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Castigo by Leigh Kenzie
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Teaser Graphics are done through River Designs.
Vendetta, Book 8
Emilio
I may kneel, but I’ll stand as well.
The fight to live and to claim what’s ours will not be left undone. There may not be many rules in this life, but break them and I’ll be an avenging angel on my Master’s arm. This Family is mine, forever.
What happens when vengeance is all that’s left?
This is a continuous series. The first seven books must be read prior to this one. This is the final book of the series.
Trigger warnings: Contains graphic violence and other material that may be distressing. It is intended for a mature audience of 18+ Please see inside for more warnings.
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(Allesandro’s POV):
Walking in, I’m surprised to note the man isn’t cowering. He’s tied down in the chair but appears perfectly relaxed. Most are squirming, panicking, or hell, sitting ramrod straight in defiance. I move in front of the man, and he meets my icy stare steadily, merely tipping his head in response. If it weren’t for the ropes binding him, I’d think he was sitting down for a cup of coffee.
“I’m surprised you’re so calm.”
The man attempts a shrug, despite the ropes cutting into him. “It’s a violent life. A bullet was always the most likely way to go out.”
“You think I’d let a bullet take you out?” I grab another chair, setting it in front of him. I cross my legs, setting my hands on my lap. “I think you underestimate how far you fucked up. You messed with the wrong family. Not to mention you took out an unarmed and innocent woman. You don’t get to walk out of this life with a bullet.”
“Eh. So, we get to have some foreplay first. I’m good.” There’s a hint of a smirk on his face, and it baffles me.
There’s nothing special about his looks. It must have been partially why he was chosen. Plain brown eyes, a boring haircut, not too heavy, not too skinny. Just…plain. Hell, trying to pick him up from a lineup must be insane. It’s likely why he’s skated through life, given his nonchalant air. This must not be his first brush with outside society’s rules. Yet he’s nobody I recognize. He’s not from my Family, nor any of the Irish I know. Where the fuck did Jax find him?
The silence stretches on, but it’s not uncomfortable really. At least for me. His accommodations aren’t nearly that kind. Then again, the humor in his eyes makes it clear he’s not nearly as pained as he should be. We’ll see if that doesn’t change soon enough.
With a bang, the door slams open and my Emilio stalks in, fury staining his face red. His green eyes are narrowed to slits, and while he gives me a nod of acknowledgment, he doesn’t stop until he’s standing between me and the fucker who hurt his friend’s mom.
The squeak of wheels drags my attention over to the door, and I raise my eyebrow in surprise when Marcus wheels Benjamin into the room. He’s painfully pale, bandaged, and sitting uncomfortably, even though it appears one of the doctors must have tried to use some type of cushion on the wheelchair. I didn’t see the branding, but I heard Dr. Ranlen’s cursing. I’m thrown from my observation when a high-pitched scream fills the room. Sighing, I watch Emilio snap two of the man’s fingers without saying a damn word.
“Emilio, we need information.” I try to keep the frustration out of my voice, understanding his need for vengeance. He must realize that satisfaction must be delayed at times. Perhaps edging would be a useful lesson?
“Sorry, Master,” Emilio responds begrudgingly, his entire body still vibrating with the need to punish. Blowing out a breath, he addresses the man instead. “So, you know how this goes. Talk or hurt. A lot. Because you went after my best friend’s mom. If you don’t talk, I’ll continue to give you an incentive until you do.”
The man snorts, even while he pants through the pain. “I have to say, you’re far feistier than I was told.”
“Well, since you know who I am, let’s start with introductions. Who are you?” Emilio grabs a knife from the table next to him, bringing it to rest on one of the man’s unbroken fingers.
“Why should I tell you? You’re going to kill me anyway. Perhaps I’d like to go out as a cliffhanger for you. It’s only fair to make that type of impact once in my life.”
Without a word, Emilio brings the knife down, neatly severing a finger. The resulting screech is music to my ears. This is the right way to do torture. Emilio barely gives the man time to breathe before he places the knife on the next finger, pressing down slightly.
“Fuck!” The man struggles against the ropes but can’t go anywhere. I chuckle darkly.
“Perhaps you’d like to reevaluate your statement? Give me a name. That can’t be too hard for you.” Emilio presses down slightly harder with the knife, drawing a bead of blood.
“Fuck. Fine. Matt. My name is Matt.” Emilio doesn’t take the knife away but does relent on the pressure. Matt seems to understand, and he spits out his full name. “Matt Dawson, damn it.”
“You’re not one of ours. Nor an Irish. Who the fuck do you belong to?” I cut in.
Huffing, Matt shrugs through the pain, a grimace gracing his face. “I’m an independent contractor. You all think the rest of us don’t exist. From what I hear, Jax knows better.”
Grumbling at Jax’s name, Emilio quickly cauterizes Matt’s wound. It’s quick and dirty—and fucking painful. The smile on Caro’s face says that’s exactly what he wants. I can’t disagree.
“Why? Why did you go after my mom?” Benjamin’s voice is quieter than everyone else’s, but it’s so fucking crushed. Emilio’s torture appears to have made less impact on Matt than that broken question with the way he pales even more. This time, it’s not even blood loss doing it.
Swallowing hard, Matt’s eyes close. Shaking his head, he opens them and stares at the floor. “Look, kid. We all do what we can in life. I’m good at this. I was contacted, told what needed to happen. Normally, I wouldn’t go after a woman or someone elderly, but the contract offered specified she wasn’t to die. So. Yeah. I took it. I needed the money.”
“Fuck. You. All my mom was worth to you was money? Just a paycheck?” There’s heat in Benjamin’s voice, but it’s overshadowed by the tears I can hear choking him. I don’t look toward him, but Emilio does. Fuck.
“Emilio!” I try to stop what happens next, but it’s useless.
Emilio moves like a viper, the knife in his hand coming up and plummeting down, again and again. Blood sprays everywhere as an inhuman growl escapes my love. My dick hardens at the sight, but fuck, we’re screwed. I jump up to grab him, but Marcus beats me to it, pulling Emilio into a bear hug and pulling him back. The way Emilio is still swinging the knife, I worry I’m going to lose another Boy, this time permanently. I have a moment of indecision, rare for me, where I try to figure out which way to go.
“I’ve got him!” Marcus roars, followed by an oomph. I shut my worries down and rush over to Matt.
Grabbing his sweat soaked hair, I pull his head back. Fuck, he’s losing blood too fast. “Tell me. Where’s Jax? Where the fuck is he?”
Matt’s face pulls into a twisted smile, the pain stretching it too far to be anything less than sinister. “Fuck. You.”
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Cover Designer Books 1 – 7: Teased by Antonette
Teaser Graphics are done through River Designs.
Vendetta del Cuore
Tradimento
Ira
Morte
Guerra
Valori di Famiglia
Castigo
About the Author:
Leigh is a dark M/M romance author from Texas who writes villains of varying degrees. She considers coffee a major food group and her family fears broken coffeemakers. She writes in her spare time, forced to the keyboard by characters entirely too vocal in her opinion and often falls victim to plot monkeys. In between creating mayhem with her characters and friends, her hope is to transport readers to fictional places and provide darkness with a twist.
Contact with Leigh:
https://linktr.ee/AuthorLeighKenzie
