Rocco steps closer to her.His eyes flicker over her like she’s something to claim, something to break.He grabs her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat.His fingers dig in, and he yanks her head back further, just enough to make her feel every inch of his dominance.
"Maybe I should fuck it out of you instead," he mutters, voice dripping with cruel amusement, the words slithering through the air like venom."See how fast I can break you."
Emery’s gaze doesn't waver.She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t cower.Her eyes burn with a fierce, unbroken defiance.The fire that’s always been there doesn’t die, it just flares even brighter.
She chuckles.It’s low and bitter, her lips curling into a smirk.
“Yeah, sure.Do you think your tiny cock’s gonna make me talk?Please,” she retorts.
Rocco’s eyes burn with rage, and I can see it.The insult lands.Hard.The muscle in his neck twitches, and his fist curls.I watch him, waiting, because I know exactly what’s coming.
She’s pushing all his buttons, with that mouth that’s still running.But fuck, she has no idea of who or what she’s playing with.
Rocco jerks his arm back, fist ready to smash into her.
The rage burns hotter than anything I’ve ever felt, black and searing, tearing through every part of me.I can feel it crawling under my skin, dragging me further down into the abyss.It's not just anger anymore; it’s an urge to destroy.
My hand moves without thinking, reaching into my jacket, fingers curling around the cold metal of the gun.The weight of it steadies me.Feels familiar.Feels like it belongs.
I don't think.I don’t hesitate.I step forward, with no words, just cold, brutal action.
The gun clicks into place.I line it up with the back of Rocco’s head.
One shot.One clean fucking shot.
I pull the trigger.
Chapter Four
Emery
Thedeafeningcrackofthe gunshot rips through the air.A brutal explosion that shatters the silence.It echoes through my chest and causes every muscle to seize up, my heart pounding against my ribs like it’s trying to claw its way out.
The shock hits first, and for a moment, I can’t breathe.I’m drowning in it.
The weight of the noise.
The impact that settles into my bones.
It vibrates in my skull, a fucking war drum pounding through every nerve.But what hits next isn’t just the deafening noise.
It’s the blood.
The warm, slick spray that coats my face.Each drop is a brutal reminder that mercy doesn’t exist here anymore.It’s a cruel fucking truth.
The liquid coats my skin, crawling over my face, slick and heavy, like it’s been carved into me.The taste floods my senses, metallic, suffocating.Choking me from the inside out.
I don’t flinch.
I can’t.I’m trapped, bound to this goddamn chair, my body screaming for escape, but every breath locks tighter around my ribs, a prison I’ll never crawl free from.
Slowly, my eyes flutter open.Lashes stuck together with blood.The world blurs for a moment.Everything smeared in red and shock, and then… I see him.
Matteo.
He stands still, the weight of the world carving him into stone.His arm is outstretched, gun in hand, an extension of his body, of who he’s become.The only thing that defines him now.
His expression is unreadable, cold as ice.Rocco’s body lies crumpled at our feet, a broken shell of what he once was.The blood pools around him, dark and relentless, flowing like rivers of death, staining everything it touches, soaking into the very floor beneath us.
