Ottavio’s POV
“I thought you wouldn’t show. I was about to dismiss the girls,” Bruno rasped, then turned to study me. “Christ, you look like hell.”
He wasn’t wrong. My hands were still caked with blood, the first life I’d claimed in two years that wasn't at Brown's order and one I’d taken for myself. The old man’s screams still played like a dark symphony in my head. Every cry, every desperate plea had only urged me to keep cutting, piece by piece, until what was left was nothing more than a gory shell of a man.
“Get me water,” I told the guard at the door. Then I looked at Bruno. “Help me with this.”
The guard returned with a basin, the water clean and cool against my skin.He waited till the guy had left before he rose without question, pulling the skull mask off my face with ease. No
