I ran like a madwoman up the stairs, snarling and climbing, punching through the door and clawing at the smooth floor when I was finally through. I ran past the two goons who looked up with concern when they saw me coming. They wouldn't pursue unless Uncle Gioulio told them to.
I headed straight for the guest room and turned the locks. Part of me wanted to get a driver and return to my condo, but I was just as much a prisoner there as I was here. I wouldn't be away from his evil influence until I was out of the city.
Even then, I wondered if I'd ever be free. The deafening beat in my head drummed me to sleep, echoing with the last shot he fired into me, showing me his true face.
Coward. Coward. Coward!
I hated him so much. But in the darkness, I hated Anton even more. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw myself bracing for his sickening touch. Sex brought us close, gave me an opportunity to use him the same way he'd used me.
The weapon I dreamed about was always different. Sometimes it was a handgun, which I picked up, pressed to his rock hard chest, and fired. Other times, it my uncle's switchblade, and I slid it across the Russian's throat when he tried to give me one of those heart stopping kisses.
Up until then, I'd never truly wanted to kill a human being with such gruesome need. Guess it ran in the blood.
When I woke up, something like a bad hangover fogged my brain, I told myself I'd never let my uncle call me a coward again. He'd never get to speak for my poor dead parents either.
He'd get his blood war, his vengance, and then he'd never get anything from me again. The bastard was right – there was no leaving and getting on with my life until I knew the men who'd used me and betrayed me were destroyed.
I was going to kill Anton Ivankov, and both his psycho brothers too, if luck was kind.
His goons gave me the evil eye the next day. Still, they didn't stop me from knocking at the door to his study.
Uncle Gioulio's kinder eyes met me as soon as he opened the door. Overnight, his Hyde retreated back into his inner Jekyll, and now he was playing the kindly old uncle again.
“Brina, listen, I've got to apologize for last –“
“No need. I'm not here for your sympathy.” I pushed my way past him, taking a seat in the big leather chair across from his desk.
“I meant everything I said yesterday evening. I'm going to take my inheritance and leave this city. As uncle and niece, we're done. We're not family anymore.”
Pain throbbed in my heart just to say it, but only for an instant. What little respect and love I had left for my uncle died last night. But you can't stop loving anyone completely all at once – unless you start hating them instead.
And right now, that's all that kept me moving.
Uncle Gioulio's face dropped to the ground as he sat. “What is it you want? You're facing me for a reason.”
“Before I leave and try to forget about all this, I want to do right by this family, the ones who're gone. You're right. This isn't about you and I. This is about mama and papa. I want them avenged just as badly as you do.”
We locked eyes. He never smiled, but I could see the satisfaction glowing in his face, a beacon in the darkness.
Uncle Gioulio stood, walked over to his liquor cabinet. Seriously? A celebratory drink this early was way too weird for my taste.
I was about to tell him to hold it right there while he was pushing bottles aside. Then he stopped, grabbed a small glass flask filled with some clear fluid, vodka or gin, and what looked like a silver needle inside, and walked back to me.
“This is the best way to kill them. The Ivankovs won't be able to resist a drink if they think you've got me by the balls.” He pushed it into my outstretched hands.
The glass was cool. The transparent stuff inside it sloshed around like any other vodka I'd seen, clear and unassuming.
“One little drop of that and they won't know what hit 'em. It's a kinder, swifter death than the bastards ever gave Gio and Allison. It'll do the job just the same.”
My fingers tightened around it, full of evil wonder. I carefully pushed it into my purse, making sure it found a safe spot.
“You'll always be a Ligiotti, niece. You can hate me until your last breath, and I won't blame you, but you know blood and heartache, just as I do. Take it. Slip it to them carefully. Cut the chains that'll try to hold you here forever. Avenge them the way I couldn't.”
I couldn't stop him from embracing me one more time. There wasn't a hint of warmth and I almost shivered in his arms. When I pulled away, Uncle Gioulio was still looking at me with those sad, knowing eyes, a thousand thanks whirling in his dark pupils.
We'd never be family again in the proper sense, but we had ourselves an understanding.
I spent another twenty minutes with him and his guys, talking about the logistics of how I'd get back to the Ivankov's estate without drawing suspicion. He gave me a tattered white coat – the same rumpled one that belonged to mama the night she was struck down – and I was on my way.