Matteo
The sight of her nearly broke me.
Adriana.
Her wrists were raw, the skin flayed and swollen from steel cuffs that had bitten into her delicate flesh.
Duct tape gagged her, cutting into the soft curve of her cheeks. She looked small, fragile, chained like a captive animal—my own wife.
My chest burned with a rage so violent I thought it would rip me apart from the inside. Savio’s corpse, lying in a twisted heap on the floor, wasn’t enough.
His men sprawled lifeless around him, wasn’t enough. Nothing would be enough until I carved his name out of existence.
Every time I thought I had buried him, he clawed his way back into my world like a rotting ghost. And now this. His filth on her. His chains around her wrists. His stench contaminating what was mine.
No. It ended here.
I
