CHAPTER 12 - RED
CHAPTER
Red
THROWING MY WEIGHT against the midriff of the man opening the door, I force him back inside the house, only vaguely registering it’s not Matteo Galvatore.
Completely startled at my presence, having been told to expect a demure twenty-four-year-old woman, I have the advantage over the guard.
I was unsure whether Matteo would have security, but he clearly does. As long as there’s not lots of them, it’s irrelevant. Given what these wankers are doing within these four walls, I suspect security is minimal. They wouldn’t want their sick plan becoming common knowledge on the street.
Kicking the front door shut with the back of my foot, my one hand tightens around the burly man’s throat, the other reaching for my gun.
This twat hasn’t had a chance to reach for his and neither will he get one. “Nothing personal,” I mutter, pressing the silencer into the man’s temple.
He begins to shout, but his protests are cut short as I pull the trigger, the bullet making little more than a muffled pop as it takes out his life.
As the hefty man crumples to the floor, I glance around the opulent hallway, keeping my gun in hand just in case there’s any more guards lurking. Matteo would have heard the doorbell, presumed it’s his sister and be on his way down by now.
I give the dead man at my feet an uninterested glance. Yeah, I promised Galvatore I wouldn’t harm Matteo.
Yet.
But I didn’t promise I wouldn’t harm anyone else...
It is then that I spot the flashing red light on a unit clipped to the dead man’s belt.
Fuck! A silent alarm!
I dart into an alcove along the hallway, my heart thundering. This changes the options somewhat. I just have to pray Oscar and Cal have reached Arianna and freed her before this alarm alerted Matteo because now things will kick off.
The footsteps I hear underline that. But there’s only one pair of them.
Reminding myself of my word, I step out of the alcove and brace myself for the showdown.
My rage intensifies. Doing what I promised will be bloody difficult.
I see Matteo before he sees me as he rounds the corner. “Where is my wife?” I scream, too fired up to notice the flash of surprise on his face.
With his strong aquiline nose and square jaw, the only resemblance this cunt has to Arianna is his dark hair and deep blue eyes. With his though, I don’t see the beautiful violet hues I see in Arianna’s – just deep pools of bitter hate, madness and rage.
Rage that is aimed at me.
“Your wife is busy getting fucked by someone with the heritage to warrant it. You, however, are nobody! A piece of shit!”
Matteo advances, raising his gun. I don’t care because the white mist of fury rising higher in my mind drives me forward. Ignoring the gun in my own hand, I lurch up the hallway, hell-bent on ripping Matteo’s heart out once I’ve pulled his face off.
Matteo’s eyes flick to the scene behind me, clocking his dead guard. “You think shooting your way in achieves anything? You’ve fucking lost, Bateman, so accept you’re finished. Not seen Maria yet? Missed your chance before Luca took her away to keep your wife company? Oh, well...”
The bullet leaves Matteo’s gun, leading to me proving my inbuilt cat-like reactions still work by skewing my body to one side even before my brain translates the bullet’s trajectory is heading towards me. With a whistling sound, it embeds somewhere in the wall behind.
I raise my own gun. “Fuck you, Galvatore!”
My moment of movement is enough to allow Matteo to hit the target with his second bullet. Unfortunately for him, his shot is off and the bullet hitting my thigh barely registers. Instead, I fire my pistol, purposely aiming at his hand.
I don’t want to kill him. Not yet.
I’m an excellent shot and I know it.
As Matteo’s butchered hand relinquishes its grip, his gun clatters to the marble floor.
Capitalizing on my opening, I barrel into him and take him to the ground with my shoulder. To give this bastard his due, he’s a strong fucker even one-handed, his working hand tight around my throat.
“You piece of trash!” he hisses through clenched teeth.
I grin despite the vice around my neck and almost enjoy the dull throb radiating through my leg. I’m not sure which of us smears blood over these pristine tiles. Probably both of us. I don’t care because I’m the one with the gun.
Risking dropping his grip of my throat, Matteo lurches for my pistol and grabs the barrel with his good hand, the tattered, useless other hand’s bloodied fingers searching for my eyeballs.
The barrel now points at me, but an uppercut to Matteo’s square jaw subdues him enough for me to retrieve control.
Through the white mist in my brain, I hear the words: “she’s busy being fucked by someone”, on repeat. It’s enough to make me decide to do something I’ve never done in my life: go against my word and shoot this fucker dead.
That option then disappears with a heavy boot to the side of Matteo’s skull.
“We’ve got her!”
My head jerks up to find Oscar standing in front of me and my heart lurches in relief. Arianna’s safe, thank fuck! “Where’s the other cunt?”
Ignoring the question, Oscar digs Matteo in the ribs with his boot. “If you’re killing him, do it now because we need to go!”
The unconscious Matteo becomes irrelevant as I scramble to my feet. Arianna is free and in my van. Seeing her is the only thing I want. “I’ll keep my word. Matteo can wait.”
But I very nearly didn’t...
As a parting shot before following Oscar out of the back door, I turn back to Matteo spark out on the floor. Hawking, I spit in his face. “Later, you cunt.”
The bastard will have one hell of a headache in the morning, that’s for sure. He could probably do with getting his hand seen to as well.
I hope he doesn’t bleed out. That would take away the pleasure of what I’ll do to him once I’ve made sure my wife is all right.