Her hand is steady. Her eyes are fixed on Isabella’s face. This is the woman who destroyed so many lives. The woman who selected girls like merchandise. The woman who turned Scarlett’s world into a nightmare and kept her running for six years.
I understand the rage. I can even feel it myself. But this isn’t Scarlett, this isn’t who she is.
“Scarlett.”
She doesn’t look at me but keeps her eyes train on Isabella.
“She deserves it,” Scarlett says, her voice flat. “For everything she did. For all those girls. For what she would have done to me. To Luca.”
“I know.”
“Then why shouldn’t I?”
Isabella is watching us with that cold smile, not even trying to run. Like she’s curious to see what we’ll do. Like this is all still a game to her.
34
VIKTOR
Pain.
That’s the first thing I feel when consciousness drags me back. Pain like fire in my arm, my knee, my head. Everything hurts in ways I didn’t know things could hurt.
I’m lying on the altar, the stone slab cold against my back and wet with what I think is my blood. My arm is bent, my knee is destroyed, and there’s a ringing in my head that won’t stop.
Dante did this to me. Broke me like a plastic doll and left me here to bleed while he went after the ledger.
I deserve it. I know that now. It took a beating and a near-death experience to see it clearly, but I deserve everything he did and more.
I can hear the gunfire and the screams of war. The battle is still ongoing, which means I haven’t been out for long. Maybe for a just a few minutes.
I force my eyes open and try to focus through the pain and the haze.
The cathedral is even messier now in just a few minutes. The bodies on the floor are double of what they were. And in the middle of it all, Isabella Marchetti’s forces are overwhelming what’s left of Dante’s men.
Isabella.
I should have known she’d come. Should have realized the Marchettis wouldn’t just let their secrets stay buried. She was always the dangerous one, more than Antonio ever was. He was cruel, but she was calculating. Cold in a way that made even me uncomfortable.
She is standing near the entrance, surrounded by guards, and watching the massacre unfold. There’s a radio in her hand that she starts speaking into, her voice authoritative.
“Status report,” she says, her voice rising through the noise.
A man’s voice comes through. “The west side is cleared. Six of Moretti’s men are down, but we’re still searching for the ledger.”
“Forget searching. Moretti knows where it is. When we get him, we get the ledger. Focus on cutting down all obstacles.” She pauses, scanning the cathedral, and I look away sharply, blending with the bodies around me to avoid getting spotted. That’d be suicidal. “New orders. The primary target is Dante Moretti. Secondary is that whore of his. I want them both down. Also, intel says there’s a child somewhere in the building…”
My blood instantly feels cold as I realize her intent even before she voices it out.
She doesn’t hesitate. “Kill him too. I’m not leaving a Moretti heir alive to come after me in fifteen years. The bloodline ends tonight. Every single one of them. The boy, the woman, Dante,anyone who’s seen the ledger or knows what’s in it. No one walks out of here breathing.”
“Understood.”
She returns the radio back to her belt and turns to one of her captains. “Send a team to sweep the lower levels. If they’ve hidden the child down there, find him. Drag him out. I don’t care if he’s one or fifty, he’s a threat as long as he’s breathing.”
A five-year-old child.She just ordered her men to hunt down and murder a five-year-old child. How cruel can one be? I know I’m no saint. I have so much blood on my hands, and even then, there are lines not to be crossed. Harming children, especially innocent ones, is top on the list. And it’s my fault the little boy is even here.
Now I see that Dante was right about the ledger. About exposing the truth and some sins being too big to bury.
