Dinner on Friday

34. Dante

My gaze arrowed toward the barren floor, where Carla's unconscious body lay crumpled, thick chains holding her captive. She looked rigid, her body stiff, and yet there was a peaceful halo, a sweet serenity oozing from her that contradicted what had happened to her.

Oh, my love. What did he do to you?

A gut-wrenching ache consumed me, tearing through my soul like a relentless storm. It felt as though the very fabric of my being was unraveling like a knitted sweater in the hands of time.

Love was a powerful thing, dammit.

I never knew fear like I did right now. It was all-consuming, ridding me of the last bit of air I had in my lungs.

I staggered forward and the ground beneath my feet unsolidified itself,  leaving me suspended in a void of despair and disbelief.

My hand reached out to touch her face. Her skin was warmer than I expected.

"Cariño, can you hear me?"

No response.

I wish I could have awakened her from this nightmare, but unfortunately, I didn't have that kind of power. Instead, I repositioned myself and sat down on the floor next to her. I pulled her still body onto my lap and cradled her in my arms like a baby.

With the roar of a ventilation fan in the background, I studied Carla's beautiful face. I noticed her full lips and her perfectly arched eyebrows. On her neck, she had a small skintag. If memory served, her father also had one on the same spot, and I remembered how proud she was when she told me that.

Her deep brown skin, despite being warm, lacked its usual vibrancy. Desperate to hear from her, I shook her a little.

She remained unresponsive.

Tears welled in my eyes, unbidden, blurring the harsh reality before me. My shoulders shook as I cried. In my arms, Carla's body jerked to match my movements.

After what felt like an eternity, an eternity my wife couldn't afford, my tears subsided.

Eli, who had been standing there watching me with something akin to pity in his eyes, apologized.

"Fuck your apology. Call an ambulance," I commanded, my voice raw with pain.

The pity in his eyes returned full force. "Can't do that. Mathias's orders."

The next time I spoke, my voice deepened. Gravelly with grief, my Spanish accent took its position in the forefront.

"Eli, call an ambulance right fucking now. I won't repeat myself."

"You won't have to if you listened to what I said. An ambulance is not an option, man. Anything else I can help you with?"

"Yes," I said drily. "You can die."

Bruce, who had been standing like a shadow behind Eli for a couple of seconds, reached out in front of him, fastening his large grip under Eli's chin. He bent the man's head back so fast, I heard a crack. A second later, he sliced Eli's neck open with a knife.

Strong spurts of blood splattered on Eli's blue sweater and down to the floor. Flecks of blood also landed on my face but I didn't even flinch. Eli fell to the floor, holding on to his neck, a gurgling mess.

"An ambulance is on its way," Bruce said while wiping blood off his knife. "Schipper's hurt badly. Vlad and I stayed with him. We patched him up before I left to join you."

"Thank you."

I looked down at Carla, once again floored by her beauty. I remembered seeing her for the first time, her eyes wild with excitement when snowflakes started falling around us, her curly hair up in a bun, her thick lips juicy and so kissable.

The memory of us standing in my bedroom watching the exhilarating paintings by Roka that portrayed a black woman in the beautiful light of erotica came to me vividly. Carla mentioned to me then that black beauty was highly coveted by others and yet they were told that they weren't beautiful.

I remembered looking her in the eyes and telling her that she was the fucking epitome of beautiful to me, and I meant every word. Still did.

"How bad is it?" Bruce asked as he proceeded to drag Eli's body out of the room.

"I don't know."

Inside of me, the dark need for revenge reared its head. I was determined to reclaim the peace and the joy of life that had cruelly been stolen from us.

I knew now that no matter what I did, I couldn't spare Mathias's life. Family or not, he had to go. I had gone against my instincts once before by letting Annabella live and that decision had come back to bite me in the ass.

This time I refused to take any chances. Laying Carla gently back on the floor, I went in search of my uncle.

=|=

In case you missed it, from now on, this book will be updated every Thursday. That's the goal, at least. If I happen to miss a Thursday, you can expect an update by Saturday.