AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"If that’s what you want. I won’t rob you of that right, but are you sure?" I ask him, searching for any sign that I should say no.
"I need to be the one to send this miserable fuck to hell," Marco confirms. He steps away from me and looks down at one of Dracos' men. "Daniel, do you want to live or die?"
The guard looks panicky. "L-live."
"You know the drill then," Marco murmurs coldly. "Go get the family crest. Lodi, you follow him while he gets it." Lodi nods.
"Yes sir, thank you, sir. I'll get it now," Daniel sobs, standing up and bowing repeatedly to Marcos.
I scratch the side of my face, fingertips pushing through my beard, as I wonder exactly where this is going. Marco walks over to his father. "How does it feel, old man, to see everything you tried to achieve disappear before your eyes?"
"You are a fucking traitor," Dracos growls. "How could you kill your own brother?"
Marco lets out a cold laugh. "You mean like you ordered them to do to me?"
Dracos spits at Marco. "You aren't worthy of the Stratakis name. You never were."
"I think that is the biggest compliment you've ever given me. Don't worry. I petitioned the courts and had my last name legally changed to my mother's ages ago. I want no part of you. I never have."
Marco walks over to an entrance table, grabs the remote, and turns on the fireplace. The flames leap up with wicked urgency. That's not just a regular fireplace. I know right away that he uses this to heat branding irons. My wife's side has the scar to prove it.
"Fuck," I hiss.
Marco glances at me. "You don't have to watch."
"This is something I want to see. The bastard needs to pay for what he did to my wife." I'm not lying. I want to see this happen.
Lodi and the guard return. The latter is carrying two branding irons. One is smaller. There’s no doubt it is what was used on Melina. The other is huge. It's the kind of brand you'd use on a bull’s backside, but even bigger than that. I think this was specifically made for torture. That idea has some merit, but it's not something I would do now. Not after seeing the results marring my wife's skin.
Marco takes the irons and props them on the black metal stands in front of the fireplace. It allows the brand to lean into the fire and heat. The temperature is set so high that it takes mere seconds before they begin to glow a shiny orange.
"Hey, Boss," Marco says, looking over at me after putting the tools in the fire. "What do I do with the two remaining guards? And the other one?"
I look at the weaklings on their knees without honor. "I want them dead."
Before I can finish saying it, Marco pulls his weapon, killing the two instantly, their bodies hitting the floor with heavy thuds.
Daniel starts shaking even harder. "Wait! Wait, you said I could live! I got you the tools, just like you asked," he cries.
Marco puts his gun behind his back, slipping it into his belt. Then, he yanks on his sleeves one at a time and unbuttons them at each of his wrists. Next, he begins undoing the buttons that run up the front. When he’s finished, he looks at the guard.
"That you did, Daniel. You helped just like when my father branded me. Now, I can see Marco trembling, but it’s not of fear. No, this is a barely controlled anger, and I find a whole new level of respect for Marco. I saw promise in him, butthis? This is something else.
Marco yanks off his shirt, throwing it on the ground. His attitude has been barely contained until this point. Now he's like a tiger being unleashed, his anger waffling from him and lying heavy in the air. I'm watching closely to see if he snaps. That can be a liability in a position of power.
He grabs his gun, putting the barrel between Daniel's eyes. "Do you remember that, you miserable son of a bitch? Because I do. I remember it every fucking night. You laughed with my father and kicked me in the balls as I writhed in pain. Did it make you feel like a man to do that? Did it make you feel like a man to assist my father in taking a whip to beat and then brand an eight-year-old child? One who had the gall to spill a fucking glass of orange juice on a tiled floor."
I wince as he recounts his nightmare of a life. Fuck, what kind of life did they all have if that's just one moment? I thought I had an idea, but I honestly had no clue.
Marco jumps back, shaking his head, and I don't understand until I get a look at the man kneeling in front of Marco. He's pissed himself.
"God, you're a waste of breath. Look at the bright side, Daniel. Until you did that, I planned on kicking you in the balls just like you did me. You saved yourself some pain by reminding me how pathetic you are."
Marco turns to face the man completely. That gives me a good look at his back. It’s covered with rigid scars that I have no doubt are from the whip that he spoke of. There’s also a large branding on his back. It's almost spread the entire width of his shoulders and keeps going until it ends somewhere around the center of his spine.
It resembles a grapevine with large leaves and a braided rope circle around it. There's a large letter S in the center. It's pale and worn in some areas and brown in others, showing that the mark is old and has stretched in weird ways as that child grew into a man. I can only imagine how scared he would've been. Fuck, Melina must have been terrified.
“Did this asshole hand Dracos the iron used to hurt my wife?" I ask through gritted teeth.
