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“Yes,” Vincente snaps, his eyes wild. “But Lorenzo had proof that he didn’t order the hit and was going to tell Bobby. I couldn’t have that, especially when word got out that the Iacopellis and Invicta were going to form an alliance. I couldn’t have that, especially if I wanted to take over.”
“So you decided to wipe out your brother, his wife, and his children,” Bobby says flatly.
Nat cries out, the anguish etched into every feature. “Why did you kill Alessandra? She was only a child!” she screams, her voice laced with raw, unrestrained fury.
Vincente shrugs. “She was collateral damage,” he replies, his cold, callous words cutting like a knife. “She shouldn’t have been home sick to be a witness.”
Nat surges forward, her eyes wild with hatred, but Edo quickly moves to hold her back, struggling to keep her from lunging at Vincente.
I stare at Vincente in a daze, my mind reeling from the sheer callousness with which he describes the murders of my mother and his own family. It’s as if he’s talking about the weather, completely devoid of any remorse or humanity.
How can a person be so utterly twisted, so heartless in the face of such unspeakable acts?
Beside me, Nat is barely being held back by Edo, her anguished screams echoing through the basement. The raw pain and fury in her voice is palpable, a testament to the devastation that Vinny has wrought.
And then, there’s Emma, who has somehow managed to get the gag out of her mouth.
“Alexis, please,” she begs. “We’re sisters. Have mercy on me. You know I didn’t mean it.”
I feel nothing but revulsion toward this woman who has tormented me for so long. Her pleas for mercy only serve to heighten my disgust.
“I’ll show you the same mercy you showed me when you fucked my boyfriend and agreed to sell me to The Brotherhood,” I reply, my voice devoid of any emotion.
Emma’s face crumples, and I watch, unmoved, as she descends into tears and desperate, futile pleas. I can’t bring myself to feel an ounce of pity for her, not when she has inflicted so much pain and suffering upon me.
In the face of such profound betrayal and anguish, any empathy I might have once felt has been extinguished. Their callousness toward my mother, toward me, has stripped me of my humanity, leaving me a mere shell of the person I once was.
I can feel Damian’s gaze upon me, his concern palpable. But even his touch, his silent support, does nothing to alleviate the overwhelming sense of loss and isolation that envelops me.
Turning to Damian, my voice is laced with a weary finality. “I’m done with this conversation.”
He looks at me with concern, no doubt sensing the shift in my demeanor. “Let’s get you out of here. An execution is about to take place.”
Emma’s eyes bulge, and she starts to scream for help, but an Invicta soldier stuffs the gag back into her mouth. She whips her head back and forth, trying to remove the gag, but is unsuccessful.
I stand firm, my gaze unwavering. “I want to watch.”
He looks at me with concern, no doubt sensing the shift in my demeanor. “Alexis, are you sure? This isn’t something you need to see.”
But I stand resolutely. “I need to see it, Damian. I need to see Vincente and Emma get what they deserve.”
I can see the conflict in Damian’s eyes, but he knows better than to try and dissuade me. He wraps an arm around me, pulling me close to him, but doesn’t try to take me out of the room.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a subtle nod from Bobby. It’s a silent acknowledgment, a tacit approval of my decision to stay.
And in that moment, I feel a strange sense of power, a twisted validation that I’m finally taking control of my own fate.
Bobby stands, his gaze sweeping over the room. Reaching down, he offers a second gun to Damian and Natalia.
“I told you that Scarlett and Vinny were mine to kill,” he says, his voice cold and authoritative. “But I wasn’t expecting the girl.”
Nat’s eyes blaze with a fierce determination as she seizes the weapon. “The kill is mine too,” she declares, her grip tightening around the gun.
Damian glances at her, his brow furrowed with concern. “Nat, are you sure?”
But Nat’s response is unwavering. “Yes,” she says, her voice trembling with barely contained emotion. “This is for our parents. For Alessandra.”
The weight of her words hangs in the air, the pain and anguish of their shared loss etched into every syllable.
