RISE

RISE


Silvio's POV

Pain hadn't stopped. It didn't lessen, didn't shift, didn't even numb. It throbbed like a drum through my veins, rebounding off my ribs, off the bleeding slashes on my chest, off the torn edges of my lips. But I was free—finally. My hands continued to tremble from the restraints, my legs weak from the consecutive electric shocks that had tried to claim my life, but the taste of gag-free air, the feel of Martina's trembling hands grasping mine—that was enough to hold me up. For now.

Nicholas stood across the room from us, his shoulder stained with blood. The bullet Leonardo had fired had done some damage but not enough. He was still upright. Still alive. Still smiling. That sadistic grin that had followed each scream Martina and I had made filled his face again.

"No weapons," Nicholas said to us. His voice was crisp and cruel. "Just our fists."

Footmen were pouring into the room like a dark river. Wellington, Morgan, and Vicent materialized on either side of him, their faces carved in frozen stone. They moved into flanking positions beside Nicholas with military precision, but none of them went forward.

"Stand back," Nicholas commanded. "All of you. This is between him and me."

Wellington Morgan inclined his head as he leaned against the doorframe, back to the door, arms crossed.. Vicent was tense, expressionless. Footmen lined the room—a circle had been made.

My body screamed at me to collapse. I could not even feel my left arm. My legs were like anchors. Still, I went on. I did not care that I could barely see through the red dropping into my eye from my forehead. I did not care that my ribs ached with every breath.

I had to do this.

For Rosetta.

For Sofia.

For the babies that we lost.

For Martina.

My eyes jerked to her. She was propped against the wall, blood on her lips, her eyes blinking in and out of consciousness. Her hand was half stretched out towards me, trembling.

She shaped words.

"Don't. die."

I wouldn't.

Nicholas struck first. A right hook—fast, wild. I barely dodged it, I felt the wind on my cheek. He came again with a left jab into my ribs. I took it. My knees nearly gave way.

"Already folding?" he sneered, spitting on the ground. "What a disappointment."

I swung with everything I had. My knuckles cracked against his jaw. Bone against bone. His head recoiled, teeth snapping shut. I saw blood—his.

No time to enjoy it. He fired back immediately, a punch to my temple that sent me stumbling sideways. I reeled, the ground yawning beneath me.

I caught myself on my palms, the cement digging into my scraped skin.

I shoved myself up.

He came at me again, swinging fists like he'd been waiting for this moment his whole life. He landed two more shots on my stomach, one on my chin. My mouth was filling up with blood. I spat it in his face.

He laughed. "Still got fight in you."

I gritted my teeth, reared back, and head-butted him in the nose.

Crack.

He yelled, stumbling backward. Blood was pouring down his face, but he wiped it on the back of his hand, laughing wildly.

"You fucking animal!"

I grinned through my bloodied teeth. "You tortured a pregnant woman. Who's the animal?"

He snarled and came at me again. We collided with each other. Fists, knees, elbows, everything.

We fell to the floor together, grappling. His hands tightened around my throat. I clawed at his wrist. My vision began to darken at the edges. I found his eye and slammed my thumb into the corner socket.

He roared and let me go, rolling away from me.

I rolled onto my knees, panting. My whole body throbbed with pain. Blood dripped from my ears. My chest seared. I could taste copper and adrenaline.

He attacked me again, and we crashed into a stack of metal chairs. One clattered to the ground. My back took the impact.

I couldn't scream. I could only gasp for air.

We were rolling again, punching, wrestling, clawing like beasts. He was on his knees and hit my face once, twice, three times. My vision blurred.

Martina cried out from the corner of the room.

I heard her.

That sound made me stronger.

I grasped his punching fist and twisted. He shrieked, and I elbowed him in the jaw. Again. Again.

He rolled off of me.

I straddled him, beating my fists into his face.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Each blow broke something. In my hand. In his face. I did not stop.

Until he kicked me out with his good leg. I slammed into the wall, my body collapsing to the floor.

He fought his way to his feet, panting, face a bloody mess of bruises.

I tried to stand. My legs wouldn't cooperate. I used the wall, pushing myself up.

A sharp crack echoed through the room.

Vicent.

He fell to the ground, a hole in his chest. Right through the heart. Blood poured from his chest like a fountain. Morgan shouted something, but it was distant.

Then another voice rang out.

"Enough!"

Marcello.

He walked through the doorway, his coat billowing behind him. His eyes were steel and locked on his father.

"This ends now."

Nicholas looked up, his chest heaving. "You ungrateful bastard."

"You killed Vicent. You tried to kill Silvio. You almost killed Martina. You killed my mother!"

"Your mother was weak."

Marcello pulled out a gun. "You're not going to live to regret that."

"You won't shoot me."

"Try me."

The threat hung in the air like ice. No one moved.

Nicholas lunged for Silvio, instead.

Marcelo fired.

The bullet hit Nicholas in the stomach. He stumbled, shock crossing his face. Another shot hit him in the chest.

He fell.

i slid back against the wall, bloodied and semi-conscious.

Martina crawled towards him, unsteady and slow.

"Silvio."

i regarded her, eyes sheened. "You're. all right?"

She nodded weakly. "You idiot. you were going to die."

i smiled. Blood flowed from my lip. "I said I wouldn't. Not while you're alive."

She cradled his face, shaking. "I think we lost the baby."

my face fell.

Tears carved lines through the blood on her cheeks.

"It's all right," it's alright whispered. "You alone. I only want you. Please survive."

She nodded, half asleep.

I turned to Marcello. "Save her. Please."

Marcello was already on his knees, yelling for medics, his voice commanding.

Silvio let his head fall back. His eyes ached. The pain numbed. The room went dark.

But Martina's hand closed around his.

That was sufficient to continue to hold on.

Just a bit longer.