“Amelia,” my father suddenly states my name, jolting me from my trance and quietening Tony. “You can do the honors.”
“Me?” I gasp, looking at him as if there’s another Amelia miraculously joining us. I’m still in shock that men were conspiring such plans against me. The fear it’s risen shows again how wanted we are by outside forces far more dangerous than the police. “Why me?”
“I want to see if Alberto was right about you in Italy. I want to see if you have gotten better.” My father presents the knife to me. “C’mon, Amelia, I want to see what the old country made of you. I want to see if keeping you here was really worth it. I want everyone to see that you truly are a force to be reckoned with.”
I know the moment I take a step forward that people’s estimation of me has lowered, but what else am I to do? I am here to serve a role now. I am no longer here to be protected or worshipped. I am here, solely, to serve a purpose and do it well and that hasn’t been really broached until this moment. With each step, the hard, broken girl who came home comes back to life, building impenetrable walls around her and making sure that she is no longer deserving of a savior.
I decide to brutalize any hope that could've had a hope in hell – I take that blade in my hand and I roll it around in my palm. It's a dead weight, and as I look, the light glistens from the blade, telling me to do its job. I look at Tony, see that familiar look of expectant fear, and I take a step forward.
I know that this will solidify my place in the family a little more, it will destroy the faith people have in me, and it will change people’s opinion of me. As much as it breaks me to think, if I do this, then Zane will hopefully be so repulsed by my actions that he won’t ever want me back in his bed. I just have to make sure the execution is done correctly.
Approaching Tony, I feel the weight of all eyes on me, but I mold myself into a sensual beast – the one that appeased my uncle’s killer instincts and won me a horde of fans within the Dio Lavoro’s Italian base. I put my index finger to his chin and motion enough for him to stand. Once at full height, he looks down at me, and I can see that he's wondering if this is his retribution.
"You've been a silly man, Tony," I say lightly as my hand grazes along his face, cupping the back of his jaw, my fingers nestling into his hair. “Did you really think you’d get away with it all?” I ask, my words stilted with gruffness and a harsh manner. “Did you think I’d allow a man like you to be a master manipulator and make me that easy you’d have an opportunity?”
“I don’t know,” he whispers, deprecatingly becoming a hollow man.
“Well, you must have,” I state sardonically, my eyes still caught on him, my body pressing closer to him. “You obviously thought you’d get this close to me. You clearly thought that you’d feel my body against yours, my breath against your skin, and my will all yours. You were a silly man to think I’d ever let you near me.”
“I know,” Tony agrees solemnly. “You don’t have to do this, though.”
“I don’t?” I query, my hand grazing down his face. "So, do you think you deserve the punishment my father’s said or do you think you deserve a second chance?"
"There are no second chances in the Dio Lavoro, Amelia. W-We're all meant to know that."
"So, you don't want a second chance?" I ask, my hand caressing the side of his face, keeping myself calm and soft toward him. "Because we all want that one second chance. We all want that chance to get total forgiveness," I speak, keeping his attention on me. "I'm just sorry you had to be mine."
My words fall with a sickly sweet malice, and as I end the sentence, I ram the knife into Tony's abdomen, feeling the blood pulsate warmly onto my hand. Slowly, I withdraw the blade only to move my hand down his head to rest on his shoulder. When my hand stills, I pull him onto my blade before pushing him away only to pierce the blade into a third part of his stomach. On the fourth stab, Tony starts to gurgle, and I know I’ve severely damaged him internally. I hope with the fifth it will finish him off, so I angle it up slightly, and as I pull the knife away, I allow him to drop to the floor. There’s a moment of silence before clapping comes from behind me and I can feel myself starting to shake under the intensity of what I just did.
“Someone clean that up,” I ground out, sickened by the feel of blood on my hands once again. I ignore everything around me, it’s as if it’s phasing out as I begin to truly realize what I’ve just done – it’s not about the kill, but about who saw it.