Chapter 204 Book 2 CHPT 36: Enemies Within II
Chapter 204 Book 2 CHPT 36: Enemies Within II
ALINA'S POV
I was still in shock from every ugly revelation that came out of Rocco’s mouth.
How could he betray us like this after everything we shared? After every bond, every meal, every moment he stood inside our home like family.
All these years he watched me cry. He watched me live in misery.
A tear rolled down my cheek before I could stop it.
He would comfort me and reassure me that things would be better soon, meanwhile he was the one behind it all.
He was the enemy hiding in the dark, throwing arrows into my life and pretending to shield me from them.
How must Val be feeling right now?
Aside from me, he trusted Rocco the most with his life, with his empire, with everything.
How painful must it be to discover that the man you called fratello (brother) had been feeding you poison for three years?
No. This is wickedness.
More tears streamed down my face, but I wiped them quickly before Nikita could see and taunt me.
I will not let her have the last laugh. Never.
Rocco was still fighting for his life in Val’s grip, and Valentino’s hold never faltered despite Nikita’s sudden arrival.
“Nikita,” Val growled, his voice dark and vibrating with fury, “so you finally show your true colors. I knew you were up to something. I just did not know what exactly. Turns out you and your famiglia (family) are in cahoots with the Bloodhounds. How else do you explain your speedy arrival?”
Nikita chuckled softly, mockery dripping from the sound. She stretched her left hand toward Decimus, and he rushed forward to take it like it was some sacred treasure.
She walked carefully across the snowy ground, her coat sweeping behind her like she already owned the place, like she was regina (queen) of a kingdom built on blood.
Decimus moved beside her like a pathetic loyal dog.
She stopped beside Bianca and gave her a gentle smile.
Bianca smiled back.
That one look confirmed everything.
The pain that flashed across Val’s face was unmistakable, and my stomach twisted at the sight of it.
So much scheming just to destroy one man.
But then something hit me.
If Nikita is working with Bianca, then Rocco is not just Bianca’s pawn.
He is Nikita’s man too.
I gasped, the realization crashing into me.
All this time Rocco had been Nikita’s secret informant.
No wonder she was able to get close to Val. No wonder she broke through years of enmity and hatred so easily. He was the door she walked through.
My fingers curled into fists.
“Rocco,” I called out, my voice shaking with disgust, “how much of a Judas can you be? You acted like the good man, the loyal one, meanwhile you were the grandmaster of evil.”
I spat into the snow.
“I hope you rot in hell for eternity.”
He laughed, a broken, maniacal sound from where Valentino had him pinned down.
“Hell?” he rasped. “Pretending to be loyal to you and your bloodthirsty husband is worse than hell.”
Valentino did not let the words settle.
“Bastardo (bastard)!” he roared and drove his fist into Rocco’s face.
The crack of bone echoed in the cold air.
“Figlio di puttana (son of a bitch)!” Another punch landed, harder, more vicious.
“I will kill you. I will fucking kill you!”
His voice was no longer just anger. It was betrayal turned into violence.
The last time I saw him this furious was the day El Dorado killed his Padrino (godfather).
Valentino looked possessed, his eyes blood red, his jaw tight, veins bulging along his neck.
Every blow carried ten years of brotherhood turning into hatred.
He struck Rocco again and again until Rocco’s body flew off the car and landed hard in the snow, his blood spreading across the white surface like spilled wine.
Valentino did not pause. He advanced and began kicking him brutally, his polished boot slamming into Rocco’s ribs, his stomach, his side.
Rocco groaned with every impact, coughing up blood each time Val’s boot connected with his body.
The sound of bone meeting leather was sickening.
Yet even through the pain, that mocking, nerve-grating smirk stayed on Rocco’s swollen face.
It was as if he wanted to push Valentino further. As if he wanted to see how far the Don would go.
What shocked me most was that Bianca and Nikita did nothing.
They simply stood there, watching their loyal spy being beaten nearly to death like it was some show, like this was entertainment they had been waiting for.
When Valentino finally stopped kicking him, Rocco was barely recognizable. His face was battered, blood soaking into the snow beneath him.
Valentino reached slowly to the holster at his waist and pulled out his pistol.
The metallic sound of it clicking into his hand made my heart race.
He placed his boot firmly on Rocco’s forehead and pressed down, grinding his face into the snow while aiming the gun at him.
“You have been my right-hand man for ten years,” Valentino said, his voice now calm in a terrifying way.
“So you know exactly what happens to those who betray me.”
He added more pressure, twisting his boot slightly.
Rocco’s breathing was ragged, but his eyes remained defiant.
“I fear no death, Tino,” he spat through blood. “The moment I chose this path, I knew my fate. So cut the crap and kill me already.”
Valentino’s lip curled.
“Kill you?” he chuckled softly.
“So fast? That would be mercy, Rocco. And I promise you, misericordia (mercy) is something you will never see in my eyes again.”
He pulled the trigger.
The gunshot exploded through the cold night, and the bullet tore straight into Rocco’s left knee.
A gut-wrenching scream ripped from his throat as his body jerked violently. He rolled in the snow, clutching his shattered knee, his cries raw and animalistic.
Valentino crossed the distance in two strides and planted his boot directly onto the broken knee.
Rocco screamed again, gasping, tears mixing with blood.
Valentino pressed down harder, his teeth clenched, his face cold and merciless.
“This,” he said quietly, “is what you get for betraying me. And believe me, this is only the beginning of your torture.”