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“Hey asshole you need to stay awake. This is just getting interesting.”
I frown when he doesn’t come around. I grab a bottle of water from the table and pour it over his face, then slap him harder. He lets out a whimper.
“Just to show I can be a nice guy,” I mutter as Sebastian and Gio laugh in the background. “I’m going to cut off your arm after you die. I have to confess, Zervas, I’m mostly doing this because I figure if I cut out your heart first it might be less messy. But don’t worry I broke all the bones in your hand first. That will make the cutting easier. So, hey, if you were alive when I did it, you wouldn’t have as much pain. You’re welcome by the way, motherfucker,” I growl slapping him across the face again. I pick up the knife and stabs him somewhere above where the heart should be. I’ve never been to medical school, but I figure this can’t be hard. I begin cutting downward, sawing my way through his body. “Fuck, I’m going to need a new knife. This is harder than I thought.”
Sebastian brings me a new one and I start work on Zervas again.
In the end, it takes four knives and the bastard’s heart is kind of cut up but with my brother’s help we get it out. I take an axe and use it to cut off the hand. Sebastian grabs the ring we need and after I chop off the middle finger, I thrust the ring down on it. I push that into the heart and look down at our gruesome handiwork. Elias puts the heart in a cooler and I sigh.
“We done?” Gio asks.
I nod. “Make sure the package goes through the cleaners and it’s safe, then give it to the handlers to deliver,” I growl. “I’m going to use the shower house down here and then go make love to my woman.”
“It’s time like this, I’m thinking we should think about having candy around like EZ’s club.”
“No way. What you do in your own homes is your business, but I don’t want to see it. I don’t want my wife to see it, or the children we have,” I mutter.
They laugh and slap me on the back I grumble under my breath and make my way to the showers. I’m ready to put this behind me and look to my future.
My future with Helena.
Chapter 47
Marco
When Helena was sixteen, I was resigned to getting married. I wanted a normal life, so I was looking forward to it, even if I didn’t know my wife. I knew I would respect her, and we could have a good life—if I managed to contain my father. Inside, however, even I didn’t think I would be successful at that. Buried inside of me, I assumed I’d fail and die at the hands of him or my brothers one day. My main goal was just to stay alive long enough to make sure my sister was safe.
Because of that belief, I made every mistake I could make—including breaking Helena’s heart and not taking her in my arms that day in the plane when my brother tried to not only kidnap her but end her life.
I had dreams, I just had no hope.
Now, as I stand on the beach, Gio and Sebastian at my side and Elias walking my beautiful bride to me, I can barely breathe. Helena is breathtaking. She’s wearing a simple ivory dress that hugs her body. Her hair is down and blowing in the wind with small twisty curls on the ends. She’s barefoot and honestly, she’s perfection personified.
I don’t deserve her. I know it. Yet, somehow, despite everything I’ve done and the man I am, she loves me. She’s smiling at me now, her eyes glowing with unshed tears. Tears of happiness. I still don’t think love describes what she means to me, but every single time I tell her, she smiles with so much pleasure that I don’t miss an opportunity to tell her at this point. I say it as often as I can.
When she finally makes it to me, I lean in and kiss her forehead. “You look beautiful, Princess.”
“You look just as I imagined you would all those years ago, honey.”
“Ena…”
“Back when I was just a child falling in love for the first and last time in my life.”
“In all my life, I never thought I was a man who would receive miracles. Somehow, against all odds, fate gave me you. You’re everything to me Ena. You’re everything.”
“Stop it, Marco. You’re going to make me cry. You need to let the priest marry us so we can start our lives together—without my makeup being ruined.”
“You’re barely wearing makeup.”
“That’s not the point,” she whispers.
