Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
FINA
What happens next shocks even Sandro.
Renzo doesn’t just handle Emo, he owns him. Without a word and in a single brutal motion, he hauls Emo over a shoulder and stalks upstairs.
“Where is he taking him?” Riley asks.
Sandro grabs her hand and tugs her along, and I follow.
Men settle into the pews like spectators in an arena. I slide next to Riley, who’s tucked away beside Sandro. We wait in a state of suspenseful anticipation, drawn by violence’s magnetic pull.
A ripple of gasps breaks out at the movement in the choir loft high over the altar.
I blink.
Emo appears, his shoulder impaled by a steel cross as he’s thrust forward, dangling like a broken puppet, blood soaking the white catsuit.
It’s hard to say what’s more shocking; Emo nailed by a cross, the now red catsuit, his precarious position, or Renzo’s cold efficiency?
With every wiggle and squirm, the cross holding him over the altar buckles. Gravity and his weight reassure me he’ll eventually fall, though unfortunately likely to survive impact.
Excitement grips the men around me.
“Do you see Renzo?”
“Bleeding like an open fire hydrant—how long do you think it’ll take for him to slide off the cross?”
“Stupid traitor should have learned you never fuck with a Beneventi.”
“Jesus, Renzo’s only warming up.” Sandro stands. “Come on, both of you. This isn’t for your eyes.”
Riley rises to her feet. “What’s he going to …”
“You hear me?” Sandro says to me, bossy as ever. “Let’s go.”
“The monster inside him doesn’t frighten me.” My heart pulls, sparking my rage. “My issue is that he’s a goddamn liar.”
Sandro pulls his head back like I punched him.
“If I weren’t so exhausted, I’d plunge a cross through his miserable heart and give Emo some company.”
He looks to Riley. “What the fuck?”
“I’ll explain outside.”
He pins me with a hard stare.
“Despite all this, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“You’re as bloodthirsty as we are.” Admiration fills his tone.
My heart pinches while I watch him guide Riley away. The overbearing A-hole’s actually kind of sweet.
I close my eyes, tired and ready for this to be over. Afterward, I’ll check the car, that’s hopefully still in the street leading to the church, for my purse. God, please say it is—haven’t I suffered enough for what I did?
Either way, I’m returning to Rome. I’ll pick up where I left off before Renzo fell back into my life.
I’ve earned a redo.
He’s good at giving me nothing, and I’m banking on him leaving me the fuck alone.
A low rumble from behind has heads turning.
Then louder, the dangerous and unmistakable growl of a chain saw as it roars to life.
Renzo steps into view, shirtless, hair messy, and jaw set like stone. He moves down the aisle with a predator’s grace, framed in a kaleidoscope of stained glass light, the antithesis of anything pure and holy.
Every step radiates raw dominance.
Every man sits straighter in his powerful presence.
The darkest part of me is turned on by the monster in the aisle. Curiosity about this violent side of him fueling the slow hum within.
He rakes cold eyes over us, until they lock on me. Dark, assessing, almost daring me to look away.
Heart pounding, I try, but fail, my own battle raging inside.
I inhale sharply, and am met with smoke, mixed with an odd chemical smell … plastic.
My eyes rise.
Emo’s on fire.
Everyone begins talking at once. “Covered that bastard in candle wax.”
“Rubber suit will give before the burn sets in.”
The chain saw growls in warning.
“With the way he’s twisting and turning, my bet’s he’ll soon slide free.”
Emo thrashes, while flames slowly, ever so slowly crawl down the catsuit.
Renzo reaches the end of the aisle, climbs the three steps to the altar, and faces us. With a quick flex of his fingers, the chain saw revs impatiently.
This isn’t just vengeance; it’s a cold, calculated show.
This is Renzo baring his teeth.
God help me, but he’s horrifyingly hot.
“Can fear kill you?” someone murmurs, his tone awestruck.
“What’s worse? Burning on a cross or getting sliced and diced after a bad fall?”
“It has to be by chain saw. It’s the Beneventi way.”
Renzo stands, arms folded, and waits.
And what do I do? Escape the church before Emo’s completely dismembered? Spare myself from witnessing Renzo’s brutality? Get a jump start and escape to Rome?
No, no, and no.
I soak it in. Every scream. Every cut. Every deadly slice.
Because it isn’t the monster who is Renzo Beneventi that’s driving me away.
It’s the man who walked away from me first.