Page 73 of Wicked Throne

Had I ever really loved this psychopath?

“Talia…what have you been doing? What are you doing here?”

She stood then and huffed. “Aren’t you excited to see me?”

“Not in the slightest…this shit has to stop. The families…”

She huffed again and reached for the wine glass. “The families? Fuck the families, Thierry. I took their fucking heads. The Dons are no more…including your father.”

She reached forward and pulled up the lid on the platter. My father’s face greeted me. Maggots were already starting to stir in his flesh. The flesh itself was starting to turn black. The smell had been coming from here...

I couldn’t hold it and began to retch.

Talia’s maniacal laughter began to fill my ears and then something hit me from behind. I lost consciousness and when I came through, the smell of smoke, and gasoline, and fire greeted me. It filled my nostrils, making me feel like I was suffocating.

The heat was insane and I was sweating.

Trying to move my arms I found myself tied to the chair. Smoke was everywhere in the dining room. Looking all around, I found the man in sunglasses standing by the door.

“It’s a pity that all of this had to end this way, Thierry,” he said my name as if we knew each other.

My head felt like someone had taken an ax to it. Realization hit me that I didn’t see Talia.

“Let me talk to, Talia,” I said. “We can work something out.”

“That’s going to be kind of hard to do as she’s dead,” the man said again and pulled the glasses from his face. “Don’t recognize me, do you?”

The smoke was billowing in heavy now. The smell of gasoline hit my nose. My eyes were beginning to water, and I was straining against my restraints.

“Sorry, I don’t,” I muttered. “Must be the smoke in my eyes.”

“You always were funny when you wanted to be. Well…now that Talia’s done me the favor of getting rid of everyone…the families will be looking to me to lead them and get back what was taken from them. I’ll be telling that pretty little black wife of yours hello, real soon, Thierry.”

“Fuck you!” I spat.

The flames were beginning to lick closer. The mysterious man gave a smile and walked out of the doors to the dining room. I heard the doors being closed and locked from the outside.

Time was clearly running out for me. The flames were starting to dance higher and higher but they hadn’t touched the curtain just yet. If I could get myself free, I could escape through the window.

My eyes found a knife on the table. Maneuvering my feet that they hadn’t bothered to bind, I slid the tablecloth until the knife tipped to the floor.

I rocked and rocked the chair until I landed on my side with a thud. Immediately, pain flooded my senses; it lanced through my right shoulder and radiated up my back. My brain felt as though someone was rattling it, but I pushed the thoughts away and began to scoot to the knife.

My fingers fumbled and fumbled…

Water was pooling from my eyes at this point.

There was no way in hell I was going to die in my childhood home.

I was going to survive.

And I was going to make it back to Diamond.

And Enzo.

My family.

The knife slipped out of my fingers and I let out a frustrated yell. I would not give up. Death would not fucking claim me.