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74
Alex

The ringing in my ears wouldn’t stop. It was the only thing keeping me awake—the echo of the gunshot that had torn through my body.

I could still see Adriano’s face clearly. Cold and heartless. His finger had been steady on the trigger, like killing me meant nothing to him. No pause. No guilt. Just ice-cold hatred in his eyes when the bullet ripped into my side.

The pain had been unbearable. I remembered stumbling and falling, my blood splashing across the marble floor of his office.

The same office where he ruled his empire through fear. My legs gave out, and everything started spinning. He thought I was already dead.

But I wasn’t. Not yet.

Every breath felt like fire burning through my chest. Darkness kept trying to pull me under, but I fought it.

“Alex!” I heard my mother scream as she rushed toward me. She pulled me into her arms, and I felt her tears falling on my face. “My son.”

I had never known my mother loved me this much. I always thought she saw me only as someone she could use to get what she wanted. But here she was, crying real tears.

“Please don’t die, son,” she whispered.

I tried to speak, to tell her I would be okay, but I couldn’t. The pain was too much. It felt like I was drowning in it.

“If anything happens to my son,” my mother said, her voice turning dangerous as she glared at Adriano, “I will bury you alive.”

“Only living people can keep promises,” Adriano replied, his voice getting colder with each word. “But you don’t need to worry about that, Alex.”

He turned to look at me with those dead eyes. “I’m going to send both of them to join you soon. I’m tired of playing this game. Game over.”

My mother immediately let go of me and ran to my father’s side. I had always known Adriano hated our family, but I didn’t realize he wanted us all dead. Learning that everything had just been a game to him—that hurt worse than the bullet in my body.

Just as Adriano raised his gun again, one of his men burst through the door.

“Boss, the force is here,” the man said urgently.

I had never felt such relief in my entire life. For the first time since this nightmare started, I could breathe.

Adriano’s jaw tightened as he looked at me one last time. The way his eyes burned with hatred told me everything I needed to know—none of us would ever be safe as long as he was alive.

“You’re going to be fine, son,” Mother said as the paramedics loaded me into the ambulance. Her hand gripped mine tightly. “I’ll stay right here with you.”

I could manage only a small nod. Speaking still hurt too much.

“We’ll follow right behind you,” Father said softly. This was the first time I had ever heard him speak to me with such gentleness. I wished it hadn’t taken me nearly dying to see this side of him.

The hospital was only ten minutes away from Adriano’s office. As soon as we arrived, nurses rushed me inside on a stretcher. My parents stayed close, their faces pale with worry.

“We need to take him into surgery immediately to remove the bullet,” the doctor explained to my parents after examining me.

“Yes, please,” Mother said quickly. “Please save my son.”

I could feel myself getting weaker. Blood was still seeping through the bandages, and I wondered if this was how I would die—not in some dramatic final battle, but bleeding out on a hospital bed.

When I woke up, the first thing I saw was my mother sitting in a chair next to my bed. Her eyes were red from crying.

“Thank God, you’re awake,” she said when she saw me open my eyes. I could hear the genuine worry in her voice and see it written across her face.

Was she really this concerned about me? Or was she just afraid of losing the son she planned to use to claim the Giordani fortune? The questions swirled in my mind, but I had no answers.

“Mother, I’m still here,” I managed to whisper.

“Yes, my son,” she responded gently, taking my hand and stroking it softly. I had never experienced this tender side of my mother before. If this was all a dream, I never wanted to wake up. “You’re going to be okay.”

“Where’s Father?” I asked, looking around the room. “Isn’t he here?”

“Your father stepped out to make some phone calls,” she explained. “He’s been—”

The door opened before she could finish, and Father walked in.

“How are you feeling, son?” he asked.

“Better,” I replied, though moving still sent sharp pains through my side.

Father sat down heavily on the couch across from my bed. “That bastard,” he muttered angrily. “I can’t believe he would do this to his own family.”

“None of us saw it coming,” I stated. “But I know my brother won’t stop here. He hates all of us. He’ll keep trying until we’re all dead.”

I didn’t care how Father dealt with him. I just wanted to see Adriano gone forever. With him out of the picture, I could finally claim everything that should have been mine.

Mother stood up and walked over to Father. “Your son is completely out of control,” she said firmly. “He could have killed us all today, and I know he won’t rest until he finishes what he started.”

This was exactly what I had hoped for. Mother was smart, she knew how to plant the right seeds in Father’s mind.

“Darling,” she said sweetly as she sat down next to him. She placed her hand on his chest, rubbing it gently. “You saw the look in his eyes. He wants us gone.”

She started to cry—though I could tell she was acting. “He shot Alex. He shot his own brother. And then he pointed that gun at you. You’re his father, for God’s sake.”

“Say no more, Beauty,” Father said with a dark smile. I could read him perfectly, and I knew exactly what he was thinking. “That monster is no longer my son. It’s time to get rid of him. I’m sure his mother is lonely in her grave.”

“You mean...” Mother raised her eyebrows, barely hiding her excitement.

“It’s time for him to join his mother six feet under.”

“But he is your son,” Mother said, though her tone suggested she didn’t really care.

“What kind of son tries to kill his own father?” Father snapped. “He stopped being my son the moment he pointed that gun at me.”

Mother was pleased, too pleased, that it was so fucking obvious.

“I’ll support whatever you decide,” she announced quickly. “I just can’t stand the thought of living in fear of him, but yet he is still your son.”

“Well, you can always follow him to the grave if you think it’s unfair,” Father said coldly, making her flinch.

“No, no—I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right. You should deal with him quickly, before he has a chance to strike again.”

Finally. This was exactly what I wanted to hear. Adriano would die, and Father would be the one to kill him. I wished I could see his face for the last time. How pleasing could it be.

After talking for a while longer and making sure I was recovering well, my parents prepared to leave.

“Rest well,” Mother whispered close to my ear so Father couldn’t hear. “By the time you wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be hearing the news about Adriano’s death.”

A smile spread across my face. “Perfect, Mother. We finally did it.”

“Yes, son. We did. Stay strong, because we might all be attending his funeral soon.”

“I can’t wait. Make sure you bring my black suit tomorrow when you visit.”

“I will.”

“Beauty, what’s taking you so long?” Father called from the doorway. “Let’s go.”

After they left, I let out a long, satisfied breath. Pure joy flooded through me despite the pain in my side.

“Adriano,” I whispered to the empty room, “your time is finally up.”