Running had aged him, even though the fire in his eyes still burned.
The marks on his body, the scars that were made by my father, each one traced with a knife that represented the scars on my wife’s body. Each bruise and sore. Those were all physical. They would heal.
What he tried to steal from my wife went much deeper—her spirit.
Therefore, I was going to reach in and steal his heart.
This moment wasn’t about me, though, but about my son. He watched the man like he was watching a monster in a nightmare, but he showed no fear. His eyes were hard, his lips set, and his posture told me he was ready to strike but was holding back.
He knew already that pleasure didn’t come in haste, but in delayed gratification.
Matteo sized him up and then met his eyes. “You have no power,” he said to him in Italian. “This is the reason why you tried to break something smaller than you. You tried to steal it, because it was something you never had and never will. Not even in death.”
Instead of lashing out, wanting to beat him with his fists, or wound him beyond repair physically (even though I knew he had it in him to do this, too), Matteo essentially took the power back and left the rat with something he knew he would never conquer.
Us.
I wasn’t expecting Matteo to say anything—and even if I had, it certainly wasn’t that. But the words sounded like they came from his mamma’s heart, and I couldn’t have been prouder.
My father and Rocco came in a second later and took Matteo out. I wasn’t sure how busy they were going to keep him, because his mind seemed to be running, but for the time I had with theratto, it was all I’d know. All I’d taste. All I’d feel.
When I’d done this out on that mountain in Italy, I was crazed, not even knowing who I was. I existed only to kill the threat. The man who dared to take my wife from me.
This time, I was crazed too, but saner of mind. I wanted to remember every detail of this encounter for as long as I lived.
Once the villa was empty, I motioned him up. He looked me straight in the eyes as he stood, limping. No doubt from a wound one of the men gave him.
Then I led him out of the villa with a nod, and we took a ride to a more secluded part of the property, where the small building was mostly made of cement. I watched as he struggled to walk, to get where he was going.
After we were inside, I set a replica of the coffin with the rose he’d sent to my wife next to him.
Was it necessary?
There was no “yes” stronger in this world.
“You going to fight me, salaud?”I said.
“If I do?”
I grinned but said nothing else.
I’d already made a deal for this, and the quicker the demon was gone, the quicker my wife would return to me.
“My word is as good as my blood, ah? I vowed to kill you. That vow will be complete today. For the offense against my heart, my blood, my life, my wife.” I pulled out a knife. “You end here.”
“I’m too far inside of your wi—”
He screamed out in agony as the knife impaled his chest, but not directly in his heart. It moved down until I completely opened him up, stealing the vital thing he’d come close to stealing from me over the years.
My heart, except it was his in my hand.
28
Brando
Iwas taking some time to get my head on straight. The bloodlust in me was still strong, and when I faced my wife, I wanted to be in a different state of mind.
We had so much to discuss. So much to work out.
