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I have only one question remaining unanswered:who’s leaking information to my enemies?If Tomas knows, he’s not telling. But I don’t think he knows. He’s squealed about everything else. Why wouldn’t he just tell me?
I’m going to gut my cousin, like I promised him at the Camelia Ball. But I have to work fast, because I want him fully conscious when I dip him in the acid bath. Of course, it’s not really acid. That’s for gangster movies.
What I have for him is a vat of corrosive chemicals that will burn his body from the inside out, dissolve everything, including his teeth, within a matter of days. But he’ll be at the bottom of the Atlantic before that happens.
Cristiano wheels the sealed vat closer to Tomas before I send him away. “I’m doing this alone.”
“Antonio,” he pleads, quietly. “Something could go wrong.”
“Nothing will go wrong.” I’ve planned carefully, and I can taste my revenge. Cristiano opens his mouth to say something. He’s clearly not done trying to persuade me to let him stay, but I won’t allow it. “Get out.”
“Lucas,” I call, facing one of the cameras, and signal for him to cut the feed.
Together, we’ve done some things that will never be forgiven. But their souls won’t be tarnished with this, and their nightmares won’t be tainted by the screams that I’m about to elicit from this pig.
I hold the blade to his stomach.
“You can kill me,” he whimpers, his voice weak and hoarse, “but you have no idea what’s waiting for you.”
I slice into his abdomen, and the warm blood squirts everywhere, droplets raining on my skin like salvation.
While he cries, I go to the wall, and engage the lever to raise his body higher off the ground. When I’m satisfied, I roll the vat under him, and carefully slide off the protective cover.
There is no regret, no sense of guilt as I lower his body, inch by inch, into the chemical bath.
While he struggles and screams, I remember my aunt, who I adored. I remember Maria Rosa with her big heart that embraced the poorest of souls. I remember my mother’s pain, and Rafael’s. But mostly I remember the little girl with a sparkle in her eyes. I think about how he raped her, then forced her to watch while they slit her mother’s throat. I think of her curled around her dead mother for hours in the meadow. And I think about the pregnant twelve-year-old banished to a convent, hidden away, like she’d done something wrong.
Every memory feeds my vengeance, and every scream frees my soul.
The suffering he caused will linger long after he’s erased from existence, but his days of inflicting harm are over.
When the bubbling ceases, and he’s totally submerged, I secure the top and test the padlock before I go.
On my way out, I pause in the doorway and peer over my shoulder. “When you get to hell, say hello to my father.”
I flip off the light switch and walk away, knowing that while the danger hasn’t been entirely eliminated, Daniela—and Valentina—are safer now.
66
ANTONIO
Ishower before leaving the villa and put on fresh clothes. But when I get to the apartment, I take another look for any spattered blood I might have missed. Slaughtering a pig is messy business, and I don’t want to bring any of it with me into the home I share with her.
After drawing a breath, I rap quietly on the door to get Alvarez’s attention.I don’t want to be shot now.“Antonio,” I say from outside the door.
The lock snicks, and the door opens. “Senhor,” Alvarez says, eyeing my wet hair. “Trouble?”
I glare at him, because he’s overstepped. He doesn’t have the right to question me—he’s not that high on the food chain. Right now, he’s damn lucky I’m bone-tired.
“You’re done for tonight. I won’t need you here in the morning. Call Cristiano. He’ll have something to keep you busy.”
“Good night,” he says, head down. He knows he fucked up.
I text Alma and tell her to stay home. I want tomorrow, at least some of it, with my wife. I’ll need to deal with oligarchs and arrange for a shipment to be dropped at sea. But first, I want to spend long hours worshipping myPrincesa.
I check the door and shed my clothes on the way to the bedroom, where I find my wife fast asleep.
A good man would let her sleep. A decent man would wake her with tender kisses. But I am neither good nor decent. I am her dark prince, and the devil inside me is wide awake, craven, no longer lusting for revenge, but lusting for the kind of satiety only she can provide.
