All I wanted to do was hoist his ass out of here, but I didn’t want to scare him, especially after discovering what Mario had done to him once again. I felt like my insides were torn apart. My avenging beast was awakened again, ready to rip and kill. Mario was going to feel my wrath upon him. But I didn’t have to go find him to do that. He came to me.
And now we are face-to-face. There’s no resemblance to Art whatsoever. Mario has dark hair, a heavy figure, and strong features, more like Jack Enzino.Sole mio is nothing like them.
I could just shoot him, I still have two bullets in my gun, but I want him to suffer, to scream in agonizing pain.
“Luca ‘Scarface’ Nero.” He smirks excitedly at me.
“It’s Luca ‘The Blade’ Nero, asshole,” Art corrects him, almost making me huff.
“No.” His lips curl into an evil smile. “I gave him those scars soon after I stabbed his mother, three, four times?”
I hear Art gasping even though his hands move to cover his mouth. I tighten my grip on the knife and grit my teeth until my jaw hurts. I’m trying to calm myself, but the inner beast isn’t listening. Pushing for retaliation, for blood and death. Mario is attempting to rile me up, to make me attack him rashly, blinded by my rage. And I almost let the beast win when I hear Art’s furious hiss.
“You will burn in hell today, you depraved fucker! Luca will see to it.”
His support, the faith he has in me, I can clearly see it in his light blue eyes. The same shade as Mario’s, but they couldn’t feel more different. Art’s pools shine with radiance, grit, and kinkiness, while his brother’s are simply dead. There’s nothing but ugliness there.
“You know I created that nickname and forced people to say it.” He sneers. “I wanted you to remember that night. You were supposed to be dead after the beating I gave you. It was irksome when I realized who you were. But I learned from my mistake. I practice a lot. Did you enjoy my present in the park?”
My eyes fall on the tacky bracelet that escaped Mario’s shirt cuff confinement. Little gold horns dangle down. I bet there are crosses engraved on each charm.
I remain silent, waiting for a way in to attack him. I have to be careful, I don’t want Art to get hurt. The urge to kill his brotheris becoming unbearable though, and the low growl in my throat is the only outward sign of my inner turmoil.
“Leaving the body on your turf was a stroke of genius. You were supposed to get on the police’s radar, though. That boy died in vain…such a screamer.” He sounds completely detached. “My dearest never screams when I play with him.” He sends an unsettling look Art’s way.
“Go die in a ditch!” my feisty little imp exclaims.
“I’m going to tear you apart and crush your bones.” I infuse my growl with blazing wrath before swinging my knife.
He jumps back, chuckling like a fucking lunatic. “Stabbing you to death is going to be such a pleasure. Everybody’ll see what happens when someone tries to take what belongs to me.”
“Everybody thinks you are revolting,” Art interjects. He’s slowly moving toward the table.
Mario takes advantage of my moment of distraction, cutting the front of my shirt and tie. Art screams a scaredno,but I don’t have time to reassure him I’m fine. I need to keep my eyes on the piece of scum. Knife fights are brief and vicious, where a single failure in defense can be fatal. They are almost frantic, and inherently lethal. I need to neutralize his weapon hand, controlling physical space, and delivering an incapacitating slash.
“As you can see, he doesn’t belong to you, you sick fuck.” I smirk back, trying to provoke him the same as he did to me.
“He’s fucking mine!” He snaps his teeth, visibly fired up. It’s working.
“He’ll leave with me today. You won’t ever touch him again while I will—every fucking day.”
“Over my dead body,” he hisses, lowering both his knives.
“That can be arranged,” I say just before we both lunge.
We exchange high-speed slashes and thrusts, both sustaining cuts within the first minutes. My reactions are driven by adrenaline and fury as I shift from standoffs to sudden explosive attacks, focusing on evasion and maintaining a stance that protects vital organs since he has two knives and I only one.
I have tuned out my surroundings, only hearing the sound of my own heavy breathing and the scuffle of boots on the floor. He pounces again, and I half spin, evading his attack and then elbowing his temple after another half twist of my body. I move back and kick the knife off his right hand. It falls on the floor, bounces, and slides somewhere.
“You might be good at cutting defenseless victims, but you are shit in a fight,” I sneer, feeling once again so fucking grateful for Don Massimo’s teaching and all the training with Seb and Marco.
His blades got me four times, only superficial, defensive wounds over my free forearm—he slices rapidly, but he has no technique. While his blue polo is covered in blood, his arms and left thigh as well. Yes, I’m that good, you motherfucker.
Mario roars and dives toward me again. I parry his knife hand with my own. And move away. He tries again and again. Clearly blinded by anger. His pumps are rapid, frantic, repetitive. Predictable at this point. On his next thrust, I grab his left wrist and squeeze until he lets the knife go with a grunt. Vibrations ring up my arm when my fist connects with his cheekbone.Blood splatters over my chin as his lip gets busted. And I let my mouth turn up into a feral smile.
The vengeful beast is out, it’s taken over. It’s impossible to shove it back now. I don’t want to. It’s waited so long for this, and I want it to enjoy it, too. I crack his nose and jaw as laughter reaches my ears—I realize it’s coming from me. I keep going, striking and hitting, drunk on violence and my vendetta. Until I hear afuckcome from behind me. Art. My fist freezes in the air. I’m on the floor, straddling Mario. My other hand around his neck. I feel the slickness of blood on my knuckles. His nose is broken, one eye shut, brown hair painted red but he’s still breathing, still glaring at me.
I start turning toward Art when I suddenly feel the wet warmth of blood on my side, then the sharp, searing pain hits.
