Chapter 90 The Beast You Built
Matteo
Rosco’s voice cut through the stale air, muffled by a mouthful of burger.
“So…” he said, grinning like this was game night. “We gonna get this party started or what?”
I didn’t answer.
Just grabbed the closest chair, flipped it around, and sat with my arms resting on the back. Lit a cigarette with a flick of my lighter, exhaled slow. Smoke curled upward as I watched her.
My wife.
Valentina didn’t say a word.
Didn’t need to.
She walked straight to Luca, wrapped one hand in his hair, and yanked his head back like he was a ragdoll.
His face lifted, blood crusted under his nose, lip swollen. His eyes blinked open just in time for her to take the bottle of water she’d brought in and dump it all over him—cold, fast, merciless.
He choked. Spluttered. Cursed.
“What the fuck, you stupid cunt—”
And she smiled.
Not the soft kind. Not the I-have-mercy kind.
No.
This smile was all blade.
“That’s okay, Luca,” she said sweetly. “I’ll be your stupid cunt if that’s what you need me to be.”
She leaned in close. Her breath against his face. The wrap on her hands tight as a vice.
“It’s the least I could do… considering you’ll never see another cunt in your life.”
Rosco let out a choking cough and nearly dropped his burger.
“Holy fuck,” he wheezed, wiping his mouth.
I took another drag, and damn near smiled around the cigarette.
That was a good fucking line.
No shaking. No hesitation.
Valentina was steel—polished, sharpened, and unsheathed.
And Luca… well.
He had no idea what kind of animal he’d poked.
I took another slow drag, smoke burning steady in my lungs, and let it out through my nose as Valentina circled Luca like he was already carcass instead of man.
Honestly?
Neither did I.
Sure—I’d seen a flash of it in the way she didn’t flinch when Maria screamed.
But that?
That had been controlled. Contained. Surgical.
This was different.
This was personal.
This was the iceberg finally breaking the surface.
I leaned back further in the chair, legs stretched out, cigarette balanced loose between my fingers as I really looked at her—not the woman I married for leverage, not the beautiful distraction Alessio adored, not even the partner who’d stepped into business like she’d been born there.
No.
I was watching the animal underneath.
The one that had learned to survive long before I ever touched her life.
The one that didn’t need permission to be violent—only an excuse.
And Luca had handed it to her gift-wrapped.
She didn’t rush. Didn’t grab a tool yet. Just let silence stretch, let Luca feel it. Let him understand that whatever came next wasn’t about information or leverage.
It was about reckoning.
Rosco leaned closer to me, voice low, half-awed.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “Where the hell did you find her?”
I didn’t take my eyes off Valentina.
“Honestly?” I said quietly. “I don’t think anyone ever found her.”
She’d been hiding.
Waiting.
I flicked ash to the floor and felt something I hadn’t expected coil deep in my chest—not fear, not doubt.
Respect.
The kind you only feel when you realize the person beside you is more dangerous than you ever planned for.
And that maybe—just maybe—that’s exactly why everything had started falling into place since she arrived.
I watched Luca start to beg.
Watched Valentina tilt her head, listening like she might care.
She didn’t.
After tonight, we were all going to know.
Exactly what kind of animal my wife was.
And God help anyone who mistook her for prey.
I didn’t move. Just stayed where I was—sitting, silent, watching. Letting her work.
She didn’t go for the tools. Didn’t reach for the pliers or the knives or that pretty little hammer she’d admired. She didn’t need them. No, my wife made her way to Luca like she was heading into a sparring match she already knew she’d win.
And then she started.
Her fist slammed into his face so fast I almost missed it.
Crack.
It echoed through the bunker, clean and sharp, the kind of sound you feel in your molars. Luca’s head whipped sideways, blood arcing from his split lip before he even had time to curse.
But that didn’t stop him.
“Fucking bitch,” he spat through blood and broken teeth. “You crazy, fucking—”
Another hit.
Then another.
She didn’t yell. Didn’t scream. Just let her fists speak for her—one after the other, landing with the calm, terrifying rhythm of someone who knew she was in control.
“You see, Luca…” she murmured between blows, not even out of breath. “I don’t need all of these tools to scare you.”
Crack.
“I’m not here to torture you.”
Crack.
“I’m just going to beat the fuck out of you—”
Crack—her knuckles slammed into his nose with a crunch that made Rosco wince.
“—until I decide I’ve had enough.”
Luca was moaning now. Slurring pathetic sounds through what was left of his mouth.
She grabbed his face, squeezing his cheeks between her fingers, blood running in rivulets down to his neck.
“And then…” Her voice dropped, softer than before. “I’ll shoot you. Right between your fucking eyeballs.”
She released him, and his head dropped forward with a splatter of blood on the concrete.
“Because after I’m finished with you,” she whispered, brushing hair from her eyes, “you won’t deserve to live a second longer.”
Rosco made a noise. Somewhere between reverent and horrified. Like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to clap or cross himself.
“Boss…” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head like he’d just witnessed the second coming.
This woman—this creature of vengeance in a bloodstained sweatshirt and hand wraps—was mine.
And I’d never seen anything more fucking beautiful.
She slowed.
Not because she was tired—but because she was done.
I saw it in the way her shoulders dropped, the way her fists unclenched like she’d wrung every last ounce of rage from his face. Luca sagged in the chair, barely conscious, blood dripping to the floor in a steady rhythm.
That was my cue.
I stood, the chair scraping softly behind me, and crossed the room with my gun already in hand. Thumb checked the slide. One in the chamber. Always.
Luca coughed out a broken laugh. “All this,” he slurred, “just ‘cause the bitch saw me fuckin’ a whore nurse?”
I stopped in front of him.
“No,” I said calmly. “You were dead anyway.”
His eyes flicked up, unfocused.
“At the end of the month,” I continued, “when you tried to steal my Colombian imports. Thought you were clever. Quiet. Invisible.”
Shock cut through the haze in his expression.
“Yes,” I said. “I know.”
I stepped closer.
“But this?” I added, voice dropping. “This is happening tonight because you threatened my wife for the second time.”
I lifted the gun, pressing the barrel between his eyes.
“And because you laid hands on her.”
I glanced at Valentina.
She didn’t look away.
Neither did I.
I pulled the trigger.