Chapter 37 Sandro #2
“I’m going to cut your hands off!” I grind through clenched teeth.
Kenji casts a casual look my way as he rounds the side of her body to admire her from behind.
Then his eye flicks up to meet mine. “I don’t think so,” he taunts.
“Not from there, you won’t. In fact, I don’t think there’s a damn thing you can do to stop me if I decide I want to have my way with her. Right here. In front of you.”
If I had anything left to vomit, it would have come up. I feel sick at the thought of his hands on Evi, touching her, hurting her, claiming her. While all I can do is stand by and watch.
“You sick bastard. You wouldn’t dare,” I warn, my vision red with fury.
“I wouldn’t?” he teases, reaching for Evi once more.
But then he pauses, his head tilting, smirk curling, as if he’s just come to a new realization.
“Perhaps you’re right. She might be beautiful.
But I don’t really want your sloppy seconds.
So… what if I were to rearrange a few of her features instead?
” His gaze glints as he draws a gleaming knife and twirls it playfully in his hands.
“Or maybe I’ll slit her throat like we did Raf’s wife,” he suggests.
Evi gasps, cringing away from him instinctively.
I growl low, a sound that rattles the chains and shakes something deep inside me.
“You hurt one hair on her head, and there’s no hole deep or dark enough for you to crawl into where I won’t find you,” I snarl, my voice raw, ragged, but it carries, filling the room.
“And when I do, you will suffer unimaginable pain.”
Kenji rocks back, mock curiosity lighting his face. “Cute. But I hate to break it to you, Sandro. Your threats hold far less punch when we both know you’re going to die here, in this room.”
Then he turns his attention back to Evi, his eye glinting with unbridled malice. “Maybe you should decide, my sweet Italian dove,” he suggests playfully, lifting the knife to run the tip softly between her breasts. And he holds his body in just such a way that I see every painstaking movement.
Evi’s breath catches audibly, her body trembling so hard I can see it from here.
“Please…” she whispers. “Don’t hurt me.”
“Well, now. Since you asked so nicely… I’m tempted to let you have your way. But that wasn’t one of the options, lovely. So, what’s it to be? I could carve my name into your face. So people will think of me every time they look at you. Or I could make it quick, relatively painless—for you.”
Evi whimpers, her head whipping back and forth as she shakes it frantically, and she presses her lips together, as if refusing to give Kenji an answer.
Irritation flickers across his face, and the pressure of the knife increases until the silk beneath it starts to split.
He drags the tip lower, exposing several inches of her abdomen as he brings the point down to her navel.
“No answer at all, and I’ll bleed you, slow and painful while Sandro watches the life drain from your eyes. ”
“No, no, please!” Evi screams, the panic in her voice ripping at my heart.
I jerk and strain against my chains, desperate to reach her. I’ve never felt so utterly useless, and it’s agonizing to know that I can’t do anything to save her, to protect the woman I love.
“Please, God. I’ll do anything! Just don’t hurt my baby!” Evi sobs.
Her meets my eyes, tears streaming, and I see the terror, the desperation, but her words are enough to make Kenji pause.
And they punch the air straight from my lungs. I freeze.
The baby? Evi’s… pregnant?
Understanding hits me like a physical blow.
My mind goes blank, spinning, confused. Why didn’t she tell me?
We’ve had all the time in the world while we’ve been locked up in our cell together.
We’ve talked about countless other things—personal things.
I’ve told her things I’ve never talked to anyone about before.
But she couldn’t tell me this?
My thoughts scatter, torn between hurt and disbelief.
Then everything inside me snaps—my disbelief, my hurt, my confusion— as I realize, in this moment, her reasons don’t matter. The sense of betrayal collapses under the tidal wave of protective rage that washes through me like a tsunami.
Evi’s carrying our child.
And Kenji has the gall to point a knife at her. My chest hammers. My pulse throbs in my head, ringing in my ears, but I have only one instinct left. To shield her.
With a bellowing roar that shakes the very walls around us, I launch myself forward, muscles coiling, veins bulging.
The chains scrape against the rock as I tug with every ounce of strength I can muster.
My hands go numb. Every joint screams. My entire body burns, but my only focus is her and the baby.
I twist my wrists to grip the straining chains, gritting my teeth and I surge forward again and again, throwing all my strength and determination into breaking free. The metal groans but holds fast. Pain spikes, sharp and electrifying, but it’s secondary to the white-hot fury consuming me.
“There he is!” Kenji crows, and I barely hear his laughter, slow, dark, and venomous. Then he leans close so his lips brush against Evi’s ear. “Such devotion… it’s almost cute. But sweet little Sandro here… he’s trapped. That’s what makes this fun.”
Evi sobs quietly, fear racking her body, but she lifts her quivering chin, keeping her eyes fixed on me. I see her trust in me, and it fuels me, every ounce of rage burning hotter.
I take a deep breath, coiling every muscle, every tendon, every shred of strength left in my battered body.
Then I explode.
Chains groan and pop against the rock. My feet dig into the stone, arms straining. Every muscle ignites, pain exploding across my shoulders, back, and arms. Metal bites my wrists, but it’s nothing compared to the fire in my chest. My mind is singular. Protect Evi. Protect our child.
Kenji’s eyes widen slightly, the dark amusement flickering with a hint of surprise—then fear as I rip the chains out of the wall, dust billowing around me.
And my body is raw, trembling, unstoppable as I lunge forward.