In the periphery of my mind, I feel myself clenching around Angelo. He lets out a low curse, burying himself deep inside me as pure, sweet agony unleashes from his throat.
His cock pulses, filling me with his warmth as he draws out his release in small, jerking thrusts. It sets off more aftershocks in my body, and I ride the wave until all that’s left is a haze of bliss.
I’m breathless, strung-out, and barely able to form a coherent thought when I feel him shift. He’s still inside me, but he leans away as if he’s reaching for something. Then he speaks.
“She doesn’t even remember your name. But I can promise you this—she’ll be screaming mine for the rest of her life.”
His body jerks hard, and a sharp, wet crack pierces the air—like a watermelon being blown wide open. Something warm splatters across my face and chest, and I let out a choked whimper.
The gurgling that follows is so close, dread prickles my skin. I rip off the blindfold, my stomach revolting at what I see.
Less than two feet away from where Angelo just fucked me, Matteo is bound to a chair, gasping out his final breath. A horrific silence settles over us as one final twitch wrenches from his body, and he falls limp.
His face is still twisted in a grimace, hollow eyes staring right through me.
I’m frozen and numb, my mind refusing to believe it. But when I look up and see the chilling indifference in Angelo’s gaze, I know it’s real. He pulls out of me and reaches for a napkin on the table. Wiping my virgin blood off his dick, he stares at it fora long moment. Then, as if to prove his final point, he tosses it onto Matteo’s body.
“You seem to have forgotten what forever means.” His eyes drift to the blade jutting out of Matteo’s heart. “Now you know.”
My attention lingers on the silver dagger gleaming under the moonlight. The meaning isn’t lost on me. I recognize the blade, and more importantly, the custom engraving on the hilt.Per Sempre.That’s the promise I made to Angelo when I gifted him this piece shortly after our engagement.
It meant forever.
That word ricochets through me, echoing through the chambers of my mind until the weight of it crushes me. I promised Angelo my forever, and now those words are lodged inside Matteo’s chest.
He’s dead…because of me.
“You promised you wouldn’t hurt him,” I choke out.
“And you promised loyalty.” His gaze drops to the cum trailing down my thighs. “Leave it inside you. I’ll give you some time to change, then we’ll discuss how this is going to work.”
The detachment in his voice makes me feel raw and too exposed. Like a switch, he’s turned off every emotion I thought I felt from him this past hour. In the span of a single moment, it all went up in smoke. And with one last fleeting glance, he leaves me standing there, broken and alone.
19
ABELLA
Ican’t seem to drag my eyes away from Matteo’s lifeless body. A river of blood carves a path from the gaping wound in his chest, soaking his shirt and the ground beneath him. The steady drip splashing against the stone will haunt me forever.
He was beaten badly. So much so that if I hadn’t known him my whole life, I might not recognize him at all. His eyes are swollen and bruised, his nose bent and crusted with blood. A fabric gag bulges from his mouth from behind the duct tape that’s tightly woven around his head. One of his shoulders looks as if it’s been dislocated.
He was brutalized because of me.
A gut-wrenching sob catches in my throat, and I cover my mouth, horrified by this turn of events. This was entirely preventable had I not agreed to his arrangement in the first place. He was trying to protect me, and because I let him, he’s dead.
My eyes burn, and everything hurts. But I swipe the tears away just as fast as they come.
Lock them down, put them away.
Emotions are a weakness, and I don’t deserve to feel sorry for myself right now.
Matteo is dead.
I get dressed and search the table for something to clean myself with. There’s no water, so I settle on champagne. My fingers tremble as I pop the cork, and I nearly choke on the fizz when I bring the bottle to my lips. I gulp down enough to numb myself before I splash the rest on my face.
It’s not the best idea. Champagne is sticky, and it doesn’t do much to wash away the blood staining my skin. But then again, I’m not sure anything can.
How could Angelo do this? How could he kill his own brother?
