Chapter 55
Chapter Fifty-Five
End Of The Road
Chiara
I’m once again woken by the pain in my head, but this time it’s searing.
I’m slumped against something, but it’s not soft like the bed I was on before.
It feels cold and hard against my bare back.
I’m also shaking, partly because I’m still in just my fucking underwear, and partly because I’m in a dark room, sitting on cold concrete.
The only light I can see is from the small strip under the door letting in a glimmer.
It’s about the same amount of hope I currently have that I’m going to be found soon.
I’m not sure how much time has passed, but it feels like I’ve lived the longest day of my life even if I’ve been completely out of it most of the time.
The last thing I remember before waking up in this cold, dark, damp room is Alessandro telling me AJ and Uncle Gino ordered my father’s death because he was a mole and my mother chose to die rather than live for me.
None of it makes sense. They wouldn’t do that to me.
Lie, hide. Cheat me out of the truth. Would they?
The urge to vomit overpowers me, and I dry heave. I don’t think I’ve eaten or drank anything today either. I imagine it’s evening now, but I’m without any windows to know for sure, and with feeling completely disoriented it’s hard to tell.
The dull thumping pain in my head sharpens once more, and I groan, applying pressure like that might help.
“Aghh,” I shout as my fingers connect with an open gash right by my temple, where it feels like blood has clotted in my hair and stuck to my forehead.
I rub the stickiness between my fingers, bringing them to my nose, the metallic smell determining that it’s an open wound.
I try to stand but my balance fails me, so I decide crawling might be the safest option. Moving into position, I make it maybe two crawls towards the door before his sharp voice slices through the silence.
“You lied to me, Chiara.”
I freeze but don’t respond because I don’t know if I can muster my acting skills any longer. I’m so fucking exhausted. Everything hurts. My muscles. My bones. My skin. I hope Raf found my letter, because I’m certain I’m not getting out of here in one piece.
Alessandro emerges from the shadows, and I squint to see. He walked out from behind some sort of board rigged with hooks and attachments. My view is quickly blocked. He’s squatting in front of me now. But my head is down in defeat.
“Did you take me for a fucking fool,” he seethes, pushing something cold under my chin and pushing it upwards roughly. “A lying, worthless whore, that’s all you are.” Not loud, but his anger is palpable in the way every word feels lethal rolling off his tongue.
I whimper. “Please Alessandro, don’t do this,” I whisper. My stomach flips; the cold metal under my chin is the barrel of a gun.
“Do you know why the Godfathers were so desperate for you to marry Julian?”
I shake my head, and he pushes the gun up further, causing me to wince.
“So AJ could control him, stop him from fucking up his family’s name, and the Gigioliotti and Rizzo alliance would be all powerful.” He laughs diabolically.
“Ironically, both of you have something in common—you’re both fuckups! He pissed your cousin off so the deal was put on ice, then you fucked up my grand plans. You know how?” He pauses for effect. “By marrying Raf Fucking Princi.”
“Please, Alessandro,” I cry softly. “It was just so I could stay in New York. It means nothing.”
“LIAR!” he screams in my face, gripping my chin and roughly pressing his fingers into the side of my face, causing splashes of saliva to escape my mouth with my feral sobs. I feel like an animal at slaughter. I’m going to die.
“That was not my plan!” he hollers. “My plan was for Julian to marry you, bring you into the Rizzo fold, and then I was going to swoop,” he says with exaggerated shooting movements. “Kill him off, but make it look like a hit from within his own family—similar to how he took care of your dad.”
“What do you—” but he doesn’t wait for me to finish my question.
“Of course, I was going to do the honorable thing, step up to look after his wife and take over his business interests. The girls, drugs, and guns—I would’ve ended up with all the power his father didn’t trust him with.”
He stuffs the gun into the waistband of his baggy jeans. His eyes look a bit more sunken now. Then he puts his hands under my arms and yanks me to my feet. I’m unsteady, and thankfully he keeps hold of me, otherwise I’m sure I would have gone over again.
And just like he’s been doing the whole time, he switches into a whole new personality. I wonder again if I never noticed this about him when we were together or if his lifestyle has changed him for the worse over the last four years.
“So now, you know what we’re going to do?” he says in a mock singsong voice as he lifts and carries me towards the contraption he walked out from behind. “We’re going to give your husband a reason to discard you like the piece of trash you are. Adultery is a reason for divorce, no?”
My hearing catches onto the very faint sound of breaking glass and muffled grunts. So brief that I think maybe I imagined it. And maybe I did, because Alessandro gives no indication that he heard it too.
But it’s all I need for my brain and my body to finally start to talk to each other, and I feel a rumble like thunder building inside of me. I’m a survivor. I am brave. I have so much to live for. I have Raf.
Per sempre tuo.
I will not become another casualty to this family’s curse. Arabella’s words find me in my time of need. “It’s time to break the cycle. Our future depends on it.” The time was now.
I summon every last ounce of energy I have and drive both my knees into his groin.
I feel his grip loosen as he curls forward in pain. I use the opportunity to drive the heel of my hand into his nose, just like Evie taught me.
“You little bitch,” he roars, completely dropping me as he doubles over in pain. “You’re going to wish you were never fucking born.”
He’s bent in half, one hand over his groin, the other over his nose that’s now gushing blood.
I hear a clatter and a scrape of metal hitting the floor.
His gun has fallen out of his loose jeans.
I try to run towards the sound, but my legs buckle beneath me and I drop to my knees hard.
I take the brunt and just keep scrambling on my hands and knees towards it.
Wincing in pain, he lunges forward and tackles me with his full weight just as I wrap my hand around the metal of the gun.
I’m certain he cracked my ribs, but I push the pain aside and throw my body around so I’m on my back, gun still in my grip.
I know he’s still in pain, so I keep doing a push-kick motion with my legs, trying to wriggle out of his grasp and hoping to land at least one kick that will give me enough time to free me of him completely.
“Ughh. You’re going to die!” he roars as I land a few.
I’m in agony but don’t dare let go of my hold on my last resort out of here.
I tighten my grip on the gun, lift it, and point at him.
I unlock the safety latch with my thumb and find the trigger with my pointer.
I’m assuming there are bullets in here. Adrenaline has kicked in, and I forget about the pain in my body to focus on my target.
Alessandro is mouthing off, but the whooshing in my ears drowns it out.
I add pressure to the trigger. I’ve always felt like the hunted, but now I’m the hunter and I need this kill.
For Mama.
For Papa.
For Raf.
For me.
Bang!