Chapter 54 Enzo #2
"Exactly, but then she had to go and ruin my evening, nagging and nagging, asking if it happened more than once and all that jazz. Frankly, I'm so relieved to be rid of her fucking mouth. It's still giving me nightmares," he adds with a fake shudder.
"And what did you tell her?" Allegra probes, putting some distance between them.
"The truth. That it only happened a few more times, but only when we were both drunk. I mean, let's face it, you're not very discerning when it comes to who you fuck, and neither am I." He shakes his head, as if it's that simple.
"She didn't understand."
"No! She started saying how wrong it was and that if I wanted, I could have fucked Allegra. But then I reminded her that we still needed her intact for her marriage."
My fists are already clenching in fury as I hear Leonardo talking so blatantly about fucking his own daughter. For fuck's sake, what's wrong with this family?
"Would you have?" Allegra speaks after a pause, her face slightly scrunched up in disgust. I want nothing more than to barge in there, hold her to my chest, and assure her that no one's ever going to touch her again.
"Nah," Leo waves his hand, the corners of his mouth pulling down. "She's too much of a cold fish. You, on the other hand…" his gaze travels up her body in a way that makes the hairs on my arm stand up.
Don't you fucking dare!
But Allegra is determined to move in for her kill, and I watch in frustration as she steps closer to him, her hand already hiding the needle. She goes in for a hug, Leo's hands lasciviously roaming over her back.
It takes everything in me not to run in there and take him off her, but I need to trust her.
Her hand comes down on his neck, jabbing the needle deep into his skin and emptying the contents of the syringe into his body.
He quickly shoves her aside, his eyes widening in shock.
"What…" he only manages to say one word as his body starts spasming. He falls off the couch in his attempt to reach Allegra, and second by second, his muscles start failing him.
Since Allegra had wanted them to feel what she'd felt when she'd been dying, I'd suggested to Lia she use a rapid-acting neurotoxin.
I'd procured the toxin for her, and now she can watch her father as he gives his last breath, knowing exactly what it feels like to be trapped in his own body—just waiting for his death.
"You're even sicker than I imagined," she moves the table aside to have better access to Leonardo's body.
Stooping down, she says something in his ear, and his eyes widen a little—the most he can move at the moment—before standing up and emptying her bag next to him.
Knives of all sizes and shapes fall on the floor, and I have to zoom in to see what she has planned.
Taking an average-sized blade, she pops open his shirt, flinging the material to the side.
My little tigress is sporting an expression that I've never seen on her face before—it's like she's stuck between a void and a deluge of emotion, both in a perpetual battle for full dominion.
One seems to win as she pushes the blade into his skin, right under his clavicles. With a zigzag motion, she positions the knife at the center of his chest, a straight line taking shape as she pushes it deeper into his flesh, dragging it until it reaches his belly button.
"I should warn you," she tilts her head at him. "I'm no doctor."
I swear I could kiss her in this moment.
I palm myself through my pants as I watch her choose between the different knives, settling on a large butcher blade.
Fuck me!
I thought I couldn't get more attracted to her, but in this moment, as she hits the blade against her father's sternum, I almost come in my pants. I don't need more encouragement as I pop my buttons open, stroking myself from base to tip.
Both her hands are wrapped around the handle of the knife, and she lifts it over her head, gathering momentum, before smashing his ribs with as much strength as she can muster. She continues hitting, blood, skin, and bone jumping up and scattering around her.
I don't know if her father is still alive—probably not—but she doesn't stop. She centers all her anger on the body until there's barely anything recognizable left of him.
Wiping the mix of sweat and blood off her forehead, she sighs deeply, and I close my eyes on a moan as I grip myself tightly, the sight of her mouth parted slightly, blood on her skin, and ruthlessness on her face making me come so hard I start seeing stars.
Fuck. She has me by the balls.
There's no other explanation for it. It's like my dick is her personal property because it only reacts to her. For fuck's sake, I've spent the last five years jacking off to photos and videos of her.
I grab a napkin to clean myself, my eyes still on the video feed. She's cleaning up too, shamelessly taking a shower in his apartment to get rid of the debris. As I see the water dribbling down her naked skin, I feel myself growing hard again.
Confirmed.
There's simply no side of her that I don't love. Not even the patricide part that we now weirdly have in common.
When she's done, she quietly slips into a pair of clean clothes, bagging the evidence and taking it with her.
Good girl.
But it's not exactly necessary, as I'll have someone sweep the place after she's gone.
She exits the building with a smile on her face, and it's like seeing the old Allegra again.