by W Winters
It reminds me of the way my mother’s throat was slit. The way he did it.
I remember it so clearly. That scene has haunted my dreams for as long as I can remember. How he stood behind her after he’d abused her. How he didn’t do it slowly; instead it was vicious and violent. It was all I could think to do to him here in this chair and at my mercy when Carter handed me the knife.
“Aria,” Carter’s voice breaks through my terror and the memory as he commands, “Give. Me. The. Knife.” His words mix with the sound of my heavy breathing.
Carter’s voice is demanding and on the edge of anger. I barely peek at him, the fear of Stephan waking and taking the knife from me is all too real. Blood seeps into his shirt, and his mangled body is unmoving. But I know he’s going to take the knife back. Stephan will take it and do to me what he did to my mother.
I squeeze the steel handle harder. I won’t let him.
Tears prick my eyes as Carter yells at me, his voice booming in the silent room and sending a violent vibration through my chest. It hurts. It all hurts.
My head shakes in defiance. I shouldn’t disobey him. Bad things happen when I do. The cell. At the thought, my shoulders hunch and my knees go weak, ready to surrender and kneel to the man who’s held me captive yet given me this revenge.
Given me the means to avenge my mother’s death.
But I can’t move. “I can’t,” I say, and my words are weak and fall from my lips like a pathetic whimper. “I won’t.” Those two words come out harder and I reach out, swinging my arm violently in the air and slicing into Stephan’s throat again. In my periphery, I see a man back away, and then another.
A small cry slips through my lips unbidden as Carter wraps his hand around mine, his other hand on my shoulder and keeping me steady as he pries my fingers back. The murmurs of the other men in the room barely register. All I can hear is Carter shushing me, and all I can focus on are Stephan’s eyes. The depths of his irises never seemed as dark as they do now.
The steady shaking of my shoulders turns violent as I try to move backward, away from the monster, away from his grasp. To run and hide like I did all those years ago.
But I can’t. Carter won’t let me.
It’s Carter, I tell myself. Carter is holding me. Focusing on regulating my shaky breathing helps steady me back to reality.
My left knee falls to the ground first and it makes my right knee slam against the ground.
“Shh,” Carter shows me mercy. Stealing the knife from me but guarding me against my fears.
“It’s over,” he whispers as he finally pries the knife from my grasp. And I let him. I let him take it, but I won’t move until I know Stephan is dead.
“He’ll come for me,” the scared child inside of me speaks. He can’t be dead, because then it would be over. And with Stephan, it’s never over. He’s haunted me for as long as I can remember.
“She’s fucking insane.” The sharp and disgusted voice of Romano cuts through my thoughts. Thump, thump. My heart beats harder as I remember where I am. “This is insane,” Romano says with anger.
“Shut up.” Carter’s voice once again tears through my body, thrumming through my blood and for the first time, I close my eyes. But then I remember Stephan is only feet from me, and they fly open again.
The room falls silent, just as Carter commanded. His fingertips are gentle on my shoulders, one hand on each as he lowers his lips to my ear and tells me, “Go upstairs and wash yourself off.”
My head shakes on its own, my eyes not moving from the body in the chair in front of me.
“He’s not dead,” I speak softly as if it’s my excuse. Logically, I know he’s dead. He must be. But the fear that he’s not is so real, so visceral that I can’t contain it. I can’t shut it down.
Carter’s grip on me tightens as I hear him breathe heavier before huffing a low sound mixed with a grunt of anger. The second he moves away from me, all I feel is the chill of loneliness.
With one heavy step, Carter kicks over the chair, sending Stephan’s heavy body to the floor with a thud, and again the men back up while Romano says something I can’t hear. It all turns to white noise as Carter kicks the limp body. Stephan’s head falls to the side and I have to move to my right, my knees rubbing against the unforgiving floor as I look into his eyes. Still open, still staring aimlessly.
“He’s dead, Aria. He’s fucking dead!”
My head shakes as my pulse quickens, the palms of my hands sweaty. “He can’t be,” I say but my words are weak.
Carter leans over the dead body, gripping my chin in both of his hands and pulling me closer to him, but I react quickly, terrified that Stephan could reach up. That he would get me if I dared to take my eyes from his.
“Un-fucking-believable.” Carter’s mutter sends hatred through me. Hatred toward myself and my cowardice. How many years have I woken in sheer horror at the vision of the man lying dead at my feet? Enough that logic betrays me, making me think there’s no way that he’s dead.
“I’ll give you his head,” Carter says and not understanding, my eyes lift to his for only a moment, but he’s already crouching down, the knife in his hand. He lifts it high in the air and strikes it against the open wound in Stephan’s throat. His muscles tense in his neck as he hardens his jaw. Anger is evident in his strained expression as he strikes again and again, taking his frustration out on Stephan’s neck.
He holds the knife in place, sweating and panting with both anger and exertion. Carter’s shoe slams against the slick side of the knife. Over and over each thrust of his leg is accompanied with more power, more anger—no, outrage, that Stephan’s neck doesn’t split beneath the blade. My body jolts with each impact, and the awe of watching Carter destroy Stephan by tearing his head from his body slowly helps restore my sanity.
A crunch that makes my gut twist and turn echoes through the room, as does the deep growl of irritation that rumbles from Carter in a snarl. As Carter lifts his bloodstained shoe, Stephan’s head rolls backward, parted from his body.
My erratic heartbeat settles as Carter stands tall in front of me. His usually impeccable suit is a wrinkled mess against his tanned skin. He drops the jacket to the floor and rolls up his sleeves one by one, taking his time as he steadies his breathing. I watch every bit of him morph back into the controlled man I know him to be. With blood splattered on his shirt, his hard jawline seeming even harder in the light from the chandeliers above us, Carter has never looked more dominating as he towers over me.
Men talk around us, but they don’t exist in this moment. Not when Carter’s dark eyes pierce through mine and the shards of silver in them hold me hostage.
“Upstairs.” The word slips from my lips before he opens his mouth. I watch as his tongue wets his lower lip and he considers me. His eyes leave mine to trail down my body and then back up, and it’s only then I remind myself to breathe. “Upstairs to wash myself,” I repeat Carter’s command from a moment ago, letting my gaze move to Stephan’s beheaded body.
When I raise my eyes back to Carter’s, I know he was waiting for me to look back up at him.
I’ve left him waiting.
I’ve disobeyed him.
Everything moves around me slowly as I regain what little composure I have left.
Carter steps over Stephan’s dead body and grips my chin forcefully in his hand. I can’t breathe as he lowers his lips to mine, his eyes never leaving mine and tells me calmly with a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, “He’ll never have power over you again. The only thing you have to fear, is me.”
Chapter 31
Carter
“What the fuck is this, Cross?” Romano feigns anger in his voice, but the terror is unmistakable.
Picking up Stephan’s untouched and still neatly folded cloth napkin from the table, I wipe the blood from my hands and arms.
My shoulders rise and fall as I go over the last ten minutes. So little time for so much to happen. Romano isn’t meant to die to
night, but I lost my composure. If he doesn’t pull his shit together over Stephan dying, I’ll have no choice but to kill him.
Or, if I think he’ll speak a word that could ruin everything I’ve built and everything I have planned.
I can’t hide what she does to me. I can’t disguise the power Aria has over me when she doesn’t listen.
Romano knows too much.
The thought forces my neck to tilt to the side and crack. And then to the other side as Romano asks again, “You set me up?”
The indignation in his voice is sickening. As if I owe him any loyalty. Dropping the napkin to the floor, I walk toward Romano, my shoes crushing fallen glass underfoot as I near him.
“He’s a traitor,” I say simply. “He was a traitor.” Romano swallows and his hands ball into fists and then loosen. His gaze shifts to each person in the room. All of them with me, and none of them with him.
I could so easily destroy him. Take him out and be done with him. And then I wouldn’t have to worry about the impression I’ve left him with. I wouldn’t have to worry about him telling anyone else what Aria means to me.
But at that very thought, I know I’ll let him live and walk out of my home unscathed. I want them all to know.
My eyes close at the realization. As I take a deep breath and fall into the calmness of my decision, I hear Jase’s voice cut through the fog.
“We received some information from our leak at the Talvery headquarters,” Jase says and then adds, “Stephan couldn’t be trusted.” His voice is calm. Calmer than Romano’s as he replies with some sort of defense. I can’t focus on what he says; all I can do is replay each moment in my mind, trying to decipher how Romano viewed it. How my brothers saw me. How the men who work for me watched me lose control.
They’ll all know what she means to me. What she can do to me. I want every one of those pricks to know.
As my eyes slowly open, I see Romano and I grin at him, a slow methodical grin.
“Relax, Romano,” I tell him as I reach out and grip his right shoulder. I give his shoulder a firm squeeze.
I listen to his breathing hitch and watch as his pupils dilate. I’ve seen this look so many times before. The look of fear and hope mixing in the eyes of my enemies is undeniably familiar to me.
“He had to be dealt with, and I know you had a soft spot for him,” I tell him evenly, giving his shoulder another slight squeeze as I force a faint, but kind smile to my lips. “I didn’t want anyone to think you had a hand in this.” I release him and add, “I know you two were close.”
With my back to him, I survey the room, and a few of my men are cleaning up the evidence already. This isn’t the first time blood has been shed in this room and they’re more than capable of making it go away. The glass clinks as it’s swept up.
“I don’t have any room for traitors in my alliances,” I speak to Romano, although I still have my back to him.
“I could have been informed,” he responds, and I finally turn to him again.
“I thought you would enjoy the show. I was told you have a fondness for theatrics.” A flash of fear sparks in his eyes and I have to school my expression to keep the sheer delight from showing. The only thing that makes this moment better is knowing that Aria is upstairs, and she’ll be waiting for me.
“Next time, I’ll be sure to tell you in advance.” With my final words, I nod to Jase.
“I’ll show you out,” Jase says to Romano with a smirk and heads to the door, not waiting for his response. I merely stare at the old man and his ill-fitting suit that’s rumpled and marred by a small splatter of red up his arm. His eyes narrow and his chest rises once with a heavy breath. I can only imagine the taste of blood in his mouth as he bites his tongue.
“Next time,” are his parting words and they’re followed by the hollow sound of his footsteps as he leaves the room.
“You want to keep any of him, boss?” Sammy asks. He’s a young kid, but smart and eager to learn. Crouched near Stephan’s body, he gestures to the head. “Or trash it all?” He looks up at me without any fear, but in its place is respect. I think that’s why I like the kid. A very large part of me envies him. He never went through the shit I did. He didn’t have to learn the way I did.
“Burn all of him. No trace. I don’t want a single piece of that prick left in here.”
Sammy nods once and immediately gets to work.
“How long until he turns on us?” I hear Jase’s question from behind me and I turn to face my brother.
“He’d already turned on us, remember?” I remind him and Jase only smirks at me.
“He was still willing to deal with us while ripping us off. But I imagine that’s going to change now.” He leans against the wall and slips his hands in his pockets as he watches the men clean up the room.
“Both Talvery and Romano will come for us. You know that, right?” Daniel asks as he moves to join us. Declan follows and the four of us form a circle in the corner of the room.
“As long as they don’t join forces, it doesn’t matter,” I respond without thinking. My thoughts immediately go back to Aria. Consequences be damned; this was for her.
“What’s to stop them from doing that?” Declan asks. He wasn’t concerned before tonight. Of all four of us, he’s the least interested and the least informed. Because of that, I imagine he was the most shocked as well.
“A decade-long feud, greed, arrogance?” Jase answers.
“All of this, and for what?” Daniel’s question comes out harder. “It was for her, wasn’t it?”
Silence engulfs us for a moment as I watch my brother.
“There was no reason to go about it like this. To make a scene and piss off Romano like that.”
“It had to be done.” Jase is quick to answer and firm with his response.
“But we didn’t have to make Romano an enemy. Not now, not when Talvery is coming for us.” Daniel’s anger is evident, but more so, he’s scared. Scared because Addison is here with us.
“She’s safe,” I tell him, moving to the heart of his concern.
My brothers are quiet as I take in Daniel’s stance. He’s tired and anxious. “I want this shit to end, but now we’ve added gasoline to the fucking fire.”
Jase answers before I can. I’m struck by the fact that I never considered Addison. I didn’t care what the cost was for giving Aria the revenge she so desperately needed. “The guns are in, we just have to spread them and hit them hard.”
“Who are we hitting? Talvery? Or Romano?” Daniel asks Jase, but then all three of my brothers look at me. All of them wanting to know.
Daniel doesn’t hold back his concern as he says, “I know you’ve been lying to us. And now you brought war to our doorstep for her.”
“I never lied,” I mutter, and my words are a harsh whisper. Anger seeps into my blood as I watch the chaos in Daniel’s eyes heat.
“What does she mean to you?” he asks as if my answer will assuage all of his fears.
Only if I answer truthfully.
Jase’s gaze moves to the men behind us and then back to me with a subtle unasked question and I nod my head.
“Leave us,” I call out and wait to speak until the sounds of men shuffling out of the room subside. My brothers are patient. Not speaking and holding back until we’re left alone.
“She’s getting to you,” Daniel speaks softly. “You’re making calls for all of us, but she’s clouding your judgment.”
His words feel like a knife in my back.
“You’re questioning me?” I ask him, not holding back the bite of anger, but deep inside I know it’s for me. I’m angry because he’s right. My brow pinches and I force in a deep breath and then another, staring behind my brother at the soft gray wall where bright red blood is smeared.
“She saved my life,” I tell them while turning to look away. Guilt washes through me. I know I was thinking of her, not of us. But this was meant to happen. I can feel it ringing inside of me like a singular
truth never has. “And I hated her for it.” The confession comes out with a gentleness and careful touch.
The silence from my brothers begs me to look at them. To know for certain their reaction to my confession. Although there’s a hint of shock in Daniel’s eyes, there’s something else there too. Something I can’t place.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Jase asks. “She saved you?” he adds for clarification.
“It was years ago, the night Dad had to call his friend in.” I know they know what I mean by the reference. There was only one night Dad called in a favor for me. One night where I almost met death.
“Shit,” Declan bites out and runs his hand down his face. He was only a child. It was so long ago.
“As long as I’m living and breathing – she will be mine.” My response is brutal and unmoving. “Whether she likes it or not.”
“You took her because you hated her for saving you?” Daniel asks although there’s no confrontation in his tone, nothing but genuine curiosity and concern.
“I wanted her to know what it was like to wish you could just die and not have to live another day with the person you’ve become.” I almost tell him I didn’t know that I loved her. But I change the words as I add, “I didn’t know that I cared for her. Not until she came here.”
She gave me a new reason to live. Not only all those years ago when she saved me, but also this past month when I finally got her beneath me.
The silence stretches between us and it feels suffocating. I’ve never felt shame for what I’ve become, because everything I am and everything I’ve done is for the three men who stand in front of me, judging what I’ve told them.
“And Stephan?” Declan asks. He’s the only one of the three who didn’t know why I was letting Aria kill him. He didn’t care to know, like so many other things he’d rather not be aware of.