Page 148 of Thorns of Death

ISLA

My pajamas were soaked in blood, stuck to my skin. It was mostly dry, but each movement still caused immeasurable pain.

I felt dizzy. I hadn’t eaten anything in days. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a drop of water. My lips were chapped. Every inch of me ached. My mind drifted more than once, unable to cope anymore.

Not with the videos of my brother executing my mother. Not with my husband shoving his dead brother into the car and setting it on fire. Thankfully, Donatella never realized it was the older brother, the real Enrico Marchetti, who was burned to ash. But Sofia knew. She didn’t explicitly say it, but she definitely knew it.

“Your sister-in-law interfered with my plans,” Sofia deadpanned in a cold voice. “Now you’ll pay for it.”

I had to keep them talking. I knew my husband and brother would come for me. I just had to hang on a bit longer.

“How did Enrico miss the connection between you and Giulio?” I asked Donatella. If I knew my husband, he would have been very thorough researching his bodyguard.

She cackled. “Giulio is four times removed from an illegitimate daughter from one of my great-great-great-uncles. The only reason he survived is because nobody knew about his mother.” She glared at me. “The Marchetti family all but ended our bloodline,” she snarled.

“And yet, here you are,” I remarked dryly, tasting blood on my tongue. “Unfortunately.”

“We’re like weeds. Strong and indestructible.” The comparison was lousy. All you needed was some weed killer.

“I’ll be sure to get some Roundup,” I muttered under my breath, feeling lightheaded.

The look in her eyes told me she didn’t know what that was, but I was too busy holding on to consciousness. But then someone’s phone buzzed, and the next moment, Sofia muttered something to her partner and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Donatella demanded to know, her voice high-pitched. It sounded to me like she’d grown dependent on the woman.Pathetic.

“Just outside,” Sofia answered without looking back. “Handle her.”

And she was gone, her heels clicking against the marble.Click. Click. Click.

“I n-need to use the bathroom,” I rasped. They’d let me use a bucket a few times, but I doubted I’d be allowed now. I could tell Donatella was skittish here by herself.

“Piss yourself.”

That fucking bitch. I wanted to lunge at her and claw her eyeballs out of her skull. “I—I have to take a shit.”

She let out a string of curses in Italian, then walked over to the table and snatched the keys to my chains. She unlocked them and they fell onto the concrete with a rattle I felt in my teeth.

“Giulio, take her to the bathroom. She stinks like a pig.”

I gritted my teeth, swallowing the words I wanted to spit out. Giulio yanked me off the seat and I heard a pop in my shoulder. Pain shot through me, darkening my vision until I thought I’d pass out.

He dragged me into the bare, dirty bathroom and shoved me inside. “Two minutes.”

My knees hit the concrete floor, and I racked my brain trying to think of a plan. I didn’t have to use the bathroom, obviously. Idiots would have known that, since I hadn’t been fed anything in days.

My gaze traveled over the concrete bathroom, looking for anything I could use as a weapon. Anything I could use to fight back. I couldn’t let them shackle me again.

I rose to my feet, my legs quivering. I felt weak, exhausted, and knew there wasn’t much more my body could take. I gripped the yellowish counter as I pulled myself up.

Desperately, I searched through the items. Soap. Toilet paper. Broken glass.

“Broken glass,” I whispered soundlessly.

I snatched it, gripping it in my palm and feeling warm liquid already beginning to drip. I ignored the pain as I made my way to the door on wobbly legs; my bare feet bloodied and silent against the concrete floor. The bathroom door was left cracked open, and I peeked through. Giulio and Donatella were replaying the video of me being tortured and laughing. Fucking laughing.

Rage had me seeing red, strengthening my resolve.

I lunged, the tip of the broken glass piercing through Donatella’s eyeball. I tackled her onto the floor, stabbing her over and over again. Giulio tried to yank me away from her, but it was too late. I’d taken both of her eyes. Her blood soaked my palms as her howls echoed. Her face was unrecognizable, a pulpy mess where her eyes once were. The adrenaline pumping through my veins was what spurred my attack. After hours, weeks, and days of her stalking and tormenting me, relief ejected from me like a geyser.