Page 150 of The Colour of Revenge

You Will All Pay For Your Sins In Hell

Hypothetical Question: If you had to choose one person to haunt for the rest of your existence, who would it be, and how would you make sure they never find peace?

Nate

Thetwoofusmove with ruthless precision, our blades cutting through flesh and tearing at skin, each strike designed to make them feel a fraction of the agony Carina has suffered.

The air fills with the sickening sound of tearing muscle, the coppery scent of blood coating the room. I can see the fear in their eyes, but it’s nothing compared to what we’ve endured.

They don’t deserve clean deaths.

Their fear is not enough.

The pain we inflict is relentless, a reminder that nothing they experience can compare to the torment Carina has been through. We leave behind mutilated flesh, shredded and unrecognisable, until they beg for mercy they won’t receive.

Only when the room is drenched in their blood do we finally pause, inhaling the metallic tang in the air. We stand amidst the wreckage, taking in the devastation. This—this is more than revenge. It’s retribution. It’s punishment. This is justice, delivered in its most brutal form. The silence that follows is thick with satisfaction, the echo of their screams still ringing in our ears as we savour the raw, undeniable truth of our actions.

I meet Carina’s gaze.

Her chest rises and falls rapidly, but there’s something fierce in her eyes. Something unbroken.

She looks—free.

I reach for her, hands sliding to her waist, and crush my mouth to hers.

The kiss is desperate. Urgent. Raw.

A sharp throat-clearing breaks the moment.

Kai.

We break apart, my head snapping toward him.

“All clear. The place is empty.”

Enzo flashes a feral grin. “Now it is.”That man is scary as fuck sometimes.

I exhale and the weight lifts from my chest.

It’s over.

“Time to finish this, Princess.”

Our three victims are still breathing, though it’s ragged and weak. Their heads hang forward, the blood already pooling beneath them.

Carina murmurs something in Italian, her voice dark and final.“Pagherete all'inferno per i vostri peccati16.”

She slashes.

One throat.

Then another.

The last body jerks, a choked sound escaping—then silence.

The crimson splashes her skin and clothes and paints the floor violently.

I glance at her, curiosity tugging.