“I’ve wanted to strangle you with my bare hands for a long time now, Kenji,” Sandro hisses, his voice low and deadly.
A shiver races up my spine at their murderous edge.
“But after these last few days toreallythink about it in my cell, I’ve decided that death’s too good for you.”
Kenji shudders violently, and he thrashes helplessly in Sandro’s grip. “Please, have mercy!” he begs, all semblance of his cocky arrogance vanishing.
“I want you to beg,” Sandro snarls.
“Please, please, God, I’ll do anything!” Kenji screams, the words echoing with jarring familiarity as the tables are suddenly reversed. Only, when I said those words, I was pleading for my child’s life. Kenji’s only pleading for his own.
“No. Not me, you piece of garbage. I want you to plead for my wife’s forgiveness.” Grasping the handle of the blade, Sandro wrenches it back out of the stone, then he hauls Kenji by his collar across the room to kneel before me like a sacred offering.
My heart stutters.He doesn’t truly expect me to forgive Kenji, does he?
If I did, would Sandro spare him?
My eyes flick up to my husband’s battered face, the gleam in his eye that screams for blood. But all I see when he looks at me is overwhelming love.
Then my gaze snaps back down to Kenji as he sobs piteously.
“Please, please, Evi?—”
“Signora Chiaroscuro,” Sandro snarls, bringing a knee to the side of Kenji’s head as punishment. “You will speak to my wife with respect.”
Kenji lifts his arms defensively, his one remaining hand so tattered, I can’t imagine it would heal properly even if he lived long enough to see a doctor.
“Please, forgive me, Signora. I offer you my humblest apologies.”
Silence falls heavily as I stand there, still trussed like a stuck pig.
Then Sandro’s voice is soft, soothing as he speaks to me. “It’s up to you,amore. Whatever is right foryou. He tried to sully your goodness. I only want to offer you the opportunity to forgive if that will bringyoupeace.”
My heart floods with overwhelming love for Sandro. Even in all this violent chaos, he’s still so compassionate to recognize that this world is so far from anything I know. He’s trying to safeguard my humanity. And suddenly, I know what to do.
“I forgive you,” I say as Kenji continues to blubber at my feet, looking anything but the terrifying warlord he envisioned mere minutes ago.
He looks up, startled, disbelief in his eye, and I know why.Because what reason could I possibly have to offer him mercy?It’s not for his sake. That’s for sure. It’s entirely for Sandro’s. Because, while he can see the good in me, I can see it in him as well, a deep, unbreakable sense of compassion that I want to cherish and nurture.
“You are an angel,” Kenji murmurs, relief plain on his face.
“She truly is, isn’t she?” Sandro says, his eyes glowing with pride and devotion, then his voice turns cold and brutal. “Unfortunately for you, I’m the devil. This is for Raf and the wife you stole from him.”
And with a violent jerk, Sandro rips Kenji’s throat open to the bone, the knife cutting cleanly through.
I gasp, my jaw dropping as I stare at the grotesque display. I watch as the life drains from Kenji’s eye, his blood seeping fromthe ugly red smile that gurgles and spurts. Then he collapses in a heap. Dead.
He even incapacitates Kenji and breaks his neck, refusing to let go of the man until he’s sure, once and for all, that Kenji is dead.
Sandro’s at my side in the next instant, the guards’ keys in his hand as he slips them into the lock at my wrist and releases me with a hushed click. I stumble into him as I come down to the flats of my feet, and he catches me, one arm wrapping around my waist as his other hand reaches up to free my second wrist.
Then he’s collecting me into his arms, holding me so tight it makes my ribs groan in protest. But I don’t mind. It feels so good to have him wrapped around me, his familiar smell filling my nose, comforting me. I can hear the powerful beat of his heart, and I soak up the warmth of his feverish skin.
“Are you alright?” he asks, his voice deep and rumbling as he keeps my head cradled to his chest.
“I am now,” I breathe, my stomach fluttering nervously. Because now that we’re past the danger, I know he’ll have questions for me. And it takes no time at all for him to reach that same conclusion.
“Are you really pregnant?” he asks, the sweetest hint of hope tinging his words.
