"You don't seem to understand the situation, so allow me to educate you," Cosimo said softly. Carlo tried to talk, but magic poured out of Cosimo, sealing Carlo's lips shut. His eyes went wide, and he tried to claw at his bleeding, sealed lips in panic.
"Hush now, and listen carefully," Cosimo continued. "You ever talk to Marcella again, I will take away your ability to speak forever."
His magic slithered over Carlo's face, sealing his eyes. He could taste Carlo's fear in the air now, and he reveled in it.
"You look at her again, and I'll take your sight. And then your ears," he continued. "And then finally your nose."
Cosimo sealed his ears and nose just to make his point. He waited until Carlo was turning purple before he removed his magic from everywhere except Carlo's mouth. The other man was now white with fear.
"Now, let me tell you how things are going to go. You will go back to your mother and tell her that you are only alive right now because Marcella asked me not to kill you. You will convince her by any means necessary that giving me the information about my sister is in everyone's best interests. If she leaves me in peace, I will be gone from the city without any more unpleasantness. Nod if you understand me," Cosimo said.
Carlo nodded, his eyes running.
"Good. I see I'm finally getting through to you. Now, if your mother decides she wants to push her luck and not give me the few days I need to get my sister, if she tries to hold out and send herstregheto fight me about it, I want you to know that my family and I will tear this city apart. We will paint the streets red with their blood, and none of us will shed a single tear over it. Do not make the mistake of thinking we are like you. We are dragons, and we act accordingly when provoked. I see you are nodding again. Excellent."
Cosimo's dagger dropped to Carlo's crotch, the flat of the blade pressing up between his legs so he knew exactly where it was. Carlo tried to scream, but nothing came out but muffled grunts.
"I wouldn't wriggle about too much if I were you," Cosimo said, his fangs lengthening. "I promised Marcella I wouldn't kill you, but if I knew what you were really like, I never would have agreed to that. Just so we are very clear, if you ever try and contact her again in any way, I will find you and I will cut this pathetic excuse of a cock off."
In a quick move, Cosimo's blade sliced both sides of Carlo's inner thighs. It shredded through his jeans like paper, leavingtwo lines in his flesh, just deep enough to scar. Carlo was screaming and screaming, his mind close to breaking in terror.
"Those are a gift so every time you look down at your puny manhood, you remember this warning and know that I mean it."
Cosimo grabbed Carlo's left hand, where he still wore a wedding ring. "Marcella Sforza is not, and will never again, be your fucking wife." His blade cut through Carlo's finger, severing it in one clean swipe.
Carlo screamed before his eyes rolled back in his head, and he fainted. Cosimo let him slump to the wet stone.
"You know, I do believe he pissed himself," Valentine said, moving beside him and standing over Carlo's body. Without a flicker of emotion, Valentine kicked him in the face. "That is from the rest of us."
Cosimo leaned down, wiped his dagger clean on Carlo's pants before picking up the finger, the wedding ring still on it, and put it in his jacket pocket.
"What do you want me to do with him?" Valentine asked.
"Take him to the restaurant and dump him on Renata's doorstep. If anystreghetries to attack you, maim them, but don't kill them," Cosimo replied.
Valentine looked him over. "I suggest you go and get cleaned up before checking on Marcella. She turned the girls' company away, and she needs you."
"I don't want to frighten her, and I am not in control," Cosimo admitted.
"She's not frightened of you. She needs to see that you are okay before she will sleep. You need to see her so you can calm the fuck down." Valentine looked back down at the unconscious man. "I'll deal with this piece of shit."
Cosimo thanked him before slipping back into the hotel through the fire escape. He was dripping bloody water withevery step, but some of the rage had gone out of him now that he had dealt with Carlo.
Cosimo was reaching for his door when Marcella's opened on the opposite side of the hall. Cosimo closed his eyes and took a deep breath before turning.
"What the fuck did you do?" Marcella demanded. She was wrapped in a black satin robe trimmed with soft lace, her dark hair a loose riot of curls.
Gods, she always looked so fucking perfect. He could smell her hot, flushed skin and the alluring rose perfume she always wore.
Marcella's eyes dropped to his hand, and her anger turned to worry. "Oh god, Cosimo, you are bleeding!"
"Most of it is not my blood," he managed to say. All the rage he had been feeling turned to lust as she stepped forward and took his busted hand. "Whose blood is it?"
"Carlo's. I found him lurking beneath your window," Cosimo admitted and quickly added, "Don't worry. I didn't kill him."
Marcella studied his face, as if searching for the lie. Finally, she tugged gently at his hand.
"Come with me. This needs to be cleaned," she insisted.
