Seventy- Two
Aydem and I walk hand in hand into the barn.
Upon our arrival, we are greeted by Neriman who has Castello tied to a wooden chair. Blood spills from his fresh bullet wounds, as crimson liquid stains the hay that is randomly scattered across the ground.
Castello grunts as he raises his head, new bruises in the shades of blue, purple and black as well as a cut lip mar his features. In my opinion, he deserves far worse and I have the perfect method that will have him screaming like a little bitch that hides beneath his cool, calm and collected demeanour.
Neriman approaches us, and she begins to communicate with Aydem in their mother tongue. In the meantime, I take the pleasure to allow my eyes to continue observing the Italian scum in the vicinity. His usually pristine iron pressed attire is covered in filth and he is missing one of his extremely overpriced shoes.
He still looks like a smug son of a bitch who would be a joy to break.
When our gazes collide, he smiles, showing me his bloodstained teeth and flicks me a wink. The poor Bastardo has no idea that all his men are out the back, digging their graves before they are shot in the back of their head in an execution-style.
So, I make the executive decision to tell him, "Solo per farti sapere, nessuno viene a prenderti," [Just to let you know, no one is coming to get you.] I mutter in Italian, laughter lacing my words as my eyes crinkle at the sides.
His smile doesn't falter, giving me the impression that he doesn't believe a word I've just said.
"Va been se scegli di non credermi." [It's okay if you choose not to believe me." The corners of my mouth curl, "I tuoi uomini soni sul retro a scavare le loro tombe mentre parliamo." [Your men are in the back digging their graves as we speak.]
Abruptly, the smile he courageously wears falls from his lips, his eyes narrow into thin slits, and his body shakes violently.
"Non importa se mi uccidi in questa vita o nell'altra, Mila." [It doesn't matter if you kill me in this life or the next, Mila.] He mutters with a cough. "Ti troverò e ti farò soffrire al punto che vorresti essere morto." [I will find you and make you suffer to the point you wished you were dead.]
I roll my eyes heavenward, I don't believe in reincarnation, so his words have no effect on me. Scanning the room, my eyes spot the small table with surgical tools lying on top of it.
The scalpel has my undivided attention until the words, "You must remain at my side at all times,' repeats in my head. I raise my gaze to Aydem, who is still engaged in an intense discussion with Neriman, and paying me no attention whatsoever.
Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, as I gnaw on my inner cheek, the old saying, It's better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission clouds my thoughts.
I let go of Aydems hand, he twists his neck, looking at me with his brows creasing, and I wipe my palms over my clothes, "My hands are getting sweaty." I whisper with a faint smile.
He nods his head, taking Neriman by the arm, "Do not move from this spot, askim [my love.]." he says sternly.
I nod my head, giving him the answer he seeks, and then he flicks me a charming wink and leads Neriman out of the barn, closing the door behind them.
Slowly walking over to the table, I pick up the scalpel, slipping it into my coat pocket. Castello watches me the entire time, his nostrils flare, and he uses his upper body to fight against the restraints binding him to the chair.
"You know Castello, I've been able to understand everything you and your stain of a cousin have spoken for about a year now." I pause, watching the look of horror cross his face. "And, I know the family emblem you both wear on your chests means everything to you. It's your right of passage to the afterlife as kings, or, something along those lines." I hum.
"Ha! You fucking sly little bitch. I kept telling Trent you were smarter than you appeared to be." Snarling, his upper lip curls. "Those emblems, are marks we bare from our Nonno [grandfather] as we entered adulthood and took over the family empire." He states in a matter of fact tone.
I casually approach him, raising my hand and placing my index finger over my lips, silently informing the guards not to squeak a word in every corner.
Standing in front of Castello, I withdraw the scalpel from my pocket and lightly run the pad of my thumb over the blade.
"Sharp little fucker isn't it?" I chuckle, showing him the small cut on my thumb.
Stepping forward, I press the blade against his shirt, moving my hand down and I cut it open, putting his chest and tattoo on full display.
His tattoo is quite beautiful in its own fucked up way in all honesty. It's simple, yet, captivating.
It features the Italian flag in colour, a black and white rose, rosary beads entwine with the stem and thorns, and the Esposito name is carved into the rose's shaded knuckle busters that rest beneath the rose with a single petal beside it.
"I'm going to cut this from your body," I tap the scalpel against his tattoo, "And I'm going to keep it as a souvenir in my husband's family home." I sneer with a wicked smile playing on my lips.
"You fucking crazy bitch!" He roars as I slice the notorious Esposito insignia off his shaking torso with the point of the blade.
"Shhh, I'm going to have to do this quickly before my husband returns and discovers me violating my promise." I hiss and hasten my movement.
Castello continues to roar, writhing beneath my touch, making this taste a whole lot sweeter. I hold on to the skin as it begins to curl over, blood flows from his open wound and the second I hear the door crash open and the word, "Askim.." leaves Aydems mouth in a scolding tone. I tear the rest of his flesh flush from his chest and dangle it in front of Castello.
"You fucking bitch, you'll pay for this in hell by my forefathers." His voice shakes with fury.
I laugh, "That day can't come soon enough!" I hiss and slap him across the face with his precious emblem.
I feel Aydems anger emitting from his large body as he stands behind me, "You broke your word." He mutters, spinning me around to face him, the scalpel drops out of my hand.
I pout, presenting him with the blood-stained gift I have for him. "I wanted to give you something, and I knew you would have said no. But, it is you who left my side, dear husband, not I."
He narrows his eyes, "Cute," he retorts. "You and I will be having a long talk about you breaking your word."
Tiptoeing, I lean in close to his ear with my cheek pressing against his, "I can't wait," I whisper seductively. "But, it is you who once told me that, rules are made to be broken, remember?" I pat my hand against his chest as I step back, meeting his gaze.
He blows air out of his nose, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand. "I want you to take your gift, and go home. I can not allow you to get your hands dirty for the sake of our son." He says calmly, cupping the side of my face. "I have a feeling you are satisfied enough, to leave now?" His eyes look at me quizzically.
I nod, and he lifts his hand, waving one of the guards to approach him, "Take my wife back to the villa, make sure she doesn't leave the vehicle until Sedar has come out personally to get her." He says in a demanding tone.
The guard nods his head and stretches out his arm as he indicates for me to lead the way.
