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“I’ll take her upstairs and make sure that she gets her clothes back,” my grandfather says.
I glance towards Isabella. She nods, signaling that she’s fine with that.
“I’ll come back down here and help you afterwards,” she promises as a savage grin curls her lips.
The smile on my own mouth is equally vicious. “I look forward to it.”
After giving both her and Federico a nod, I turn around and stalk towards Derek’s room. Behind me, I swear I can hear my grandfather speak softly under his breath.
“I knew you would make a great king.”
With that savage smile still on my lips, I stride into the smaller room on the other side of the one-way glass and take up position in front of Derek.
He pales visibly when he takes in the expression on my face.
There will be no mercy here.
This man murdered my mom, ruined my life, and tortured my girl.
And he will pay for that with every excruciating slice of my blade. I pick up a knife. A knife meant to be used for skinning animals.
Vengeance, long and bloody and brutal vengeance, burns in my eyes as I raise it.
A dark stain spreads across the front of Derek’s underwear.
I grin down at him.
And then I get to work.
43
ISABELLA
My mind is still spinning as Mr. Morelli leads me out of the basement and through the elegant mansion above. So much happened in the last few minutes that I don’t even know how to process it all.
Rico came for me.
And he put a gun to his grandfather’s head. Put a gun to the head of the reigning monarch of the Morelli mafia family. For me.
Because he…
Because he loves me.
The thought makes my head swim with a sudden surge of vertigo.
Rico Morelli loves me.
The man I was sent to kill six years ago loves me, and he is willing to go against his own family for my sake.
Warmth, fizzy sparkling warmth, spreads through my chest and envelops my soul. Never in my life have I ever been put first. No one has ever chosen me above everything else. But now I know, without a doubt, that Rico will always have my back. Just like I will always have his.
“Your clothes are in there,” Federico says, and nods towards the door to our right.
Since I’m not sure what to say, I just nod back and reach for the handle.
“Before you go back down, come and see me, would you?”
It’s phrased as a request, but I know that it’s not. It’s an order.
