DAMON’S POV
[CONTENT WARNING: HONESTLY, I DON’T RECOMMEND READING THIS CHAPTER]
STILL FIFTEEN YEARS AGO
I placed my heel over the snake’s neck and pressed down until blood splattered across the ground.
“Snakes are often very bad signs,” Rocco said, sipping from his glass. “Especially on the day we plan to murder your father.”
Waves from the Mediterranean crashed against the rocks below.
Father had brought us to Naples to show off his weapon. In reality, that weapon was just his son he had abused all his life.
I was supposed to join some program where they would “reform” me. I still didn’t understand what that meant, but I wasn’t going to stay long enough to find out.
He returned to America for reasons he never told me. I arrived here ahead of him and stayed in a private part of the building while waiting for him to join me.
He should be here any minute.
I turned away from the view and looked at Rocco.
“Are you backing out now or what?”
“Like hell I will,” Rocco said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “The plan is perfect. And if it fails, we create a distraction and use it to our advantage.”
A guard approached us.
“Your father has arrived,” he said. “He’s asking for you. Said it’s something important.”
I looked at Rocco.
“Well,” I said. “Looks like the show’s starting.”
Rocco finished his drink and set the glass on the stone railing.
The wind rolled in from the sea, carrying salt and something colder.
“Remember,” he said quietly. “We wait for the right moment. If you screw this up, it won’t change the agreement we signed.”
I nodded.
The guard stepped aside to let me pass.
The hallway inside the building was dimly lit. It was an expensive place, quiet and polished, but somehow still cold.
Rocco followed behind me at an unhurried pace.
The guard stopped at a set of double doors and knocked once before pushing them open.
Father stood near the window with his back to us, staring out at the sea.
“Oh, my baby boy.”
I turned sharply, my heart dropping. “Mama?”
She crossed the room quickly and pulled me into a hug.
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“It’s been months since I last saw you,” she said softly. “My baby,”
I hugged her back and nearly broke.
The past few months had been hell, and she had always been the only good thing in my life.
She pulled back and studied my face.
“I begged for father before he finally brought me to see you,” she said excitedly, then paused and touched my cheek. “But look at these scars, Damien. What have you been doing?”
I glanced toward Father.
He was too busy speaking with Rocco to notice us.
“It’s training, Mama,” I lied.
She shook her head. “Not Mama. Mother. Your father doesn’t like that word.”
Then the realization hit me.
I had been so happy to see her that I forgot something important. Her being here could ruin everything.
Fuck.
“Leave us, woman,” Father’s voice drew our attention. “We have important matters to discuss.”
Mother gave me one last hug, but I didn’t hug her back because Father was watching.
“I’ll come see you,” I whispered.
She nodded and walked out of the room.
Father waited until the door closed behind her before speaking again.
“Now,” he said, turning back to a file on his desk. “Let’s discuss why I brought you here. Someone who calls himself my rival, Giuseppe, is coming to join us today.”
walked up to him, hoping his plans wouldn’t involve me having to murder someone like last time.
He turned to Rocco. “Have our men on guard at all times. This is our attempt at peace, but I can’t blindly trust him. Giuseppe will come with his son, and my bastard Rhys.”
My heart dropped. “Rhys is coming? I thought you said I had to find him myself?”
“That was before I found out Giuseppe had him,” he said, turning to me. “You still get to kill him, though. If that’s what you’re worried about.”
My plan with Rocco was to wait until nightfall, when everyone was distracted by me before he attacked Father.
With Rhys coming anytime soon, we couldn’t afford to wait until then anymore.
I glanced at Rocco, and raised a brow.
He understood immediately, but shook his head.
“He has a son who’s about your age,” Father continued. “He was trained here on the island, and left to help his father win against an opposition in Spain. But I have no doubt you’re more lethal. I made you, after all.”
My fist clenched by my side.
Another boy abused and tortured by his father while they called it “training.”
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Training to kill rivals their fathers were too scared to deal with themselves.
Father walked closer.
“I’ve spent years shaping you into something useful,” he continued. “Today is the day you reach your fullest potential. Do you understand that?”
My jaw tightened. “I understand you enjoy making me kill people,”
He smiled, but before he could speak, a knock came on the door, then it pushed open.
A guard walked in. “They’re here, sir.”
My breath stuttered, coming out in short uneven bursts as anxiety twisted in my stomach and crawled up my throat.
Father’s eyes hardened. “Tell them to make themselves comfortable.”
The guard nodded and left.
My eyes found Rocco’s again and this time, he nodded,
If we didn’t take him out now, Rhys would die by my hand. And I couldn’t let that happen.
I cleared my throat. “I’ll go clean up before we see them.”
Father waved dismissively at me. “Be back in twenty minutes.”
I walked out of the room and froze.
Father’s guards were dead and bleeding on the floor, while Rocco’s men stood over their bodies.
They nodded at me and disappeared through the hall to kill the others, no doubt, before they found that my father was under
attack.
Fuck!
It was going to be a bloodbath, especially with an enemy in our midst. I needed to get my mother off the island fast.
I took a step forward when the sound of a gunshot reverberated through the air.
My heart dropped.
Rocco must have pulled the trigger.
The hallway blurred around me as I turned back toward Father’s office. More shots rang out somewhere deeper in the building, and shouting followed.
I opened the door, and saw Rocco standing over Father’s body.
He threw the gun on the floor beside him. “There. Done. You’re my killing machine now. Giuseppe’s men must have joined the fight, even if they didn’t want to. I’ll pin your Father’s murder on them.”
My eyes were still on Father. “He’s… dead?”
“Yes, obviously,” Rocco returned. “There will be bloodshed for weeks after I frame Giuseppe. Your father’s people will strike and his people will retaliate. Get off the island and out of Italy while you still can.”
Then he walked out.
I knew I should have moved, but my legs were failing me. I pressed my temple against the wall, forcing myself to look away and
breathe.
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I should have felt relief, but instead, it felt like I was suffocating
I heard noises behind me and I turned.
The gun was in Father’s hand now, and his eyes were on me. “You… connive with an outsider to… kill your father. I should have killed you… when I had the chance.”
I froze, my mind struggling to catch up with what my eyes were seeing,
He wasn’t dead.
Father smiled at me, blood rushing out his mouth and coating his teeth. “Let’s both die and meet in hell, Stench.”
Then he pulled the trigger.
I moved before he did, crashing into the desk as the bullet grazed my arm, missing me by a few inches.
Behind me, I heard someone gasp.
I turned in time to watch as my mother’s body fell to the ground, a hole in her chest.
No.
I moved and dropped beside her. “Mama!”
My hands pressed against the wound even though I already knew it was useless.
Her eyes were lifeless.
She was gone.
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I felt tears drop from my eyes onto her face, but I didn’t even get a second to process that before Father’s laugh drew my
attention.
“Crying for your mother like a pussy?” He asked, his hand still on the trigger. “After all I did to make you a… man?”
He pulled the trigger again but this time, only a click sounded.
It was out of bullets.
Not that it would have mattered as I wouldn’t have cared to dodge.
I stood up, rage surging through my veins as I approached him. I knelt beside him and took the gun away from his weak clutch.
He wasn’t going to make it either.
“Why?” I asked through gritted teeth.
He still wore that smile I’d come to hate so much. “Weakling,” he croaked, choking on his own blood. “The bitch was annoying
“1
I didn’t let him finish.
I couldn’t stand him insulting my mother after he’d just killed her.
My hand reached out to his throat and I strangled him.
I could have done it with all my might and killed him quickly, but that would have been too kind.
I squeezed just hard enough to kill him slowly, watching as the life drained out of his eyes.
He tried to say something, but I squeezed a bit harder.
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The memories of the abuse and trauma I’d been through in his hands rushed through me.
I could still feel the whip, could still see the photos he took of me after he abused me and could still hear his voice ordering me to pin them on my bedroom wall.
Weakling.
I could still hear his voice in my head.
My tears were dropping on his face but I didn’t care.
I leaned closer so he could hear me. “Who’s the weakling now?”
Then he stopped breathing.
I finally pulled away when I saw the life had left his eyes completely.
I stared at my hands, the rage fading as fast as it had appeared and my breath coming out fast and shallow, like my lungs had forgotten how to work.
My ears rang until the sound of gunshots outside faded.
I’d just killed my father.
The room tilted, the walls closing in as a violent tremor ran through my hand. I tried to inhale but the air wouldn’t go deep enough.
My heart was squeezing too hard, the memory of his face as he died flooding my mind.
But suddenly, just when I thought I was about to die too from the panic attack, something inside of me flipped like a switch- and everything went numb.
I stood up slowly and stared at Father’s dead body but I didn’t feel anything, not even relief that he was gone and my suffering
had ended.
I turned to walk out and saw Mother still by the door, lifeless, her eyes open.
I stared at her for a whole minute.
Then without a second thought, I crossed her body like it was nothing and walked out.
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Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.

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