FIVE
"I f this continues, I’ll have to open a botanic garden.”
Niko ignores me and brings the last flowerpot into the living room. He turns to look at me with an eye roll before slumping to the ground, exhausted. The elevator is getting fixed, so he had to bring each and every single flowerpot up seven floors.
“Take it up with mom.” He sighs and grabs a whiskey bottle from the table before plopping right back on the floor. He opens the lid and takes a swig of it, sighing in relief once the alcohol hits his system.
“I’ll have to,” I mumble.
Ever since little De Santis stabbed my thigh and I got discharged from the hospital, my mother's been trying to pamper me. It’s weird. She’s never acted like this before, and I don’t know how to properly handle it. I was barely able to leave the manor and come back home.
All of the flowerpots are gifts.
I don’t like flowers.
“How is your thigh?”
I take a seat next to him, grab the bottle from his hands, and take a sip. It burns as it slides down my throat, but the burning, tingling sensation is pleasant. It makes me want to have more of it.
“It’s fine. I had my stitches removed this morning. Sore, but it’s not painful.”
“That’s good.” He sighs.
This is the point in time where I either ask the question that’s been on my mind since the night I killed Franco De Santis, or I keep my mouth shut forever. My curiosity and that probing sensation in the pit of my stomach won’t let me remain silent.
“Niko,” I say, and he turns his head to look at me. “Why did Franco De Santis have your phone number?”
Niko freezes. His eyes are staring at me, though he seems to be looking through me. He doesn’t blink and doesn’t move. Instead, he’s just… existing. His silence speaks volumes, and that probing feeling in my stomach increases.
“I don’t know.”
“Before another lie leaves your mouth, I’m giving you the opportunity to tell me. I haven’t told Father, and I don’t plan to, unless you force my hand. So let me ask you again. Why did Franco De Santis have your phone number?”
He swallows a knot in his throat before taking another big sip of the whiskey. His hands start to tremble, and I take the bottle from his hands.
My carpet is white. No way in hell I’m allowing him to get messy and ruin it.
“Fran and I—”
“ Fran ? What the fuck is up with that nickname?”
Niko’s eyes bore into mine, and realization hits me.
“No, no. Oh, please don’t tell me it’s what I think it is.”
Immediately, I start feeling bad, my chest tightening. Niko and I were always close, especially when we were in our teenage years. We aren’t as close as we used to be, given that he’s busy finishing his education and I’m focused on taking over the family business.
But it doesn’t mean I wanted to take his target.
“You wanted to kill Franco yourself?”
“Franco and I had a thing.”
Silence falls in the room.
I’m staring at him, mouth agape, and eyes widened in pure horror and shock. I struggle to comprehend his words and find myself laughing in disbelief.
“No,” I say. “No way.”
Niko looks away.
“Nikolas! Sleeping with the enemy? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
He grits his teeth. “Not anymore, thanks to you.”
My brows crease. “If you’re fishing for an apology, you’re not getting it. I would kill that bastard again if given the chance.”
He flinches.
“Franco and I—” He stops and swallows. He’s no longer looking at me, and I prefer it like that. The disappointment fills my chest, and I find it hard to even speak to him. “We wanted to put an end to this feud, once and for all.”
I choke out a bitter laugh. “Did you ever, ever stop to think—” I tap my index finger against my temple furiously, “that you weren’t the first person to try that? From the moment we were old enough to understand words, it’s been drilled into our heads that the feud will end with one of the two sides completely collapsing. Do you not have a functioning brain? How the hell did you allow yourself to believe such foolish words?”
Niko raises his voice. “We had a plan, and a good one, at that! You had to ruin it.”
“I know you’re not screaming at me for thinking rationally. A plan?” I snort. “A fucking plan? You should feel lucky you’re my brother, otherwise I would’ve killed you by now. How pathetic.”
Niko abruptly stands up and knocks me to the ground. It’s not on purpose, but it still hurts like a bitch. I stare at him and rise to my feet, inching closer to him.
“If this is you rebelling because you didn’t get picked to be father’s successor, grow up.” I take another step forward. “But if you’ve truly been blinded by your emotions, I’ll allow you to take a step back and reevaluate your decision. No matter what you might feel, you should put the wellbeing of your family first.”
My brother laughs bitterly and takes a step back.
“When will it end? All the bloodshed, all the killings, and all the hurt? You don’t seem to have any intention of ever stopping. When will it be enough?”
I take a deep breath and stare at Niko. He takes a small step back, surprised by the anger that I didn’t bother hiding.
“When will it be enough? When all of them die. You may have forgotten, but I sure as hell haven’t. I found Aunt Luciella dead. I spent hours watching security cameras to see who killed her. I was the one who had to look at her fucking struggle to breathe and beg for her life. And what were you doing? Fucking the enemy with no care in the world.”
“That’s not—”
I interrupt him, my eyes welling with tears. I’m angry, and I don’t care about controlling it. It’s all the rage that has been building over the past few months, and I’ve finally reached my limit.
“And guess what?” I stare at Niko, wide-eyed, with a sadistic grin. “Franco died choking in his blood. I slit his throat—twice. He died like the pathetic dog that he was. He tossed and turned and screamed like a little bitch, desperate to live. The last thing the motherfucker ever saw was this exact same expression you’re seeing.”
Hurt flashes behind Niko’s eyes. His lips thin into a line, and he’s trying to hold himself back from becoming violent, but I can’t find it in me to give a shit. Instead, I decide to poke the bear more.
“I do not regret what I did. In fact, I’m fucking proud of myself for managing to deceive, capture, and kill Franco, all in under two hours. If I could turn back time, I would bring him before you and then kill him. Because you don’t deserve anything else. Now, get the fuck out of my sight and don’t let me see you ever again. I’m done with you.”
Niko wants to respond, but he bites his tongue and runs out of the door, fuming with rage.
How can he easily forget everything that those goddamned vipers have put us through? Kiara and Damon, our cousins, Aunt Luciella’s children, lost their mother. It’s been a while since her funeral, but they’re still inconsolable. They’re only children, and they’ve already lost so much.
How can he easily put all of that aside and play happy family with Franco?
How can it not hurt him to see our cousins cry, every single day, slowly breaking apart? He’s too far up his ass to notice that Luciella’s death was the line they never should’ve crossed.
It doesn’t hurt him because he doesn’t see it.
I see it.
I spend every weekend with my cousins, trying to help them heal from a wound that is too deep for their young hearts. I tuck them into bed and then hear them cry themselves to sleep.
How could someone ever betray their family like this?
How does Nikolas not feel any guilt?
How can he happily engage in a relationship with the man who was constantly sending people to kill his sister?
With a sigh, I lock the door and grab the whiskey bottle. In an hour, it’s all gone. I’m drunk, I’m angry, and I don’t know how to proceed. Knowing father, he will find out about Niko’s indecency and have him punished.
But that’s not enough.
Nikolas and I share one thing: an immense need for vengeance.
And his loyalty seems to be with Franco De Santis. If he turns his back on me, I’ll have to go to the extreme and get rid of him completely. It will kill Mother, devastate Father, and ruin Jane.
Where does that leave me?
It’s always Noelle who has to make the tough choices. It’s always me that has to deal with the consequences, even if the actions aren’t my own.
And that’s not my biggest issue.
If Father and the De Santis head unite, even for a short while, it gives Nikolas an opportunity to go through with whatever plan he and Franco had. I can’t allow that to happen, and I will not be sitting in the back idly. I won’t allow him to ruin what our ancestors spent their lifetimes building.
So if I have to kill him, I’ll do just that.
“I can’t believe you actually managed to get it done,” my father grumbles under his breath. “You’re oddly persistent.”
I finish wiping the blood off my face and turn to look at him with a satisfied grin on my face. I throw the dirty towel across the room, and he catches it with ease. He notices the freshly wiped blood and grimaces, allowing the towel to drop to the floor.
“I’m your daughter. Did you think I’d fail?”
“Honestly? I prayed you would.”
Yesterday, I received a call from my father. There was another hit, and he instructed me to do it. There were plenty of available men from our family, but he was adamant that it should be me.
He told me he wanted the person killed in an hour, max.
It sounded too damn fishy. I poked around and bribed a few of the people working in his manor only to find out that he’d set up a meeting with the De Santis head tonight. At the exact time I was supposed to come back from the little mission.
Instead, I got it over within half time he instructed me and returned before he got the chance to leave without me. Now, he has no choice but to take me with him.
“That’s too bad.” I give him a tight smile. “I’m coming with you.”
He scrunches his nose. “Take a shower first. You reek of blood.”
“Really?” I sniff my arms, though I can’t smell a damn thing. “It’s good. Let me go like this.”
“You have issues.”
“Got them from you.”
I turn to look in the mirror, and, aside from the bloody stench, I look fine. Tight ponytail, leather jacket, and a pair of tight leggings. It’s the perfect combination for murder, since it’s comfortable.
“Where’s Niko?” I ask, acting nonchalant as I fix the little fallen strand of my hair and return it to the ponytail.
“When did you find out?”
I clamp my mouth shut and close my eyes. It’s inevitable; he was bound to find out one way or the other, but I didn’t want it to be like this. No matter how much he screwed up, I didn’t want to be the one snitching on him.
“Noelle,” Father warns, and I have to speak.
“Not too long ago.” I bite my bottom lip. “I was going to tell you.”
“No, you weren’t. But your brother is in the basement, facing his punishment.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” I say, walking toward him. “Just because I kept my mouth shut doesn’t mean I agree with his stupidity. As of that day, I no longer have a brother.”
“Then why did you remain silent?”
“Because it was necessary. Telling you about that could’ve sparked his rebellious side. I don’t need to deal with his bullshit right now. And he’s already aware he no longer has a sister, so he should be dealing with that.”
Father hums. “Since you’re already going with me tonight, there are a few rules you must follow.”
He drops the topic of Niko. He won’t admit it but knowing that his only son thought of betraying him hurts. He doesn’t have it in him to disown or kill him, so he’s keeping him chained and locked up until Niko realizes what he did was wrong and unforgivable.
Though, given his stubborn personality, I wonder if he’ll ever realize his mistake.
“What rules?”
“Only you and I will be going. The location’s been decided, and each side will have access to cameras to ensure there’s no foul play. It’s also voice recording, so please keep your temper in check.”
“When have I not?”
He glares, ignores me, and continues to speak. “There are two rooms. I’ll be in one with Henrick, and you’ll be in the other with Hudson. You can taunt him, return the favor for your leg, but you cannot kill him. Not until we’re inside, at least. You decide how and when to take out that bastard.
“I plan on torturing him for a while. I don’t want him to die too quickly. I also need to find out under whose orders people have been trying to kill me.”
“I don’t think he’ll tell you that easily.”
“I’ll force his hand, if necessary. I plan on making this a fun little game, you know? Something to remember those motherfuckers by once they’re all dead.”
Father chuckles. “Fine. Another rule is that we cannot bring weapons, so hand over your dagger and gun.”
With a sigh, I pull out the gun from the back of my waistband and the little dagger from the inside pocket of my leather jacket. It’s not entirely clean as I did rush after finishing the mission, but it shouldn’t rust that quickly.
I hand them both over, and Father raises a brow. I roll my eyes and pull out the last dagger from my boot and toss it aside.
“Happy?”
“No,” he says. “I wish you’d feigned ignorance and had something to protect yourself with on you.”
“Alright then.”
I’m confused. Still, I walk over to where the little dagger was tossed and return it to the inside of my boot, ready to leave. Father throws on his leather jacket, the same model as the one I’m wearing. It’s cute how much he loves me but rarely shows it.
We fall in step beside one another and get inside of the car. It’s getting late, and the snow isn’t showing any indication it might stop falling. The white coat fills our surroundings, and I’m amazed at the pretty sight.
It’s cold, but it’s bearable. And the lovely sight overpowers the cold weather. I stare out of the window as the driver takes us down the path I don’t recognize. It’s in the little forest and far from the crowd.
Yikes,
I’m getting goosebumps. It reminds me of a low-budget horror movie where Father and I will be the first victims. It’s quiet, it has no lighting, and there’s nothing except a little cabin that looks like it’s about to crumble. One strong wave of wind and poof , it’s gone.
“Are you sure about this?” I whisper as we start walking toward the cabin.
“Of course.”
I notice another car with only the driver on the inside. They arrived first and suddenly, my senses sharpen. I’m on high alert.
My eyes dart between the man inside of the car and the cabin, only to notice a candle burning through the window. It’s flickering and not enough to lighten the entire room.
An eerie feeling overwhelms me. Goosebumps tug on my skin, droplets of cold sweat slowly sliding down my forehead. My heart is racing against my ribcage, and my hands are trembling.
I can’t shake it off. Something feels wrong.
“Are you okay?” Father turns toward me and pulls out a little napkin. Carefully, he wipes the sweat off my forehead, his eyes filled with worry. I can’t quite place it, but one way or the other, something will terribly go wrong.
I’m hoping that it’s just my gut feeling and nothing more; however, my gut feeling has yet to fail me. It hasn’t happened once in my twenty-three years of life.
“I’m fine.” I swallow. “Please be careful.”
He gives me a puzzled look but once he notices the desperation on my face, he nods. “I will. You too. I don’t know what kind of tricks these people might pull.”
Father kisses my forehead, and we resume our walk.
He kicks the cabin door down in style, and we’re immediately met with the two De Santis men.
They look freakishly alike.
From the suit, leather gloves, and thick coats to their mannerisms and facial expressions. Even their hairstyles are the same, except that the older one has grays lingering in his hair.
“Campbell,” the older one, Henrick, greets. His voice is filled with distaste, matching the sullen look on his face. He doesn’t want to be here any more than we do.
“De Santis,” Father greets back.
“Did you have to knock the door down?”
“Of course.”
Hudson’s gaze doesn’t move from my face. His dull eyes stare at me, shining under the pretty moonlight. He’s very handsome; anyone with a functioning pair of eyes can tell that much.
But what I find tempting about him is the pure hatred. He’s not hiding the fact that he wants me dead, and, if looks could kill, I’d drop dead immediately. That’s what makes this so much more fun.
He’s so far up his ass that he can’t see how much that hatred works in my favor. He’ll be devoured by his own stupidity, and it will be an amazing opportunity for me.
One I don’t plan on letting go to waste.