Chapter 42
Dominico
Ange de la Mort . I have become my nickname.
Blood drips from my hands and rage fuels my steps as I reach the fucker whose hands are tightly squeezing my little flowers throat in a grasp meant to kill.
He is up and in the air in a second, his feet dangling off the ground.
With one punch to his shocked face, bones crack and blood bursts from his nose, spraying my already blood-soaked shirt.
He is dead, the punch so forceful that it has crushed his skull and snapped his neck.
I toss his body in the opposite direction, and the loud thud of him hitting the ground is both satisfying and disappointing.
If it weren't for my little Lily lying in god only knows what state on the floor, I would have drawn it out.
I would have made him pay slowly and painfully.
He would know what it was like to call for death.
“ Il mio fiorellino , I found you.”
Gently, I cup her head as I lean forward and put my ear to her mouth. Fuck. Please don't die. The prayer silently plays over in my head as fear engulfs me, threatening to strangle me in the same fashion as my Lily has been.
"Please, breathe for me, little flower."
I hold my breath, waiting for hers. And then I feel it, a little breath that fans my face, giving me a feeling I don't fucking deserve. Relief. Joy. Redemption. For without her, this world would burn. I would become the avenger created by her death. All would pay. All would suffer.
I pull back, watching her eyes flutter as she fights to regain consciousness.
I brush a strand of her hair from her face, the pale complexion of her face contrasting against the red hand marks around her neck.
Scratch marks litter the area, where the asshole had dug his nails into the skin.
My eyes drift down, and I gently lift one flap of her dirty white gown, revealing bruises and scratches dotting the skin I can see, varying in hue.
Some are already healing, while others are clearly more serious and will require more time.
Cupping her shoulder and gently lifting her reveals blood on the dirty floor from the large stain of blood covering the back of the gown.
That fucker Rocco. This was from the whipping he gave her.
Now, similar whip marks marred his skin, except his were numerous and to an extent that even Doc Warren couldn't save him.
An hour ago, I was told he wouldn't make it through the night.
It's a pity, as I had managed to keep him alive while he begged and pleaded for death over the last few days.
"Come back to me," I whisper, my eyes darting across her face as I wait for her to obey my order. Like she always does.
I need to call for help. She needs medical attention ASAP, and I don't know if I can move her in her current state without a stretcher. I was careful during my examination, but lifting and carrying her without knowing what was broken could be even more dangerous.
I pull my phone from my pocket, only to see that the screen has been smashed.
I'm not surprised. The fight to get here had not been easy.
This place had security on the same level as I did.
But these guys are no match for me, not when what drives me is fear.
Fear of losing the one person who has made me feel alive for the first time in years.
All the innocence. All the joy. All the fucking love I had grown addicted to.
I couldn't lose it now, not when we barely had time to explore it properly.
I was selfish, and there was no fucking way death would take her now.
"Oh, how fucking sweet." I stiffen, slowly turning to face the man a few feet away, gun in hand, pointed straight at my chest.
Johnathan. I know him because I have memorized his picture, immortalizing every feature in preparation for this moment.
"I should have been told you were coming. Perhaps you have finally grown wise to the traitors in your midst. Never mind, I will deal with that later." His blue eyes drift from me to Lily, the smirk on his face so out of place, considering she was once his fiancée.
"She is a strong one. I should know." His gaze snaps back to me as I stand, purposefully slowing my movements so he doesn't shoot just for the sake of it. Lily isn't safe. I have to protect her, so my getting shot and his living are not the desired outcomes.
"I know what she is," I say, pulling the inferno of my rage towards me, covering it with indifference for now. Seeing him after everything he has done to her makes me want to act irrationally, to throw caution to the wind and just fucking destroy him. But I cannot. For her, I must stay calm.
I shift slightly to the side, blocking her from his view. If he were going to shoot, I didn't want him to hit her accidentally.
"Mmm, I don't think you do. You haven't seen her the way I have. You haven't seen how much she can take. Beatings. Scratches. Burns. I have tried it all. And still, she survives. Still, she does not submit."
There it is. The flash of anger and mania tells me exactly what his obsession with Lily is.
He cannot break her. He has tried, but she has never given in to him.
Given him what he wants. Her submission.
And not in the sense of being beaten and accepting it.
No. It is about submitting to him in the emotional sense.
Saying she gives up. That she accepts her fate.
That she cannot go on. Many would. But Lily never did.
She has been fighting for her life, for her soul, for longer than most have to.
Looking at him, I know he would even accept the ruse of it.
The ruse of Lily saying she loves him, just to get out of whatever punishment he is submitting her to. But she won't do that. She cannot.
"She breaks for me. Only me." His gaze narrows, and he jabs the gun in my direction, spit flying from his mouth as anger consumes him.
"Shut up! You're lying! She would never. Not the Lily I know."
I need to buy time. Nero and Dante would find me soon. When we first arrived, gunfire had forced us into opposite directions, but with the frequency of gunfire now being less than before, they would soon come looking for me.
"The Lily you think you know," I say, taking a small step towards him when he looks towards the door.
"You don't know her at all. And you will never get a chance to.
If you don't die here, by my hands, you will die in prison.
By someone I will wield as my hand. You will never be safe.
Everywhere you go, I will be there. Because you will never again hurt what is mine. "
His eyebrows furrow in confusion, and then his eyes widen as he realizes what I have said.
"The fucking USB. Did that bitch give it to you?" He taps his gun against his head angrily, his eyes flicking from me to Lily before he aims it at her.
"I gave it to the FBI. They are currently issuing warrants and arresting all your associates. Everyone tied to NextGen Pharma Tech, or 'the pharmacy' as you call it. All of this is over. And it's not because of her, it's because of me," I reply, redirecting his focus and the gun's aim back to me.
Once the Mancuso brothers handed us this location, we gave the USB to the FBI.
A show of goodwill, if you could call it that.
It was a political scandal, one they were better equipped to handle.
If I started eliminating them, the mafia would collapse.
A trade-off that needed to happen. While a few of them were present, keeping an eye on things off the record, most were part of a massive nationwide sting operation aimed at taking down all the main players of the sex syndicate.
By morning, the biggest sex trafficking racket would be dismantled, making headlines on the six o'clock news.
Just what I had been trying to achieve for the past year.
A noise behind me draws my attention back to Lily.
Her big, whiskey-colored eyes, bloodshot and red from the strangulation, meet mine.
She is awake. Relief crashes through me, mirrored in the look she gives me.
But it is fleeting as she turns her head, the terror in her eyes evident as her gaze darts from me to Johnathan to the gun in his hand—a sight I will never forget.
She opens her mouth, then closes it, wincing when a hoarse noise is all that escapes her.
"Good. You are awake. Just in time to watch your husband, the big bad Mafia Don, die."
Lily's eyes flare, and she shakes her head, wincing again from the pain in her neck. Her hand flies up, gently touching her skin before dropping it once more.
"Get up." The venom in Johnathan's voice makes me want to fucking kill him.
"She can't move. She is fucking injured," I grit out, taking another step towards him as the anger I am trying to keep a lid on bubbles up .
"I don't care! Get up! Now!" He shouts, waving the gun in the air like a fucking maniac.
"I want to see you two standing next to each other. Mr. and Mrs. Sante. So-called most powerful man in the world next to the most pathetic woman in the world."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lily attempt to get up, her movements strained as she works through the pain.
I clench my fists, my gaze narrowing on Johnathan as he continues taunting her.
Telling her how useless she is. How pathetic.
A barrage of insults that I doubt is new to my little flower's ears.
Memories of my mother taking similar abuse from my father, similar insults, overwhelm me.
And when a strained groan reaches my ears as il mio fiorellino stumbles trying to get up, it is the last straw.
I unbind the rage I have been struggling to control, allowing it all to bubble up.
I lunge for him, stopping his stream of insults as he swings the gun toward me.
I don’t feel the bullet as it enters, my adrenaline pumping through my body as I grip the hand holding the gun and flick my wrist, breaking his arm as he screams out in pain.
And then I have him against the wall, my hand squeezing his neck as his face turns blue while he flails around, trying to break free.
All my hate is pouring out of me as I squeeze harder, his eyes bulging and his mouth opening and closing as I crush his windpipe.
All the times he laid a hand on Lily, all the pain he has caused her, caused us, burst forth until I am squeezing his pitiful flesh and bones in my hands.
I should drag this out, but there is no time.
I have been shot before, but this feels different.
I never before cared that I might die. Now, a fear grips me, a new feeling, and I almost laugh when I think of how the Grim Reaper is repaying me in kind for what I have just done .
To my right, I hear the familiar voices of Nero and Dante, though their words are coming from far away. As the life drains from Johnathan’s eyes, so too does my strength. Leaving my body through the hole in my chest as blood pours from it.
“Dominico!” Dante shouts as I let the dead man drop to the floor, his open, fear-filled eyes making me smile as I stagger back and then fall.
Lily’s beautiful face fills my vision as her hand cups my cheek, her features drifting in and out of focus.
“Lily,” I mumble, her face drawing closer to mine, stricken and pale.
“I love you, il mio fiorellino .”
Her mouth opens and closes, no sound escaping as tears stream down her face. Slowly, she fades into darkness.
As do I.