By Fate I Conquer (Sins of the Fathers #4)(3)

Dad grabbed Nevio by the shoulder and jerked him to his feet. “I said it’s over. And you better remember who makes the laws in this house and in the West.”

Nevio stared back at Dad for a moment before he dropped the knives and nodded.

Nino pushed away from the glass and patted Nevio’s shoulder. “You need to learn when to stop, when to control yourself.”

“Control is no fun,” Nevio said with a grin.

Dad exchanged a look with Nino I didn’t understand, shaking his head. “You have to learn control.”

“Why? You don’t ever have to control yourself as Capo.”

“I don’t have to, but I do.”

He pushed Nevio out of the room while Nino went over to the bleeding man. “I’ll be back. This isn’t over yet.” Then he followed Dad and Nevio out.

I didn’t do anything but breathe for a while, then I forced my body to move. I walked out of the room and stood in the corridor until I’d counted to fifty-five before I felt capable of moving again. I should go back up to the mansion. Instead, I walked into the cell. I’d never felt sadder and more desperate than I did in this moment.

The floor of the cell was covered in blood and the knives and pliers lay in a blood puddle on the floor next to the badly injured man on the stretcher. My brother had done this. Dad and Nino had shown him how to do it.

I couldn’t understand how the people who protected and loved me were capable of this.

I took a step closer to the man and his eyes opened but one of them wasn’t all right.

His chapped, bloody lips parted, and he said something but I couldn’t understand his rasp. I walked closer, even as panic and nausea settled in the pit of my stomach. My ballet flats touched the blood and soaked it up as I stopped beside him.

“Help me,” he croaked.

I climbed up on the stretcher and perched on my knees, terrified. What could I do for him? I couldn’t help him escape. What if that hurt my family?

Tears pressed against my eyes.

The man looked pleading. “Help me please.” He sucked in a rattling breath. “Kill me.”

I froze, eyes widening.

His face tipped toward the knives that Nevio had dropped on the floor.

“Stab me,” he pleaded.

My brows furrowed as I hopped down and reached for the knife closer to me with a trembling hand. I curled my fingers around the bloody handle. The blade was coated with the man’s blood from the endless cuts Nevio had inflicted on him. I avoided looking too closely at the man’s body. I could not bear the proof of my family’s monstrosity. I stared at the sheer fabric of my tutu that was slowly turning red with the blood around me.

“Fast. Before they return,” the man rasped.

I looked up at his begging face, or what was left of it.

Tears streamed down my cheeks.

“Show mercy, girl, and kill me.”

How could killing someone be mercy?

I’d sworn to never hurt a living creature, didn’t eat meat, dairy or eggs, and here this man was asking me to end his life.

My fingers around the knife handle tightened but I could not move. Despite my revulsion, I reached out with my other hand and touched the man’s shoulder very gently. I never touched people I didn’t know. But this man needed comfort and so I had to get over my anxiety. “I can’t.” The words were broken. I moved my hand back again.

The man tried to roll over, closer to me but the cuffs held him in place. He groaned and lay back on his back.

“Then give me the knife. Don’t let me suffer.”

“I can talk to my father. He’ll spare you.”

The man cackled, and blood spilled out of his mouth. “Your father and his brothers do this every day. They torture people for business and for fun. They know no mercy.”

I’d feared it was like that after what I’d heard earlier. My heart beat faster and faster, and the pounding in my temples was close to unbearable by now. A distant whistling sound rang in my ears. I needed quiet. I needed dark. I needed sweet oblivion.

The man’s eye widened because of something at my back, and he began to shake, then cry.

“Greta,” Nino said in a careful voice.

I didn’t turn to him, only looked at the sheer terror in the man’s face, at his desperate crying. I’d never felt terror like his. Terror because of the men I loved with all my heart.

“Come down immediately,” Nino said. Then he appeared beside me. “You move an inch toward her and you’ll regret it,” he said in a very different tone, one he’d never used on me and wasn’t now. The man closed his eyes, his shoulders shaking with sobs. My own tears intensified seeing his anguish.

“Give me the knife, Greta.”

I tightened my hold, not taking my eyes off the man.

Nino reached for my hand with the knife but I shoved away from him, whirled around and backed up against the wall. I breathed harshly.

Nino’s brows furrowed. He raised his hands, palms facing my way. “I’m not going to hurt you. You know that. Give me the knife and come upstairs.” He took a step closer and I brought the blade up so it pressed against the spot beneath my ribs. I’d watched enough fight training to know this was where you aimed when you wanted to kill and I always listened when Nino explained anatomy.

Nino regarded the knife then nodded slowly. “All right.”