that no matter how much she tries to sway me from evil or try to tell me that I can’t do something, that I am damned and will be this way forever.

It has been four days since I have gone and checked on Bree. I force myself to stay busy with business, but it does me no good. My mind still wanders to her…

“She’s begging that we release her,” Mack explains, entering my office. I don’t look up from my computer.

“She was begging yesterday too.” For the past four days, she has begged and pleaded to be released. I am not sure if she thought she would get away with what she did, but this is teaching her otherwise.

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