Page 11 of Cara

“Dante’s got a message,” Dario whispers for only my ears, bending down to clean his blade before Arturo can notice he isn’t behind him. “The reckoning has come.”

He grabs his tools, following his boss, the powerful man who has held his position for decades, into the daylight.

I drop my head back onto the cement, exhaling shakily.

The reckoning has come.

“Open your eyes!”

I can’t make out the sound that brings me to consciousness. It’s brutal, and grating, and it revolves, returning every couple of seconds or so.

Someone is grabbing my arms, rattling my shoulders. The painful sound alters as my eyes are pulled open, wincing at the sunlight.

“Fuck! Look at me, Xavier!”

The calm darkness is more inviting than this. My eyes close again… until that noise returns, amplified… and I realize that it’s comingfromme. That ghastly sound is coming out of my mouth without restraint. That brings me around enough to look into Dante’s eyes.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this terrified.

“Keep your eyes open, man!” My body flinches as Dario grabs hold of my sides while Dante unravels the ropes tied around my wrists. Those ropes have extended my arms above my head, chained to a pipe for God knows how long. Long enough that I can’t feel any part of my body.

My head drops. Beneath my mangled feet is blood, more than I expect to see.

“These knots are too damn tight,” Dante growls desperately. “Grab my knife. For fucks sake, keep his head up. Keep him awake!”

A hand guides my face up roughly.

“How the hell did it get this far?”

Dario slaps my face to the side, but my eyes still droop. “Xwas spouting some stronzate about the bloodline dying with him. Arturo lost it.”

“And youdidit? You didthisto him?”

“What did you expect me to do? Blow the whole operation and go against the boss? He said to continue, so I did.”

With one scathing look, Dante makes it known he hates this man, that he wants to beat him bloody. “We’ll be lucky if he makes it out of this room, Dario. Lucky!”

Accompanied by a grating groan of pain, I find my voice. It’s barely there. “He had no choice.”

Dante hisses at me in fury, slicing through the cord. “You justhadto open your fucking mouth, didn’t you?”

Dario’s hand lands on Dante’s arm, his voice lowering until he thinks I can’t hear him. Maybe it’s my blugeoned eardrums or the haze of the moment, but the words he utters, words that make my stomach shrink, are amplified as if he werescreamingthem in my face. “Arturo said what they did to her. He said there were recordings of them… you know… taking her?—”

Dante didn’t know. I never told him what they did to my wife—one of his closest friends. Only Bo saw her off. Even then, he could only confirm that she’d been beaten.

Somehow, I muster the strength to raise my head. Dante’s hands have stopped unraveling the rope. He looks from Dario to me, finally understanding why I would endure this, why I would orchestrate the demise of my own family.

I'm split open from the inside out—and from the outside in. There isn’t one part of me without a gaping wound.

Some can be seen—others cling to my insides, to parts of me that feel impossible to suppress.

“Maybe we should push this,” Dante says. “Another day would give us time?—”

“It has to be today.” Dario catches my arm as Dante gets it freed, starting on the other side. “If Xavier doesn’t walk out ofthis place on his goddamn feet, every man outside is going to flock to Arturo’s side to escape his wrath. The only reason anyone is willing to turn is to make sure Arturo’s reign ends.”

My teeth grind as I plant my feet on the ground. Pain is quickly resurfacing, contractions returning to my arm as the blood that was cut off seeps back through me. “Is everything organized? Did Zeke plant it?”

“Yes. Arturo’s on his way to the yacht club now. They’ll head for open water by noon. Your father will be seen casting off—until Bo gets him alone. By three, the vessel will be up in flames, your father presumed dead.”