34. Killian
Of all the emotions I hate and despise, guilt stands center stage, grinning at me with eyes full of pride and expectation, waiting for the moment its victim falls into its trap.
And I fall into it spectacularly while hurting my prideful firecracker even more by rejecting her and making her feel unwanted and unlovable when she is anything but.
My cock is furious with me as well, demanding I go after her to explain that I want her more than ever before. That it’s on me.
She wouldn’t have been hurt if I had told her the truth about Franco and him hating her upon sight only because she’s a woman and because she opened that mouth I love so much.
I needed to tell the fucking truth back then, and I didn’t too sure that nothing harmful would happen to a man who does nothing but harm others. Maddox claims I need to get my dick out of my ass and put it into Maricela’s. The asshole. He’s right, of course.
I saw the pain in her eyes, and I didn’t stop her. I’m destroying what we have between us—trampling on the self-confidence that was never one of Maricela’s strengths. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it.
A knock on the door snaps me out of my horrible thoughts. Maricela enters the office again. But this time, the sadness in her eyes is different—still there, but different. The blue almost takes over her sad eyes, making my heart soar.
I’m waiting for her to tell me how much I hurt her, that she wants everything to go back to normal, and that we can be a real couple and overcome our struggles. She doesn’t do that, though.
Instead, she says, “Your father is here. He’s demanding to see you.”
“Franco came out of his hole?” She doesn’t look at me, and I know it has nothing to do with Franco. It’s because of me, because of my refusal. She leaves the office and leaves me alone.
I throw the computer screen at the wall, letting it break in half, ruining it just like I ruined us.
I go out to meet the walking corpse and am glad to see that he didn’t even make it to my office on his own two feet.
One of his guards looks like they stepped out of a Hulk movie and stares at me menacingly. I wonder how much Franco paid him for this service.
“What are you doing here, Franco?” I ask in a bored voice, which I know annoys him more than anything. The fact that he came out of his house, especially in this condition, tells me Maricela’s quiet plan is starting to work. She’s much brighter than most people realize.
“I need to talk to you without your whore around.”
I approach him and ignore everything around us, the Hulk standing above him, my secretary, and even the cameras above me. The hatred for my sperm donor is not a secret I keep. The second I got the reins of his kingdom in my hands, I changed everything I could.
I press my hand on his chest, making him choke. The Hulk tries to reach me, but Kai appears as if out of nowhere and grabs his hand.
“This is a family matter. I think father and son can deal with their problems alone,” Kai states, crushing the Hulk’s fist in his.
I continue to press Franco’s chest until Maricela arrives and stops me. “Not like this,” she whispers in Spanish. “He deserves much more.” She’s right. His destruction should come, but not like this, not with witnesses from all sides.
Maricela takes a step back the second I release Franco and let him breathe. Again, I hope to see his lungs spill out of his mouth and onto the floor. Of course, it doesn’t happen. Well, a man can dream.
“Again, I ask you, Franco. What do you need?”
“You made me crazy.”
I look at him in astonishment, as if I don’t understand what he’s talking about, which only upsets him more. It takes him a while to say more as a fit of coughing wracks his body, and every time he opens his mouth, he chokes on the fluid in his lungs. I feel like I’ve won. Fate is punishing him for Isabella. For Maddox. For Kai. For Liam. For Raven. And for me.
The moment his coughing spell subsides, I say, “Explain because, as far as I remember, I haven’t seen you for more than a month and a half.” I did go to see him recently, but he didn’t know it was me.
“People think I’m crazy. But I know it’s you. You come and whisper in my ear. It’s you,” he says again, and if I didn’t have to keep a severe and confused expression on my face, I’d burst out laughing that he’s fallen into the trap Maricela carefully planned for him.
“I’m starting to think you really are crazy, Franco. You come here with this creature,” I say, indicating the Hulk, who’s still looking at the hand Kai crushed, “to tell me what? That people think you’re crazy without explaining yourself? Dear Father, I can’t help you if you don’t show me with your finger where it hurts.”
“Stop being a testa di cazzo. It doesn’t suit you. You made everyone think I’ve betrayed them, that I’m not loyal to the brotherhood.” I roll my eyes on purpose so he can see my lack of interest.
“And how come everyone thinks you’re a traitor, Father?”
Because as far as I remember, you sold us to the Irish, but I’m not stupid enough to say that part out loud. The stories about him coming here have likely already started to spread, and if he leaves a Will, that’s of no use to me. I can use episodes like this when he finally leaves this world and goes to fuck the brains of the devil himself to show he was incompetent. I almost look at the floor to debate Franco’s place on this earth for a long time.
“It’s all because of your whore,” he spits out, and I want to hurt him again, but Maricela is still holding my hand and won’t let go. If she only knew how much power she had over me and my decisions, she would realize that she controls every fiber of my being.
“You wouldn’t talk like that about Marcella. No. You wouldn’t talk like that about any woman, giving them power.”
“Maricela,” he mocks, laughing hysterically. As if her name is enough to get him off his feet. His response makes no sense. Maybe he has lost it. Soon, I will brand him insane. All I need is to push it a little more.“Whores like her aren’t worth your effort,” he continues, choking on his laughter. I try to raise my hand again, but the warmth of my little girl’s body stops me. No matter how much I hurt her, she is always here by my side.
“I recommend you wash out your mouth. Preferably with bleach.”
“That whore,” he says again. “That whore, that whore.” He sounds crazy. I never thought that some nonsense Maricela decided to put into his house in the quiet of the night would bring such results so quickly.
“You said people think you’re crazy, Franco. I’m starting to believe it myself.”
“It’s because of you. You brought ghosts into my house. You did this.” I gaze at him again, playing the game of the confused son and trying not to overplay it. People know we’re not friends.
“I haven’t seen you in almost two months, and the last time I was there, Maddox and I came to you to see how you were, and then we left. We have witnesses. Your place is full of guards. We can’t get through walls. We’re not ghosts, Franco.”
Ronen’s sister is simply a genius. We didn’t have to enter Franco’s house to start driving him crazy, and what we did was much more straightforward. We used the same cameras he installed everywhere in the house, and Ronen’s little sister hacked into those cameras and used the speakers. We started with noises that only he would hear.
Then some words were thrown until he would hear complete sentences and threats to his life. He was even instructed to call his enemies and tell them secrets only he knew. Of course, his calls didn’t go to our true enemies, but he thinks they did.
“I don’t understand why you came here, Franco, but I think you’re confused.” I use the same tone of voice I use with Connie when she’s unsure if what she’s doing is right or wrong. Gentle yet stern.
“I’m not confused. It’s you. You come at night and do it. It’s your voice. You told me to call Oisin, and he answered me. He said you’d kill me.”
“I’m not going to kill you. I don’t have to. You’ll be dying soon enough with no help from me. Everyone knows that. You’re a poor, old, weak man. I don’t see you as an enemy. You’ve never been my enemy.” The coughing that attacks him only makes my words sound more credible.
“It’s you. It’s you. I know it’s you,” he says over and over and over. I let it happen. Let him humiliate himself in front of everyone.
“Mr. Fierro.”
Bertha approaches him. She’s sensitive to the pain of others. She has no problem with blood and violence when it’s justified, but in her eyes, he appears to be the victim now. And if there’s anything she doesn’t like, it’s injustice on helpless people.
“Mr. Fierro,” she says again. “I think you need to take a breather.” Franco doesn’t like her attitude and lashes out with a slap across her face. I wasn’t able to stop him in time, but take his hand in mine and squeeze it hard.
“You will not ever touch people who work for me. You’re starting to lose your temper a little too easily, Franco. That’s not like you.”
“And that’s how you make coffee, Barbie Doll,” Maddox chirps, coming to stand in front of Franco with his cup of coffee and a toothy smile. “See, it wasn’t that hard, was it? Now, go pay for your actions. Franco, what are you doing here?”
“You,” Franco exclaims. “You can help me.”
“Me? What world do you live in? You do recall all the scars you left on me, right?”
Maddox lifts his shirt to show Franco just a fraction of the evidence. His skin is marred with scars from whips and even knives. Franco abused me badly, but Maddox suffered much more than I did. He, on the other hand, talks about the abuse he went through as if it is something to be proud of. Maybe he’s right.
“I never touched you.” Franco laughs like a person who just realized this scene is being played out in front of more than a dozen witnesses and several attorneys.
“You did,” Maddox replies, “but don’t worry. You’re not going to jail for your actions because I did that for you. Remember?”
“It wasn’t my fault,” Franco flashes the smile he’s known for, and even though the man is whiter than the wall behind his head, he still has the gravitas he’s always carried once he shows that smile.
Sick or not, Franco Fierro is a handsome man full of charisma, and that probably won’t change until the moment he stops breathing.
“Franco, you’re humiliating yourself,” I say in an attempt to hit him in the only place that hurts this man. His honor. “Go home. You need to rest. You’re sick, and you look like shit.”
“I need my wife with me. Bring me my wife.”
He tries to make it sound like an order, but instead, it sounds more like he’s whining. I almost laugh but manage to stop myself at the last moment.
Maddox scoffs. “Isabella’s in a safe place where you can’t beat her and rape her anymore.” He spits in Franco’s face, revealing all his secrets for everyone to hear.
“We’re not your servants anymore. You have no more power in this world, Franco. You’re nothing and no one. Everyone will forget you, and there isn’t a soul alive who will mourn your death.” Maddox knows where to shoot when it comes to someone like Franco.
“Hulk,” I call to the man, still cradling his hand. Pathetic. He looks at me as if he just learned his own name.
“Take this man home. He’s humiliated himself more than enough today. Don’t you think?”
“Uh,” he says, scratching his messy hair. Jeez, where does Franco find these people?
“Take him, now,” Maddox barks in a voice aimed at no one but Franco. “He has nothing to look for here. This pedophile, rapist, and abuser doesn’t belong in a lawyer’s office.”
“I still took from you,” Franco calls out, the hacking cough disappearing as if by magic, and his voice steadier and louder.
“I took the most important thing you had from both of you. Your freedom and the cunt you wanted.” He laughs until his lungs attack him again, reminding everyone how crazy and sick he is. “It was such a sweet cunt, too. Full of blood. So much blood,” he continues as Hulk wheels him toward the elevator.
“Maybe he has lost his mind,” I whisper to Maricela, who’s still holding my hand. Then I realize she’s shaking.
All that time, she didn’t speak, didn’t even curse him for what happened to her sister. Maybe because she doesn’t blame Franco, but only Santino. If so, that’s a mistake, but this isn’t the time to discuss it because she’s shaking, as if she’s just experienced the most terrible thing she has ever experienced in her life.
“Little Girl,” I whisper, afraid to startle her.
“I need to go on a break.” She leaves my side and hurries toward the kitchen. Lila follows, probably to ask her to stop abusing her. I hope Maricela won’t give in to her demands and let her drink her medicine.
“What was that?” Maddox asks. I don’t know how to answer him because I have no idea myself.
Shaking our heads, we go into my office, where we can plan the next step of making Franco lose his temper in public again.