"When we promised to love each other till death do us part, I never thought death would come so soon."
They call her Justice and it's probably because she takes the law into her own hands, dishing out whatever she wants to whoever she wants. At just...
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I should've known that Nevio would have property in Little Italy. Judging by his Italian roots, it's not all that surprising. Still, I find it hard to believe that he'd like living in such a compacted neighborhood like this.
The streets are thin— made even smaller by all the parked cars that line the boulevard. I bet one of them are unlocked and it taunts me. If I could just get away from Nevio for a single second, I could be long gone, driving off into the sunset.
"Where did Patch go?" I ask as Nevio unlocks the door to his house with one hand and holds onto me with the other. His grip isn't that tight, but I know that he has a gun on the ready. Maybe I could get out of his hold, but I wouldn't do so without getting shot first.
"He went to go contract an STD from a prostitute." He says with a hint of indifference in his throaty voice, pushing the door open. He steps in quickly, pulling me in behind him. "Why do you even care? Are you jealous?"
"No, but you sound like you are." I roll my eyes, folding my arms across my chest. "Sorry your bromance is being put on the back burner."
As soon as that sentence leaves my mouth, I regret saying it because I know how easily Nevio Vignale is triggered. One minute we're walking inside of his house, the next minute I'm shoved against the wall with his hand squeezing my jugular.
My throat burns as he tightens the pressure around my neck, while my hands tangle with his in an effort to relieve the pain. He brings his face to mine until we're only inches apart, bringing his mouth to my ear. I can feel the warmth of his breath radiate against my skin, mixing in with the cold air of his house.
"You really want me to kill you, don't you?" He whispers into my ear, grabbing my jaw with his free hand to ensure that I'm looking directly at him. I fight him by closing my eyes, but he tightens his hold on my throat until I open them again. "Answer me."
He alleviates the force on my throat just enough for me to choke out, "I don't want you to kill me. I just want you to hurt me."
That's exactly what I want Nevio De Luca Cristiano Vignale to do to my body—amongst other things. If he truly hurts me, if he personally attacks me, then I won't have no qualms about killing him. I won't have remorse or regrets about murdering him in cold blood. Maybe that makes me a monster, but I've never pretended to be a good girl.
His hand drops from my throat and he looks away with a harrowing darkness in his brown eyes. "Be careful what you wish for, bambolina. You just might get it."
I fall to my knees, clutching my neck and gasping for the breath he'd denied me. Air floods into my lungs, but the bruising on my neck makes the intakes of breath sharp and painful. I cough a little, surprised that I'm not spitting up blood.
