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She turns her head to look at me. “I’m okay. Great, actually.” She laughs a little. “Finally telling him off felt amazing.”
“Stay down and close your eyes.” I kiss her cheek, then rise, my gun already in my hand.
Antonio has already wrestled the gun away from Constantine Larone, and Gilly has a gun pointed at Len.
The other families have all fled, screeching tires echoing through the warehouse. All except Nick and Marco DaVinci. They sit in their same spots, both of them simply watching.
“I demand that Bianca be returned to–”
I fire, and Constantine’s head jerks backwards, his brains painted over the wall behind him as his body hits the floor.
“Fuck.” Antonio swipes some of the gray matter from his suit coat.
Then I turn to Len.
He shakes his head. “You can’t.” Turning to the DaVincis, he says, “You can’t let him touch me. This is a meeting. There are rules, and–”
“From what I saw, you and Constantine broke the rules, conspired to take Bianca by force if necessary–and then Constantine lost the plot and tried to off his own daughter.” Nick DaVinci tsks. “Not a good look.” He stands and buttons his suit coat. Marco does, too, both of them walking to the door.
“Good seeing you again, Antonio.” Nick shakes his hand, and with that, he and Marco walk away, giving their silent blessing to whatever else happens in this room.
“Nick, wait!” Len screams. “Wait!”
I grab his head and slam it onto the table. Blood spurts from where I broke his nose. Then I grab one of my knives and use it to stab through his hand and pin it to the wooden surface. I do the same to his other hand with another blade.
His screams are a sweet melody as I go to work.
“You thought you could take my girl?”
Slice.
“You thought you could touch her?”
Stab.
“You thought you could even breathe the same air as her?”
Break.
I go for a long time, long enough for his screams to turn to whimpers, long enough for his life to hover on the edge of oblivion, long enough for Gilly to start looking green, and long enough to finally come out of my rage-filled haze. I take a breath and back away, admiring the grisly work I’ve done. Len only has three breaths left in him. Maybe four if he fights for it.
When I turn and see Bianca, my anger recedes, and fear takes its place.
She’s been watching. She’s been here the whole time while I’ve been lost to my vengeance and bloodlust.
But that’s the thing about Bianca.
She’s. Still. Here.
She rises from her place at the table and comes over to me, her fingers straying to my forehead. “Doesn’t this hurt?”
“No.” My voice is guttural, fucking beastly. I’m the Butcher. A nightmare to end all nightmares.
But when she gets on her tiptoes and kisses me, I become nothing more than a man in love. One who would do anything for the woman who stole his heart and cradles his bruised soul, even when it’s covered in blood.
Len breathes his last, and I claim my bride with a kiss of blood and promise. I will always protect her. As Fernando and as the Butcher. Both of them exist only for her.
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