Amplify

  "That’s forbidden."

  I shrug. "It might be, but when Giovanni Russo gives the okay, do you imagine anyone is going to say anything against him?"

  She’s silent for a minute but recovers quickly. "Am I supposed to be afraid of you now that you’re dressed in all black and married to a mafia boss?" her voice drips with disdain.

  I snort. "One: I always wear black. Lucy’s the one who wears the girlie stuff. Two: I don’t need to be married to a mafia boss to want to put a bullet between your eyes. Three: I’ve been the granddaughter of a mafia boss my entire life. Four: I loathe you. Five: You’re a filthy conniving whore who, by prostituting yourself as you did, gives decent women a bad rap by association. Six: I’m going to hurt you and I’m going to hurt you badly. Reason number six? That’s the reason why you should be afraid of me. Very afraid."

  "I’m not."

  "You’re a liar," I murmur, walking up to her and looking in her eyes. "Lucy did a good job fucking up your face, even with her bare feet."

  Carina spits at me and I laugh when it doesn’t come anywhere near me. "You’re too good at being a cum guzzler to know how to spit properly."

  Damian laughs. "Sorry," he apologizes. "I couldn’t help it."

  I nod. "No worries." I turn and walk back to where the shadows begin, not far enough to see Cage, Grandpa, or Emilio, but I feel their eyes on me. I turn to face Carina.

  "So. Tell me. What did you hope to gain by driving a wedge between me and Cage? Did you think he’d want you if you got me to leave him?" I ask.

  "He wanted me already, stupid girl. It’s why we fucked long before you entered the picture," she laughs.

  I bite the side of my mouth. I want nothing more than to give in to the rage building inside of me, but I don’t. I hold it back and instead, I nod.

  I walk up to her, stopping three feet away, making note of her bare feet. "And just how many times did you fuck?" I ask, not needing the answer because I already know it. What I want is to hear her lie some more so my rage builds. There’s nothing I hate more than a liar.

  She tilts her head. "Lots."

  "Yeah?" I nod. "Can’t blame you. He’s seriously amazing in bed. You know that thing he does with his tongue? Oh wait. No, you don’t. Because both times you fucked him, he was practically unconscious. And honestly, if he wasn’t, I can’t imagine anyone going near that nasty pussy with their tongue. Who knows what they’d come away with." I visibly shudder.

  "Bitch," she hisses and I smirk. I get closer to her, stepping on her bare toes with my chunky sandals. Her jaw clenches. She’s tough, I’ll give her that. This shit has to hurt, especially now when I lean forward, standing on tiptoe, putting all my weight on her toenails.

  "Why does me calling you out on your behavior make me a bitch? Honestly, when you fuck that many guys, unprotected I might add," I tsk just to piss her off even more, "you’re bound to walk away with something unpleasant." I lean in, my hands resting on the arms of the chair. "Condoms. Condoms, condoms, condoms!" I stomp on her foot with my heel and she groans.

  "This from the stupid little girl who got knocked up," she hisses in retaliation.

  I nod, rage clouding my vision now. The red mist now becoming a haze. She went there. It’s on.

  "Fair enough. You don’t know the circumstances surrounding that so I’ll let you have that one."

  "Why?" she asks.

  "Because it’s none of your fucking business."

  "But my sex life is?" she asks.

  There’s my opening. "You’re god damn right it is. You whored your way into places you didn’t belong, places you weren’t authorized to be. So, you can bet your ass it’s my business. You fucked with my family, literally and figuratively. But," I say, folding my hands in front of me and bending at the waist before standing back up and walking back and forth in front of her, "you did us a favor."

  She just looks at me, confused.

  "You helped la Famiglia weed out the weak ones, the disloyal men and women." When she looks up in surprise, I smirk. "You think we didn’t know about Marci? How you turned Gio? We know about them all. And because of you, they’re all dead. Shark bait. I’m curious... why is it, Carina, that you hate me like you do?"

  She scoffs.

  "Seriously," I murmur, walking over to the table where Damian has his tools laid out. I pick up the ice pick and look to Uncle Ernesto, who just shrugs and winks. I don’t take any of those tools—yet—I merely pull my gun out of the back waistband of my jeans. I hold it in my right hand and walk up to her. She stiffens.

  "Why?"

  She doesn’t answer so I take the muzzle of the gun and press it to the bloody spot on the bandage around her shoulder and when she winces, I press harder.

  "Why?" I demand.

  "You don’t deserve him. You never did."

  "And just who the fuck are you to tell me who or what I deserve?" I twist my gun into her wound, a fresh flow of blood staining the bandage.

  "He was supposed to be mine!" she cries out.

  I withdraw the gun. "Who said? You?"

  She says nothing.

  "Don’t you think he should have a say in who he chooses to be with?" I ask.

  She laughs. "Do you think he’s with you by choice? He’s only with you because of Giovanni."

  I lift a brow. "Do tell."

  "He never wanted you. He was forced into being in a relationship with you."

  "Hmm," I murmur. "That’s interesting," I tell her, then flash my wedding rings in her face, "considering we’re now married."

  Her face pales.

  "Was he forced to marry me too?"

  "You don’t deserve him!"

  "Why not?" I ask.

  "You left. You just took off, believing what I told you."

  I nod at her and walk over to the tools again. I tuck my Beretta back into my waistband after wiping it off. Then I pick up the hammer.

  "I did." I toss the hammer back and forth between my hands—right, left, right, left—alternating with each step back toward her.

  Carina grins. "Then there's no way you can truly love him. Your marriage is a sham and he really does belong with me."

  That right hand is mine. Her knife hand. I think of Lucy and her babies and I don’t hesitate.

  I snort. "No, I don't think so. Nice try though." I stop in front of her and slam the hammer down on her middle finger, without warning. She bites back a scream.

  "Want to know why I ran?" I ask, as if I didn’t just shatter her finger.

  "I—" Carina whines. I can handle groans, moans, whimpers of pain, but whining? That’s pathetic.

  "I'll tell you why I ran." Slam. Hammer on her ring finger.

  "It's because of people like you." Slam. Pinky finger.

  She laughs. "Like me?"

  "Yeah," I say and grin when I slam the hammer down on her thumb, "like you." I grin as I slam the hammer into the middle of her hand and she screams in pain.

  "You know," slam onto her index finger, "cold-hearted bitches and assholes who can hurt people without showing remorse—much like I'm doing right now—though I have a reason." Slam, down on her wrist. She cries out, unable to hold back any longer. I gotta give her credit. She held out a lot longer than I anticipated.

  "People like you never do."

  I tap the hammer against my other hand then walk over to Damian's display of tools and pick up the pliers. I hate her fucking nails. That fucking tap, tap, tapping I woke up to the day she’d held a knife over me while I slept.

  I click them open and closed, narrowing my eyes on her, and Carina's eyes widen.

  "People like you who kill innocent people." I reach for her other hand, holding that index finger that she tap, tap, tapped against the bedpost that day, and pull that fucking nail out. When she screams, I look to Cage, who’s leaning forward in his chair. I can see him. His eyes are darkened. He's turned on. Truth be told, so am I. Does that make me a sick person?

  Maybe a little. But she's hurt too many people,
killed too many people, forced us to kill too many to get away with this. She nearly destroyed my relationship with Cage... she nearly destroyed me.

  I don't have the stomach to pull out another nail, but that one had to go. I still hear that tap, tap, tapping and it pisses me off.

  "Tap, tap, tap that fucking fingernail now, bitch."

  I reach for the knife.

  "Careful," Damian warns. "It's sharp."

  I flip it in the air and catch it by the handle, then toss it back and forth from hand to hand before flipping and catching it again.

  "Showoff," Damian mutters with a chuckle.

  "So tell me, Carina..." I trail off, walking back over to her, "what did you hope to gain by fucking over la Famiglia?"

  "I didn't—"

  I sigh and stab the knife into her thigh.

  "First rule... don't bullshit me."

  I pull the knife out and she screams. "Let's try this again."

  I wipe the blade off on Carina's sleeve.

  "What did you hope to gain?"

  "I don't—"

  I sigh again and look over to Damian.

  I look at Carina. "So fucking stupid." I stab the knife into the same thigh.

  "Something you should know about me—and I can tell you this because you won't live long enough to tell anyone else—my grandpa, you know, your boss, Giovanni Russo, the man you tried to fuck over—unsuccessfully I might add... well, he and my Uncle Ernesto taught me to fight, dirty and clean. They taught me to kill. They taught me to maim. They taught me how to torture and they taught me how to tell when someone's lying... like you are right now."

  "You might want to try the truth," Damian warns.

  "But I—"

  "Either way, you're dead," I tell her, straight up. "Wouldn't you rather go out quickly, with less pain?"

  I watch her think about it and sigh again. Such a dumb bitch.

  I pull the knife out of her thigh and immediately reseat it.

  "Fuck!" Carina screams.

  I pull the knife out and wipe it clean on Carina's sleeve again. I look to Damian.

  "I didn't feel a thing. Did you?"

  He lifts his brows. "Not a fucking thing."

  "What do you think, honey? Same leg or the other one?" I ask.

  Cage continues to look on from where he's sitting in the shadows.

  "Same one. Why ruin the good one before this one is sliced to bits?" he says flatly.

  "Good point."

  "By the way..."

  "Hmm?"

  "I'm going to fuck the hell out of you when we get out of here."

  I let out a laugh. "Let me at least shower first."

  "In the shower. Out of the shower. On the floor. On the table. But I think we'll avoid the kitchen where the knives are. Just in case."

  "You realize you said that all in front of my grandfather, right?"

  Grandpa flits a hand. "Carry on."

  "One last time before I get another tool. What did you hope to gain by fucking over la Famiglia?"

  "Power."

  I snort. "You're an idiot. And I know that's not all. Keep going."

  "Money."

  "You aren't getting paid enough? How much do you pay this whore?" I ask.

  Grandpa rambles off a number and I look at her incredulously. "And that's not enough for you?" I tilt my head, considering, then I nod. "I can see it, can’t you Damian?"

  "See what?" he asks with a smirk.

  "Why she needs so much money."

  "Why’s that?" Uncle Ernesto asks.

  I wave the knife in the air. "Think about it. For as many men as she’s fucked, who knows how many vaginoplasties she’s had to have to tighten her shit back up. Otherwise men would be falling into that black hole of a pussy she’s got and disappearing forever," I deadpan. Both Damian and Uncle Ernesto laugh.

  "Seriously though," I say, then stab the knife into her leg again, "did you really think working with the Manzini’s would get you more money?"

  "They pay exceptionally well. You’re on the wrong side of things. You could be making a killing," she tells me, groaning when I pull the knife back out.

  "You disgust me. I would never want to profit from selling drugs to children and kidnapping and human trafficking. Think of those women who are being sold to those sick fucking men who use and abuse them, breaking them until they either kill themselves or pray for death. How can you stand to profit off of that filth?" I ask, not bothering to hide my repulsion.

  She laughs bitterly. "You’re such a naïve idiot. Do you really think the Russos don’t do the same thing?"

  I get up in her face and press the blade to her cheek. "I’m positive. You’ve played me for the last time you stupid whore. You can spew that garbage all you want but the Russos would never stoop to that level."

  "Think what you want little girl," she snaps.

  I run the blade up her cheek, slowly, ever so slowly, and she screams as her flesh separates and blood flows from the wound. "Bad mouth my family some more. Keep going."

  "You’re crazy."

  I tilt my head to the side. "Think so?"

  "You’re fucking nuts."

  I nod. "Probably a little bit, but that’s what happens when you find your family murdered because of cowards like you."

  "I’d have loved to have pulled the trigger," she bites out.

  I laugh. "You’re too much of a pussy. You had the chance to kill me but you couldn’t do it. You played slice-through-the-air with your little pocketknife. Pathetic."

  Her eyes widen. "How do you—" Her eyes slide over to the shadows and I smirk.

  "This," I say as I stab her other thigh, "is what you do with a knife."

  "Just kill me," she cries. "You got all the information you need." I pull out the blade.

  "Yep, I did. But you held a knife to my sister’s belly where my unborn nieces and nephews are growing, innocent and unknowing." She gasps. "Did you honestly think I’d forget that? I see that knife against my sister’s belly every time I close my eyes. Why do you think I took out this hand first?" I ask and plunge the knife into her shattered hand, leaving it there. She screams, no longer able to hold back. I imagine the agony filling her. Her toes, her thigh, her hand, her fingernail, her shoulder, her face... enough.

  "Babe?" I call out to Cage.

  "Done?" he asks and I nod.

  He steps up as I pull my gun from my waistband, fingering the safety off.

  "Grandpa, is there anything else you need?" I ask.

  "No," he answers.

  "You?" I ask Emilio and I just get one tap signaling a no.

  Cage steps up to me. I train my gun on Carina, then turn back to my husband. He leans in and kisses me softly, passion growing quickly, and before I get carried away, I slide my eyes over to Carina who’s watching, completely defeated. My job is done. I pull the trigger, one bullet right between the eyes, and then I finish kissing my husband.

  He leans in and whispers, "That was fucking hot."

  "Fuck yeah it was," Damian says. "Badass Serafina. Seriously badass."

  "This isn’t something I’ll be making a habit of, but I have to be honest when I say I’m glad she’s no longer breathing the same air as us. She created a shitstorm of trouble. I’m just glad it’s handled," I say, wrapping an arm around Cage’s waist while putting the safety back on my gun.

  "One day we need to have a shooting contest," Damian says. "You were barely looking and you hit her between the fucking eyes."

  "My granddaughter is a damn good shot."

  I smirk.

  "I learned from the best and trained with the best," I say, eyeing Emilio as he steps out of the shadows. I lift my gun and aim it at him.

  He doesn’t even stop. He just smirks. "You just put your safety on. You’re not going to shoot."

  "No, I’m not. Only because you didn’t let them kill Lucy. But I am going to do this," I say quickly and punch him square in the face with everything I’ve got.

  "Fuck!" he calls out.
>
  I’d love to whimper with the pain searing through my hand, but I bite it back, not giving him the satisfaction. I do, however, hold it up and close to my chest.

  "Ah. I feel better now."

  "I bet," Emilio scoffs, rubbing his face.

  "That’s going to turn black and blue," I tell him with a smile.

  "And then some. Shit, Sera," Emilio says.

  "Did you really think you wouldn’t get retaliation from me?"

  "Well, yeah. Giovanni—"

  "Ah. There’s where you made your first mistake. Remember, I’m not part of the business. This was a one-time thing so any deals he made with you as far as la Famiglia are concerned mean nothing to me. I know you had to do it, I even understand it, and want to thank you for stepping up like you did, you still hurt her bad enough she was unconscious—while she was pregnant," I tell him, giving him the evils.

  "I knew she’d be fine. Out of it and sore for a bit, but fine. And I didn’t know about the babies. No one did," Emilio tells me.

  "Did?" I ask, dread filling me.

  He nods. "They know. That bitch told them."

  "Damn it."

  "Fee," Cage murmurs. "She’s covered. I promise you."

  I meet his gaze and nod. "That means they know about you too," I say to Cage.

  He nods. "I think they have for a while now."

  "That’s not good. Not good at all." The fear of losing him paralyzes me and he sees it.

  Cage kisses my forehead. "I’ll be okay."

  "You say that now..." I trail off.

  "Trust me, Fee?" he asks.

  I nod.

  Then he gives me that smoldering look, the one that makes my knees weak and gets me wet.

  "Sorry to kill and run, but I need to get back to my honeymoon. Gampy, I’m stealing your partner."

  He laughs and pats my cheek. "I expect nothing less from you."

  I smirk, not looking back as we exit the building and head to the bungalow.

  Sera

  Next To Me by Emeli Sande

  Now and Forever by Richard Marx

  WE BARELY MAKE IT TO THE CAR waiting for us before Cage has me pressed up against it, his mouth hot and hard on mine. I feel his arousal against my belly and rub against him. My hands roaming aimlessly over his shoulders and chest.