Showtime.
Chapter Twenty
Achilles
“A disappointment.”My father raised his walking cane, using it to smash my kneecap. I pressed my lips together, nostrils flaring, refusing to as much as groan. I was held by Fabio on one side and Nico on the other while Don Vello beat the shit out of me. It’d been twenty minutes, and so far, for a half-dead man, he was doing a pretty decent job.
“Giuda!” His cane smacked my abs next. My whole face was swollen, bleeding, and cut, and I still had to figure out how to stitch my own goddamn back when this was all over. “Traditore.” My father spat phlegm in my face. “I should put a bullet in your head and get it over with. Sacrificing an empire for afica. You pathetic piece of shit.”
“Do it,” I snarled, blood trickling from the side of my mouth. My head lolled bonelessly. “Fuck knows I would.”
Growing up, my father scarcely hit us. We were no strangers to his fist, but we needed to royally screw up to earn it. It had been a decade and a half since I’d last felt his wrath.
He was a surlystronzo, one without an ounce of compassion, and the only reason he spared our baby sister, Lila, from his fists was because he knew we’d kill him if he ever touched her.
“If you knew it was wrong, why’d you do it?” he roared in my face. Or tried to, anyway. He was frail and weakening more every day.
Though it was impossible to justify my actions, I did put some thought into it on my drive to our Long Island mansion.But, Daddy, I wanted this pussy since I was a teenagerseemed like a nonstarter, so I went for a half-truth. Well, a quarter-truth.
Really, it was less than one-eighth true. It wasn’t a complete lie, though.
“You negotiated a shit deal. One I’d have to agree to abide by once you kicked the bucket,” I drawled in boredom. “Stefano doesn’t deserve his stolen spots, doesn’t deserve a discount on our supply, and doesn’t deserve the redhead. It wasn’t about her. But in the spirit of full transparency, fucking Coppola’s bride was no hardship.” I jerked a shoulder in a shrug. “Would do it again, provided the chance.”
If my dick is still working after these beatings.
I hoped to hell Tierney was far, far away from this place by now. On a plane, sipping champagne, planning her new and exciting life. I hoped she was weaving a game plan in that gorgeous head of hers. Knowing Tiernan, he padded her pockets with cash and a few fake ID’s to ensure she had everything she needed to start over. I stopped short of hoping she met a dashing gentleman in first class. A man headed in the same direction who’d take her on dinner dates every single week and wouldn’t freak the fuck out because she kissed him.
Yes, I wanted her to be happy…but notthathappy. I was still the only man for her.
Maybe if she was in a lesbian relationship…
Nope. Scratch that. No girls, either.
Anyway, where was I? Oh. Yes. Getting the shit kicked out of me by my father.
“You don’t get to decide what’s right and what’s wrong for the Camorra.” He sent a sharp knee straight into my ball sack, and finally, I fell to my knees, though I still didn’t make a sound.
“That’s for me to decide.”
“Empires sink all the time, old man,” I hissed out. “Look at Pompeii. Did you really think I’d let you sink the kingdom we all built together?”
The soldiers were still holding my hands behind my back. I spat blood on the floor. So much I had to run my tongue over my teeth to ensure they were still there.
“You idiot, Ibuiltthis empire.”
“On mine and my brothers’ backs,” I retorted heatedly. “We get a say, too.”
“Stefano is fuming. He rounded up all his soldiers and is planning an attack on us. Something big.”
Vello sent another kick, this time to my sternum, rattling every bone in my body. Thatdidmake me groan, which apparently brought him satisfaction because he finally sighed and grabbed his gun from his mahogany writing desk, flipping the action open and loading the magazine.
“Nico, Fabio, sorry you had to see this.”
“No problem, sir,” Nico murmured from behind me. “We won’t breathe a word about this.”
“I know. Because this is where your journey ends.” I heard the pops of gunshots through a suppressor as my father killed the soldiers who held me down. They fell on either side of me with loud thumps. “Have someone clean this up and spread the word Nico and Fabio went rogue in Naples.” My father tucked his gun into his holster.
I grunted in confirmation.
