AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My heart clenches and my voice softens. “Who’s blood is it?”
He laughs then. A cruel, awful laugh.
“On that bullet? Mine.”
I’m taken aback but I do my best to maintain composure. “I thought you said your dad gave that to you? Why did your father have a bullet necklace with your blood on it?”
His countenance softens, and a glint of vulnerability pierces through his tough exterior. “When I was fifteen, I accompanied my father on a business venture. It was meant to be a routine deal, but those other guys got too greedy. The moment we set foot on their turf, all hell broke loose. John Luciano himself shot me, right in the chest.”
“Is that the reason your family unleashed a hail of bullets within the sanctum of his private mansion? I remember hearing all about that in the news and thought it was just awful.”
“His family, and every last blood relation he had. He had a chance to snuff out my old man and me, and we weren’t about to let that slip away without a fight. We went at them with a vengeance, and ever since, our families have been locked in a bitter feud. Well, what’s left of them anyway.” The way he says it is cold and ruthless.
“Doesn’t it eat away at your conscience, taking lives like that?”
He looks me in my eyes and I can see he feels misunderstood.
“Tori, it’s not as simple as just taking lives. We don’t do it casually. There’s always a reason behind it. Our family, we cherish human life, but above all, we value loyalty. That’s why my old man gave me that necklace when I turned eighteen. He kept it as a reminder, not to let my guard down. He blamed himself for taking me on that trip when I nearly met my end, but that necklace served as a constant reminder for him. It reminded him to always be the most feared presence in any room, in any situation. So that anyone who even thought about crossing the D’Angelo’s would think twice, because we don’t play games. If you want a fight, be prepared to wage war.”
“If you take a closer look, you’ll find another bullet in there, but of course, the blood’s been removed.”
I consider going to take another look but somehow I know it would make matters worse considering I wasn’t supposed to see the first one.
“What’s the story behind the second bullet?” I ask, my curiosity warring with my apprehension.
“It’s from my first kill. John Luciano,” he reveals.
I’m shocked by his confession. “But the news reported he fled the country.”
Carlo chuckles. “I remember that. But no, my dad actually kept him hidden until I’d recovered. He told me that if I wasn’t willing to exact vengeance on the man who had already taken a shot at me, then I might as well be dead. He handed me a gun, and I took my first shot. Right in his fucking head.”
My eyes widen in surprise. I almost can’t believe what I just heard. I stare at Carlo, having no idea what the fuck to say to him. He killed someone when he was only fifteen years old? He was a child. Putting a gun into a child’s hand is barbaric.
Carlo must see the thought running through my head because he clenches his jaw before shifting me to the side and walking out of the room. I’m disoriented and it takes me a minute or two before I hurry after him.
He’s grabbing his car keys in the living room.
“Carlo!” I yell. “It’s one a.m., where would you go?”
He doesn’t reply. Again, I’m forced to stop him physically by placing my body between him and the door.
“I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have looked. It was an invasion of privacy. It’s all my fault. Please, please, please, don’t leave,” I beg.
He looks down at me and his expression flickers for a second before it hardens again.
“I just need to get away for a while. I’ll come back in the morning.”
“No,” I say firmly. “You’re not leaving.”
“Tori.”
He hasn’t raised his voice once. His tone is controlled—angry as hell, but controlled.
“I feel awful, okay? I regret looking. Hell, I regret telling you that I looked, but I saw it and I just wanted to know the story behind it. I want to get to know you Carlo. I know what you do and I know there are things I’ll never understand but I can’t help the way I feel about you. I just wanted so badly to somehow break into that tough exterior so you can let me in.”
And now I know and it’s honestly morbid. I can’t even begin to fathom why his father would do something like that. I never really knew the man, but my parents talk about him like he was a saint. Maybe he was a good person, but I don’t know about willingly giving your child a weapon to kill.
“Don’t look at me like that!” he snaps.
