Acid replies a moment later. De Luca is the BOK? What a fucking trip. Two hunters on their way.
A few minutes pass and then I hear a car pull up at the house. I peer through the front curtains to see De Luca getting out of a black SUV. His expression is composed and he approaches the house at a normal pace, but there’s something hidden behind his back.
I go and stand behind the lounge door, and I wait, blood pounding in my ears.
De Luca lets himself in and calls, “Honey? Are you home?”
I hear him stop at the lounge door and then continue down the hall. Moving silently, I follow him. He’s got a knife hidden behind his back. He really is planning to murder his family. The wife and daughter wearing Mickey Mouse ears with him at Disneyland.
The world turns red. I have a gun in my hand but I don’t want to use my gun.
I want that fucking knife.
I want to shove it through his neck while he looks me in the eye. I want him to know it’s me who’s killing him.
With a roar I lunge at De Luca and tackle him to the ground, wrestling the knife out of his grip. I’m yelling at the top of my voice. He’s yelling.
I need to stab. Need to hurt.
“You,” he gasps, and the surprise and horror in his wide eyes is the gift I’ve been waiting for. Nine years of pent-up rage and grief break through me as I plunge the knife into De Luca’s chest.
For a second, there’s no blood. There’s just him and me and the realization in his eyes that he’s been forced to the ground in his own home and something’s happened, there’s an ache in his chest, but it can’t be the knife, it can’t be.
I yank the blade out and show it to him, covered in his blood. He stares at it, eyes huge.
I stab him again.
And again.
Blood gouts up all over me. “You fucking murderer. You piece of fucking shit. I knew I’d kill you one day.”
I can’t stop shouting, and I can’t stop stabbing. The knife sticks in his sternum and my hand slips on the bloody handle of the knife.
I stay where I am, watching the handle moving slowly up and down as De Luca struggles to breathe. His face is filled with rage.
“It’s me. Salvatore fucking Fiore. I’ve killed you, you worthless piece of shit.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but I don’t give a fuck what he has to say. I pull the knife out of his chest and slash it across his throat with a roar. Blood gouts all over me. Hot, viscous blood. The blood of my worst enemy.
It feels like victory.
It tastes like vengeance.
And he’s dying. This piece of shit is dying before my eyes.
I rip his shirt open, take the knife in my hand and carve a word into his chest as his blood gurgles in his throat.
KILLER.
I grab a fistful of his hair and yank his face up to mine. “Everyone’s going to know what you are. You know who found you out? Romano’s daughter. She would have liked you to stand trial, but I couldn’t wait to send you straight to fucking hell. Say hello to the devil, courtesy of the Coldlake Syndicate.”
With the last of his strength, he glares at me. Then the light leaves his eyes and he goes limp.
Distantly, I’m aware that my phone is ringing. I take it out of my pocket and see that it’s Vinicius. “What’s happening? Where are Chiara and the others?”
Vinicius gives a weak laugh. “I’m still on the freeway. The neighbors noticed the fire as soon as it started and called it in. I’ve just been talking to Chiara. She’s fine. The baby is fine. They’re all fine. The firefighters got them out of the basement.”
I close my eyes in sheer relief. Oh, thank fucking Christ.
“Here’s the kicker,” Vinicius adds. “Do you know who the neighbor is that called 911?”
“Of course I don’t. Who is it?”
“Christian Galloway.”
The man we suspected of being the Black Orchid Killer. Coldlake’s running corpse-fucker joke. “You’re fucking kidding me. Christian ‘corpse-fucker’ Galloway for mayor.”
“He gets my vote.”
I can’t help myself. I laugh, feeling like a maniac with this knife in my hand but too happy to care. “De Luca’s dead. I just killed him. I’ve got to go and I don’t know, sort myself out? I’m covered in blood.”
Vinicius breathes in sharply. “He’s dead? He’s really dead?”
I stare at all the blood covering me, the walls, the carpet. De Luca’s thin chest with the word KILLER scored across it. “He’s so fucking dead. Go get our girl, okay?”
I hear the determination in Vinicius’ voice. “On my way.”
I hang up and take myself into the kitchen and wash the worst of the blood from my face and hands. I could take De Luca’s body with me, wrapped in a rug. I could burn the house to the ground to cover up the evidence, but I think of all those other brothers, sisters, and parents of young women who this bastard killed. I killed him for all of them. They should get closure too.
I wipe my fingerprints from everything I’ve touched, take the knife and walk out of the house.
It doesn’t feel right to go back to the compound and face Nicole and her mother wearing the remnants of De Luca’s blood. It doesn’t feel right to go home, either. Instead, I find myself driving into the heart of Coldlake and past all the casinos I own. I keep driving to a hotel with a casino that I don’t own, one with a beautiful marble fountain out front. The place I took Chiara after our first date and she was too tipsy and grief-stricken to deliver back to her father.
The last place I saw Ophelia alive.
The last place I saw my sister smile.
I park and head over to the fountain. It’s dark now, but some people give my bloodstained shirt strange looks as the colored lights wash over me. The water sprays high in the air in a beautiful display.
He’s gone Ophelia, and he’ll never hurt anyone else ever again.
I close my eyes as bittersweet relief washes over me. I’ve carried my sister’s ghost with me since the day I discovered she was dead. She’s always been with me. My love for her. My grief. My rage. All the pain ebbs out of me until there’s just her left. Just Ophelia, whole and unharmed.
And she’s smiling at me.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Lorenzo has left a message for me in the group chat. Where are you Salvatore?
At the Maxim, I type.
His reply comes through a moment later. Wait there.
He doesn’t need to tell me that. I’m not going anywhere. I sit and watch the lights and listen to the water. I think I could sit here forever.
Sometime later, a car door slams and a female voice I know and love calls my name. Chiara rushes into my arms, a warm, soft bundle with a protruding belly. I hold her tight as she exclaims at the blood all over me.
Lorenzo glares at me over her shoulder. “You fucking idiot, sitting around here covered in bloodstains.”
I give him a lazy grin, and a moment later, he smiles, too. His voice is rough with smoke and emotion as he says, “Good job, Salvatore.”
Cassius is covered in soot but his dark eyes are glittering. “You did us all proud.”