Page 72 of Always Meant To Be

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Page 72 of Always Meant To Be

I nod. "And my little brother finding you fucking said crack whore in the ass with cocaine all over your nose and shirt was a figment of his imagination?"

Lewis stills, his fidgeting stops, and I smile.

Now he's backed into a corner. He tells me Leonardo's lying, then he's disrespecting my consigliere and my underboss, Antonio, who went through the feeds after we realized we were over four grand short this month.

Yet, if he tells me the truth, he knows I'll kill him, but this is where he's stupid, because he's dead either way.

I watch his eyes move around the nearly empty space before he tries to make a run for it.

I chuckle and stand, lifting my knife. I throw it, and he grunts, dropping to the floor as it digs into his calf—hours upon hours of being forced to throw them at a dartboard years ago paying off.

He looks my way. "R-Rome, please, I-I, I have a problem!"

I ignore his pathetic words he's hoping will soften me, and storm over to him. I grab his hair tightly and drag him back to the middle of the room, making him cry and beg for mercy as he thrashes, trying to get out of my strong grip.

Unfortunately for him, I have no sympathy to give, my veil is slowly slipping, the monster I’ve managed to tame coming to the surface.

It's been a week since I found my wife unconscious; a week since I found out her own sister tried to kill her and our baby again, causing her to kill Liliya in self-defense.

It's been a week since I’ve heard her voice, looked into her eyes, felt her heartbeat against my chest.

I lift my black dress shoes and slam my foot down, kicking Lewis in the face, causing his head to snap back.

He rolls and tries to crawl away from me, but I kick him in the ribs, making him flip over, grunting and gasping in pain.

I grin. It looks like I cracked his rib and maybe even punctured his lung.

Good.

"Please, R-Romeo, I-I'm family," he mutters.

I snort, pulling the knife out of his calf, making him scream as I state, "Youwerefamily when I encouraged my father to initiate you from the streets at only twelve years old." I bend, and grip his hair tightly, putting the knife to his throat as I rasp, "Youwerefamily when I saved you from the man you owed money to, and ensured you and your mother were set. And youwerefamily when I helped you rise from the bottom, but you fucked up, because no one steals from me and gets away with it."

With that, I slice his throat, and then throw him on the floor.

He chokes, his eyes wide as his hands go to his neck in a panic, trying to stop the bleeding, which is pitiful considering he knows how fast one dies this way.

I watch as his eyes cloud over, the life draining from them, but the anger inside me is still high. I can feel the monster wanting to come out and destroy everything.

He needs his heaven….

"Fratello…" Antonio rasps behind me, but I ignore him, staring at Lewis.

I took the fucker in, and how does he repay me? By trying to fuck me over, stealing from me.

This is why I trust no one except those closest to me….

Throwing the knife to the floor, I turn and walk to the sink, passing a concerned Antonio. I scrub my hands, watching the water turn red.

"That's the thirtieth guy you've killed this week," he reminds me, and I shrug.

"You saying none of them deserved it?" I question as I dry my hands.

He clears his throat. "Fratello, you killed a man because he scratched your car…."

I nod. "He was also a rapist. He wouldn't have been on my radar if he had paid attention to where he was riding his bike."

Antonio sighs, but I ignore it and walk out of the warehouse. The sky is a different color of orange and red, and dusk is settling in, reminding me of all the times I sat on the Hampton beach behind our holiday home with my wife leaning against my chest, watching the sunset.




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