Page 14

Drowned in Blood.

FOURTEEN YEARS EARLIER

I t’s already been six months since I washed up on this island, and the more I wanted to head back to the mainland, the quicker I realised I couldn’t. I have no allies, no friends, and the one person I have back in Sicily cannot ever be tainted by this world. I would never forgive myself for it. Dante Senior offered me a place to stay, but more than that, he opened up his home to me, fed me, and gave me a bed to sleep on. I had my doubts about him the moment I woke with the blinding pain in my side, reminding me I was alone in this world, but as I got to know him, my thoughts began to change.

“Remember, if you need anything, you call me.” Dante tightens his hold on my shoulder and places a gun in my hand. The sun sets beneath the horizon as the steady hum of the ferry’s engine drums in the air.

Nodding, I step onto the ferry, the waves crashing against the hull as the horn sounds, pulling me away from the island. I don’t know what to expect once I get back to the mainland, but I know it’s not going to be in my favour.

I rub my thumb on the handle of the gun and swallow, my palms now slick with sweat. I barely made it out alive, and if I want to continue to live, I must be smart. The ride to the mainland is only a couple of hours, and I lose myself in my thoughts as the ferry rocks me gently back and forth. When I glance over the rails, I spot the lights of the port in the distance. I don’t know what’s waiting for me, but I’m ready.

Once we’re secured to the port, I stand, working up the courage to face my past.

“ Grazie , Giuseppe. ”

The darkness of the port at this time of day reminds me of the last time I was here, and I do my best to push it from my mind as I make my way back to the shop. It’s not far from here, and it’s one of the reasons I didn’t mind not having much, because as a boy, I got to sit by the port, watching the sailors and the sea.

As I step into the street, my blood runs cold at the sight before me. The place I was raised is now burnt to the ground. The only pieces left behind are ashes in the wind or stuck between the crevices of the earth.

Figlio di puttana!

My muscles fire as I step through the half wall, now barely standing. “Demetrio!” My voice strains as I yell, bile rising up my throat when there’s no answer.

He has to be here…

“Demetrio!” I try again, taking the rickety stairs two at a time.

“Please be here,” I whisper as a silent plea, more to myself, as I scan the place I once called home. I burst through the bedroom door and cover my mouth with the crook of my arm.

No.

The one person I trusted most is on his bed, clutching something to his chest. The only thing left of him now is bones and teeth. Tears fight their way through, and one breaks, making its way down my cheek at the sight of his body. Taking a step forward, I pry the knife from his hands and walk out, coughing as my knees hit the floor of the kitchen.

I’m so sorry.

So fucking sorry.

I never meant for any of this to happen.

My shoulders slump, the tears flowing freely now as I come to terms with the fact that I must live without him. The person who raised me, cared for me when I was sick, with the little that he had. It’s only when my vision clears that I notice what’s surrounding me, and red-hot rage fires within as I step to my feet and slam my fist through the glass cabinet.

Hundreds of Enzo’s calling cards are scattered throughout the space.

A warning.

Fuck him.

He’s about to find out what blood tastes like and I’m going to drown him in it.