33
Ialready knew who was on the other side of my door without having seen the surveillance footage. Having arrived from his trip late last night, Rocco had been texting and calling me nonstop, but I wasn’t in the headspace to deal with him or whatever he had going on. I should have known better. Known he was bound to come around sooner than I was ready. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he could somehow be involved in the recent attempts on my life and against our family. Threats on our lives and livelihoods weren’t anything new, but something about this seemed personal. I didn’t want to believe that my childhood friend, the man who had grown up like one of my brothers, whether he saw me that way or not, had orchestrated the chaos of the last few weeks.
“So you are alive?”
“Surprised or disappointed,” I asked, casually leaning on the doorframe but ready to react if the need arose.
One of his eyes narrowed, jaw twitching as he regarded me. “Is that really what you think? That I’m behind everything that’s happened?”
“I didn’t say that. But it’s a little telling when you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Rocco chuckled and attempted to let himself inside, but I extended my arm, blocking him. He froze and stared at me like I’d sprouted an extra head.
“Mu?eca, you can’t possibly be serious. Me? You think I did this to you?”
For a second, my heart plummeted. Rocco wasn’t the type of man who showed emotions or made attachments, but something in his eyes told me my accusation had stung.
“Roc, you have to understand where I’m coming from.” I put a finger to his chest. “You were the first to know about the ambush at my father’s warehouse. The one who put together and coordinated the retaliation at the compound.”
“Bullshit. I chose a random day and time when I knew they’d be there.”
“Only they weren’t, at least not how we expected. Instead, they were waiting for us. They knew exactly the moment we’d breach the facility. That can’t be a coincidence. And how convenient for you to leave the wedding reception just before all hell breaks loose.”
He balled his fists and punched the wall. I’d be lying to myself if I denied the sliver of fear that crept up the back of my neck at his sudden rage.
“Dammit, Amalia. You think I’d send you into a death trap? And hire men to kill you on your wedding day?”
I removed my arm from the frame and positioned myself in the doorway. “A month ago, I would have said no. But today, things are different.”
“Of course they are, aren’t they? There’s a new man in your life, and you can’t have old friends putting a damper on that. So, it’s easier to blindly throw accusations. Did he put these thoughts in your head?”
“Since when do I base my thoughts and actions on someone else’s judgment?”
“I don’t know you anymore. The you from one month ago would have never ignored my calls or accused me of trying to harm you.”
There it was again—the pain in his eyes. But I couldn’t let emotions blind me. I had to think logically, and all of it added up—as much as it hurt.
Rocco extended his arms at his sides defensively. “So, what now? What is La reina going to do? Kill me?”
Again, he raised a good point. He would have already been bleeding out on the ground at my feet had he been anyone else, even with the doubts clouding my brain. But this was Rocco, and even with the evidence stacked against him, a little voice at the back of my thoughts told me to wait.
It was stupid, and maybe I was holding on to that little girl and the boy who had once been her best friend, but—
Rocco’s hands were suddenly cutting off my air supply, his eyes crazed and unrecognizable. He shoved me against the metal door, the impact painful as my head spun.
“I had our whole future planned out, mu?eca. You and I would have been so perfect. We could have burned the whole fucking world to the ground and made it better. Just you and me. El rey y la reina.”
I clawed at his hands, the need to breathe taking over rational thought, but Rocco was unfazed and dragged me through the doorway, closing it behind us and away from security and other staff.
“I tried to make you see. Show you that I was who you were supposed to be with,” he snarled through gritted teeth. “But you chose some bastard you didn’t even know.” The pressure at the back of my eyes was unbearable as was the sinking feeling in my stomach. “Do you have any idea how that made me feel?” Rocco’s face twisted into a sadistic smile. “Sshh, don’t say anything, beautiful. It’s okay. He won’t be a problem for much longer. I’ve got plans for Kai Cain.”
There it was, the words to slap me back into reality and shake me from the shock of Rocco attempting to end my life.
As black splotches clouded my vision, I reached into my side and pulled out a blade. Too disoriented for precision, I drove the knife wherever I could. It took two stabs for him to realize what had happened. His grip loosened, and I sucked in one gasp of air before stabbing him a third time.
With wide eyes, Rocco put a hand to his side where blood was now dripping in a steady stream onto the floor. He regarded his bloodied fingers and flashed me the same insidious grin as before.
“So it really is over between you and me, huh?”
“Fuck you,” I choked out, still attempting to catch my breath.
He chuckled. “Now that is my biggest regret. Not having fucked you.” Rocco took two unsteady steps toward me. “Mostly because I was trying to be the good guy. And what did that get me?”
“Fucked anyway,” I said, throwing the knife into his abdomen.
He fell to his knees and looked down at the black handle protruding from his body. “Bitch, I liked this shirt.”
I fisted the top of his hair, tilting his head back while I pushed the knife deeper, forcing grunts and growls from him as he jolted. Tears burned my eyes as I mourned for who I thought was a friend and how this tragic moment was our end. Despite everything, I felt his loss, his betrayal deep in my soul, a scar I knew I’d never heal from.
“Amalia,” he whispered, reaching for me.
“Shut up,” I cried. “You don’t get to speak to me.” Tearing the knife from his abdomen, I pressed it to his throat. “See you in hell, friend.”
“How about…we get there together?” Rocco gripped my hair with one hand and my wrist with the other, yanking me forward and laying me out on my back. The knife flew and slid across the floor too far for me to make a run for it in time.
“Come here!”
He attempted to pin me, but I sucker-punched him in the jaw and twice in the wound on his side. I cursed having left my gun in the bedroom.
“Stop fighting me,” he seethed. And before I could react, he slapped me across the face. Ringing exploded in my ear on impact, leaving me vulnerable and disoriented again. Blinking rapidly and holding the sides of my head, I attempted to get to my feet, but he tackled and slammed me against the floor, causing a rush of painful air to leave my body.
“F—fuck…Rocco…stop.” I wasn’t sure if he hit me a second time. My thoughts were jumbled, my vision blurred, and there was no oxygen.
Fuck. He was strangling me again, only this time, I had nothing left to fight him off.
I clawed at his face, but it was impossible to get a grip. He was sweating, bloody, and fucking rabid.
They say your life flashes behind your eyes when you’re at death’s door, but maybe they’re wrong.
Kai’s face appeared first, followed by my parents, Gio, and even Milly. It was like hell’s way of taunting me, of showing me everything I’d be missing in my life.
“Let her go!”
No, Gio. No.
My brother’s voice gave me an extra dose of adrenaline, oxygen I didn’t know I had, to keep fighting. His blurry figure was doubled, but I could see he was holding a gun.
I couldn’t let him do it. Not again. Desperation set in, stealing the last of my oxygen reserves.
“Do it, kid. Prove you’re not a weak little fuck.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw a black object to my left, and I reached blindly, hoping beyond hope that it was my knife.
Rocco didn’t have time to react before I plunged it into the side of his throat. His grip loosened just enough for me to scrape in some air and the strength to tear it out and, this time, drive into his skull from beneath his chin.
A burst of blood poured out from his body and all over me. I tried to keep my mouth closed, but it was impossible as I was still panting. Gio dove forward and pushed Rocco’s convulsing body off me, gripping me by the shoulders and into a sitting position.
“Are you okay? Talk to me!” He was frantic and maybe hadn’t realized he was shaking me too fucking much.
“Gio…stop,” I managed to rasp out, still trying to relearn how to breathe.
“He was going to kill you.” Gio turned toward Rocco’s still body. “What happened?”
“It was him. This whole time, it was him.”
The front door swung open. Kai walked through, with long-stemmed red roses and a smile, until awareness dawned, and he took in the carnage.
His helmet and the roses hit the floor, and he was on me in the next second.
“Amalia, where are you hurt? Where is it coming from?” His hands were all over, searching for wounds that didn’t exist. “Baby, look at me.”
“I’m fine.” Despite the terror I’d just gone through, his arms filled me with a sense of calm and security. I buried my face in his chest and let myself be vulnerable for the first time in my life.
Low, labored moans had us both whipping our heads toward the noise. Without a word, Kai stood and emptied his mag into Rocco’s body. He dropped the empty magazine and reloaded, taking off through the open door. Gio and I followed as he fired several rounds into Rocco’s driver, who had gotten out of his car, most likely when he’d heard the gunfire. His knees hit the ground, and he took another bullet to the head before falling face-first onto the concrete. Another man from inside the SUV fired at Kai but missed, though he didn’t share that luck, as Kai shot him twice in the chest, causing him to fall out of the vehicle.
I’d never seen that look on Kai’s face—rage in its rawest form. His pupils were blown, his jaw tight. As he passed the driver’s body, he sent another round into the back of his head. Kai moved as though on autopilot. Without a word, he dragged Rocco and the other men’s bodies and shoved them back into the vehicle, then dashed inside the house and into an office.
“Kai,” I called, but for once, my husband didn’t acknowledge me. It was like his vision was tunneled, and he had one objective. He walked out with a bottle of Vodka and a piece of his torn shirt sticking out of the top.
Molotov cocktail.
Flames engulfed the car in seconds, but Kai remained emotionless until he was in front of me again.
“Amalia, baby, are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, lightly touching a tender area on my lip from when Rocco had slapped me. “Gio, tell Milly to call clean-up.”
Kai said nothing else as he scooped me up and headed for the stairs.