Dad jerked Mom against his chest, smiling in a way that made my heart beat very fast. “Maybe you are blind to the truth, Angel. But I am not. Maybe you cannot see or won’t see that our son is a monster. I don’t have to turn him into one. He’s messed up and I’m trying to channel his monster before it goes rampant in a way none of us want. For fuck’s sake, look at him.”
Nevio was running the tip of his blade along the man’s belly with a curious expression.
“Stop it. Stop it now!” Mom whispered harshly.
Dad looked down at her for a long time, before his mouth set in a tight line. “Go upstairs. I’ll stop it. For today. You can’t stop who Nevio is becoming, who he has been all his life. It’s in his genes.”
“Maybe we can get help.”
“We are his help. He doesn’t need anything else. Now go up,” Dad growled.
He’d never ordered Mom around like that, and I shivered.
Mom ripped away from his hold and stormed outside. Dad released a harsh breath then he stalked out of the room. I crawled out from under the desk and stumbled to my feet then toward the keypad, pressing the button that Dad had. He appeared in the neighboring cell a moment later.
“The show is over,” he ordered.
Nevio shook his head, still hurting the man with his knives. “I’m not done yet.”
He sounded so eager, so…wrong.
Dad grabbed Nevio by the shoulder and jerked him to his feet. “I said it’s over. And you better remember who makes the laws in this house and in the West.”
Nevio stared back at Dad for a moment before he dropped the knives and nodded.
Nino pushed away from the glass and patted Nevio’s shoulder. “You need to learn when to stop, when to control yourself.”
“Control is no fun,” Nevio said with a grin.
Dad exchanged a look with Nino I didn’t understand, shaking his head. “You have to learn control.”
“Why? You don’t ever have to control yourself as Capo.”
“I don’t have to, but I do.”
He pushed Nevio out of the room while Nino went over to the bleeding man. “I’ll be back. This isn’t over yet.” Then he followed Dad and Nevio out.
I didn’t do anything but breathe for a while, then I forced my body to move. I walked out of the room and stood in the corridor until I’d counted to fifty-five before I felt capable of moving again. I should go back up to the mansion. Instead, I walked into the cell. I’d never felt sadder and more desperate than I did in this moment.
The floor of the cell was covered in blood and the knives and pliers lay in a blood puddle on the floor next to the badly injured man on the stretcher. My brother had done this. Dad and Nino had shown him how to do it.
I couldn’t understand how the people who protected and loved me were capable of this.
I took a step closer to the man and his eyes opened but one of them wasn’t all right.
His chapped, bloody lips parted, and he said something but I couldn’t understand his rasp. I walked closer, even as panic and nausea settled in the pit of my stomach. My ballet flats touched the blood and soaked it up as I stopped beside him.
“Help me,” he croaked.
I climbed up on the stretcher and perched on my knees, terrified. What could I do for him? I couldn’t help him escape. What if that hurt my family?
Tears pressed against my eyes.
The man looked pleading. “Help me please.” He sucked in a rattling breath. “Kill me.”
I froze, eyes widening.
His face tipped toward the knives that Nevio had dropped on the floor.
“Stab me,” he pleaded.
My brows furrowed as I hopped down and reached for the knife closer to me with a trembling hand. I curled my fingers around the bloody handle. The blade was coated with the man’s blood from the endless cuts Nevio had inflicted on him. I avoided looking too closely at the man’s body. I could not bear the proof of my family’s monstrosity. I stared at the sheer fabric of my tutu that was slowly turning red with the blood around me.
“Fast. Before they return,” the man rasped.
I looked up at his begging face, or what was left of it.
Tears streamed down my cheeks.
“Show mercy, girl, and kill me.”
How could killing someone be mercy?
I’d sworn to never hurt a living creature, didn’t eat meat, dairy or eggs, and here this man was asking me to end his life.
My fingers around the knife handle tightened but I could not move. Despite my revulsion, I reached out with my other hand and touched the man’s shoulder very gently. I never touched people I didn’t know. But this man needed comfort and so I had to get over my anxiety. “I can’t.” The words were broken. I moved my hand back again.