Page 34 of Die for You (Kiss or Kill #2)

“Bria, please, don’t let it end this way.”

“You’re the one who made that choice! And now, deal with the consequences.”

I’m trying to ensure Lenny is okay, but Gianna is punching me in the back. I can’t fight her off because my arm doesn’t work, and putting pressure on my left foot is excruciating.

However, I manage to turn and grab Gianna’s broken wrist, slamming it onto the altar.

She howls in agony.

I grip her hair, and as the fire is burning on the altar cloth, I rub her face into it.

Her muffled screams are music to my ears.

The product she has in her hair instantly sets alight.

Her scalp is on fire. I watch for a few seconds before dragging her toward the stoup and dunking her face into the holy water.

Her hair sizzles as the fire extinguishes.

I’m surprised she didn’t implode when drenched with the holy water like in the movies when it touches something unholy.

I yank her back out and smack her cheek as her eyes flutter. “Wakey, wakey. I’m not done with you yet.”

Death is too easy for Gianna. I intend to make her suffer and tarnish her name and reputation. Only then will I end her miserable life.

“Bria, no!”

I turn and see Bria break free and aim the gun at Gianna and me. I’m about to duck behind a pew, but the gun leisurely tumbles from Bria’s hand, crashing to the floor.

It all happens in slow motion.

She looks at me and then down at the knife embedded into her heart, the knife Lenny threw to save my life.

“Looks like you made your choice.” Those are Bria’s last words as she collapses with a thud.

Lenny stands still, eyes wide open, stunned that he killed his wife.

Gianna wheezes, her lungs filled with smoke, but beneath her gasping for air, she cackles—cruelly.

“What’s so funny?” I scream inches from her face.

Her face is burned, bloody, and swollen. Yet she’s still in the belief that she’s won.

“I…win,” she manages to push out, her breaths labored.

“Wrong, you sick fuck. We all fucking lose.”

I punch her in the face, and as she drops to the floor, I reach down and snag my fingers through her hair. Lenny stands over Bria, watching for any signs of life, but a knife to the heart usually means one thing.

Ironic, it seems, because I bet that’s how Bria felt about Lenny’s betrayal—metaphorically.

But now, it’s literal as well.

I leave Lenny to grieve as I begin a slow hobble down the aisle, dragging Gianna by the hair. She has nothing left and lays still, groaning and mumbling gibberish under her breath.

I shoulder open the chapel door and limp down the corridor with Gianna trailing me. Every part of me hurts, but funnily enough, the pain spurs me on.

This place has caused me nothing but anguish, but it’s time to end that once and for all. It takes me a while, but when I turn the corner and am greeted with terrified screams, it makes everything worth it.

People literally run away from me, screeching in horror. A man throws up in his wife’s cocktail. And a woman faints, Scarlett O’Hara style.

What a bunch of crybabies.

The crowd parts, and I feel like Moses parting the Red Sea. Seems fitting, seeing as I am slathered in red—my blood as well as Gianna’s.

I drag Gianna’s body up the stairs to the stage, and thankfully, the sisters have ushered the children back to their rooms. I toss her into a chair and arrange it at the front of the stage for all to see. She can’t keep herself up and slouches.

She’s barely recognizable.

I tap the microphone, and it echoes over the speakers. “What a glorious affair this is,” I declare, sweeping my arms out wide.

The pain in my shoulder is incapacitating, but I persevere.

“This here is your host, Gianna Ricci. And as none of you know because she’s a gutless woman, she is my mother.”

The crowd is unsure if this is halftime entertainment. Or perhaps one of those art house performances that make no sense. So they dare not make a sound.

“I am Valentina Ricci, and Saint Maria’s Orphanage was my home until Gianna “saved me.” But she only adopted me, her own daughter, to shape me into the person you see today.

“So thanks… Mother.”

The term of endearment is anything but.

Saliva dribbles from Gianna’s chin as her head droops to her chest.

“Gianna is a drug dealer, she kidnapped her own granddaughter and used her as bait…and she’s a murderer.

Tonight’s ploy was to raise money not for the orphanage, but for herself.

But I suspect most of you knew that. I also suspect that most of you are liars, con men, and just all round fucking horrible people.

“The reason I know that is because no one has called the police. In a society where we’re glued to technology, no one is posting a live feed on their socials for the world to see, and the reason for all this is because you don’t want your peers knowing who you really are.”

And this is why I know I won’t suffer any backlash for this very public execution.

No one wants their name associated with tonight and the scandal that will follow. But like curious drivers who can’t help but look when passing an accident, these perverts can’t look away.

“So hear me now, forget this orphanage exists. Not a single child will be going home with any of you. You will donate, however, and your generosity is greatly appreciated. So please, dig deep.”

My eyes flicker as unconsciousness tackles me. But I push past it.

“You will not forget me…because I won’t forget you.” I look closely at the faces in the crowd, and when my gaze lands on the only one who matters, I instantly feel better.

Lenny walks toward the stage, and I know it’s finally over.

He climbs the steps, and in his palm, he holds the knife he killed Bria with. He offers it to me.

“My entire life, I always wondered what was wrong with me, and now, I see that…nothing is. I’ll see you in hell, Mommy dearest.”

Gianna smirks as I slash the knife across her throat. She doesn’t make a sound. It doesn’t surprise me. Even in death, she refuses to surrender.

Her blood gushes out, coating my face and chest. I stab the blade into the incision and begin severing through tendons and tissue as I cut off her head.

This elicits hysteria, and the crowd runs from the ballroom, afraid they’re next.

Once the cut is deep enough, I twist and tear the head from her shoulders. Her body, which is leaning to the left, slides to the floor with a squelch.

With her head in my hand, I limp from the stage and through the crowd.

The remaining guests can’t look away, but they don’t make eye contact with me either. They know better—a new Mafia queen is in town.

Lenny walks beside me as we head back to the chapel. I don’t know why, but this place grants me solace.

We enter, and I see Lenny has placed Bria on a pew. He’s also put out the fire. I place Gianna’s head on the altar. The macabre scene is one I commit to memory because the blood, the power—it’s ours.

And just like always, the bloodlust claws at my skin, awakening the hunger that demands to be fed.

Lenny grabs me by the throat and arches my neck backward. He stares me deep in the eyes as he leans down and licks the blood from my face. Like a cat licking away the cream. To most, this act is revolting, but to me, it’s carnal and animalistic.

He sweeps his tongue along my cheek before skimming it across my trembling lips. He’s being gentle as I am severely wounded, but my body has suddenly forgotten that I am shot and beaten, as it wants to be manhandled.

“Fuck me,” I demand against his lips. “And fuck me hard.”

Lenny smirks, cupping my throat harder. “Since when do I take orders?”

“Since you’re going to fuck me over the altar while Mommy watches.”

He hums low before smashing his lips over mine.

This isn’t a kiss filled with love.

It’s a kiss where we want to eat the other alive.

He tears at my mouth.

I scratch at his face.

He rips off my already ruined dress.

I do the same to his shirt.

He spins me, giving me what I want as he throws me over the altar and tears off my underwear. He reaches down and hisses when he feels I’m already wet. Within seconds, his trousers hit the floor, and his cock plunges deep inside my pussy.

I grip the altar as Lenny fucks me hard. He holds my waist, helping to keep me standing as I relish his brutal strokes. He’s ruthless, and each time he thrusts into me, I grasp the altar as he propels me up the marble.

The hard surface cools down my heated flesh. I take what Lenny gives as he drives into me, before pulling all the way out. He teases my outer lips with his cock, then thrusts back into me.

Leaning down, mid-thrust, he whispers into my ear in Italian, “My girl. Always and forever.”

“Yes,” I moan. “Don’t stop. Don’t you ever stop.”

He turns my cheek as he fucks me, and we both take in the sight of Gianna’s head, watching us. It’s sick and twisted, but it’s the final fuck you.

Her smirk will forever be frozen in time.

Lenny groans, swearing in Italian.

I bounce back on his cock, but he presses me between the shoulder blades, making sure to avoid the gunshot wound as he rides me like I am his own personal toy.

This is possession and ownership.

This is obsessive love.

He is meant for me.

And I am meant for him.

Two broken pieces that make a beautiful mess.

“Ti amo.”

My eyes are still locked with Gianna’s as I come loudly, screaming, “I love you too!”

I see stars behind my eyes, and Lenny comes with a sated moan, spilling his seed into me. He collapses onto my back, but holds his weight, not wanting to hurt me. And here, we lay, breathless and spent, slathered in our enemy’s blood.

What’s next for us?

Well, for the first time in our lives…our life is ours.