His gun stays steady, perfectly still.But every inch of Matteo’s body is locked and coiled like a soldier one heartbeat away from firing.
And then he glances at me.It’s permission.It’s power.It’s mine.
That look says it all.This is your war, Em.Say the word, and I’ll end it.One bullet.One breath.One fuck-you goodbye.
I move forward slowly, my boots striking the floorboards with a dull thud.Steady and final, like they’re marking the beat to his unraveling.
With every inch I close between us, I watch it hit him.Then I see that flicker of recognition.That slow, creeping horror.
His body stiffens.
The cigar slips from his fingers, hitting the wood with a soft hiss as the ember dies, just like the fire he thought he still had left.
He stares at me as if he’s seen a ghost.As if I clawed my way out of the grave he dug with his own hands.As if I’ve come back for blood.
And maybe I fucking have.
I tilt my head, just slightly.Let my lips curl, not into a smile, but something colder.Crueler.A quiet little fuck-you dressed as charm.
“What’s the matter?”I say, voice sharp.“Didn’t expect me to still be breathing, Father?”
He doesn’t speak.
Doesn’t even blink.
So I step closer, the words burning in my chest, aching to get out.
“I mean, you sold me out for what?Freedom that you’ll never fucking get.Or did you really think that once he killed me, you were off the hook?”
His throat bobs as he swallows.Finally, he finds his voice, but it’s weak, shaky.“Emery…”
I cut him off with a scoff.
“No,” I snap, bitterness slicing through every word.“You don’t get to say my name that way—don’t get to act like it still fucking means something.You lost that right the second you gave me up to save your own miserable life.”
Matteo shifts, his body still as stone.He’s watching him, eyes cold, gun still raised.His finger rests on the trigger, but he doesn’t move.
My father’s voice is low, cracking, straining at the seams.“You don’t understand what it was.”
“I understand perfectly,” I spit, cutting through his bullshit.“You had a choice.You chose you.You let them take me.”
I stare down at the man who used to mean something.The man who once looked me in the eye and preached loyalty as if it were gospel.As if it were law.And then shattered it, shattered me the second it cost him more than comfort.
“Tell me why,” I bite out, my voice shaking.Not from fear, not from grief, but from the white-hot rage clawing up my throat.“Tell me why your own fucking daughter became nothing more than collateral damage.”
His eyes flinch away from mine.Coward.Like he can’t stand the reflection of what he did staring back at him.
“Because it was you or me, Emery,” he rasps, voice brittle and pathetic.“Because your name bought me another day.”
I step closer. “Why?Was I just a name you could carve off your family tree to save your own fucking skin?”
He swallows hard, face paling beneath the weight of it all.The guilt, the fear, the truth he can’t outrun.But he doesn’t answer.He doesn’t even try.
So Matteo steps in, fast and brutal.He shoves the barrel harder against his skull, forcing his head forward with a crack of bone-on-metal.
“Fucking answer her,” he growls, voice laced with violence. “Or I swear to God, I’ll make you choke on the truth myself.”
His finger twitches on the trigger.It’s not a bluff.It’s not a threat, it’s a promise.
