Romeo The Mafia Casanova

Romeo’s [POV]

“Holy fuck! You believe that, don’t you?” I barked out a laugh. “I have given you everything! I can’t protect you anymore! And quite frankly, you don’t deserve my love for you! I was blinded into believing you did!” I flipped out my knife, blatantly showing him my intentions.

He jerked back, understanding my simple yet graphic demonstration. Narrowing his eyes at me, he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, “You wouldn’t kill your brother. Despite your threats, you don’t have it in you. You just said it yourself, so put the knife away and forget about what you think you know.”

I saw nothing but rage as I braced myself, allowing my breaths to even out before I gave myself away.

I wanted to destroy him slowly, not lose my temper, and shove my knife directly into his heart.

Too fast.

That was too fast.

He deserved the opposite of that.

He deserved the worst of the worst.

He. Touched. Her.

He. Hurt. Her.

He was going to kill her.

Not only her but my son.

The one I fucking let him raise as his own.

“Knife, bullet, or choking?” I asked casually. “Your choice. I am a gentleman, after all.”

Tristian clenched his jaw.

“You see…” I started pacing. “She told me everything. I do fuck them and kill them, but at least I get the information I need first. All you had to do, Tristian, was take care of your family, and you couldn’t even do that!”

I saw my brother transform from someone I knew to the monster I always protected him from.

Me.

Except in this moment, he made me look like a saint.

I didn’t hesitate, spewing, “Tell me the truth, and maybe I’ll grant you some leniency and kill you fast and not slow.”

A cocky grin crossed his face.

“I’ll start it for you. Why? Was it the money? The power? Why would you want to go down this road?”

He shrugged. “I just told you. It’s all your fault. You should have never fucked my wife and knocked her up with what was supposed to be MY SON!”

“I let you raise him, did I not?”

“Oh fuck you, Romeo! So you knew? You knew Naz was yours?”

“I didn’t at first. Not until I met him. Saw him with my own two eyes. It’s why I stayed away until I couldn’t anymore.”

“You son of a bitch!”

“Save the dramatics and tell me what I want to know.”

“I loved Eden!” he sternly exclaimed. “I still love her!”

“You have a shitty way of showing it. Twenty-five million for her head. Twenty-five million for Naz. How do you even know Ivan Drozdov?”

“He was at my wedding. He asked me to cook the books for him, and I thought it would be a good way to make extra money for my family.”

“I see.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. He used you, and you fell for it like the pussy you are. How did Eden come into play?”

“That was your doing.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“That night in my office during Naz’s birthday party when I found out about you and Eden. I set that plan in motion. Knowing that eventually, you would win, and she’d leave me for you. I wouldn’t let that happen. You weren’t taking her from me, so I made sure of it. I went to Ivan and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. If he paid me twenty-five million dollars, then I’d kill Eden, and he’d make me a made man.”

Hearing him talk about Eden as if she was nothing made me see red. Through a tight jaw, I snarled, “You’re an idiot. You do realize he was going to turn on you, right?”

His eyes lowered, genuinely caught off guard by what I just said. “What do you mean?”

“Well, for one, he knew you were screwing his wife. He lied to you. He was going to rat you out after you killed Eden to gain alliance and respect from our family, you stupid fuck!”

His face paled.

“I didn’t think you’d have it in you. And Naz? What kind of monster kills his son?”

“He’s not mine. He’s yours.”

“You raised him, Tristian. He thinks you’re his father!”

“I wasn’t going to do that until I learned the truth a few days ago!”

“And that makes it okay?!”

“I wanted to hurt you! I wanted you to feel like I have every single day of my life! Eden wasn’t ever mine, was she? She was just a consolation prize to the family accountant while she pines for the hero she’ll never have! It would have been better for you to just marry her; that way, she’d have you, and I could be the one fucking her behind your back!”

“Watch it,” I snapped. “It was only once, you know that, and I-”

“She was a virgin.” Tristian’s eyes locked on mine. “It’s how I knew. She came to my bed already claimed. I was trying to respect her wishes and respect her father. And she was saving herself for you.”

I nearly dropped the knife as I remembered that night, the blood in the hotel room when I went back to talk to her, to apologize, only to find her already getting ready for her marriage to my brother.

I’d glanced at the bed, left a rose for her, and saw blood, but I thought I’d been too rough with her. Never once did I think she was a virgin. She’d been with Tristian for years up till that point.

Now I was the idiot.

“Ah, so the great Romeo Casanova doesn’t know everything. I’m shocked.”

“It changes nothing.”

“It changes fucking everything!” Tristian roared. “You stole from me! Don’t you get it? I had nothing! Not even her! Not Naz! I hate you! I hate you!”

“I’m used to people hating me,” I rasped. Deathly calm stole over me as I held out my knife. “Make your choice.”

“You can’t kill me.”

“Trust me, Tristian. You’re lucky I haven’t already.”

He charged me with his full body, slamming me into the wall, but I spun him around and kneed him in the balls. The smell of whiskey was faint on his breath as he swore and fell to his knees.

I swiped my knife across his chest; the blade went through his shirt, connecting with soft skin. All I saw was Eden’s face. All I heard were his physical threats against what was mine.

What had always been mine to protect.

Mine to love.

Tristian held his chest with both hands as blood started to ooze from the gaping wound over his heart.

“You’re weak,” I said through clenched teeth. “You were too weak to take what you think was yours because I led you to believe that! What’s worse is that I let myself believe that you were the better choice!” I sliced through the air distracting him. He covered his face, and I kicked him into the wall.

He slumped to the floor in a bloody heap. I pressed the heel of my shoe against his right hand. “At least I know my demons, every last one. While you? You pretended to be the white knight when you were the fucking monster the entire time.”

“Get off me!” he roared, trying to shove to his feet, but one arm was pinned while the other was held against his chest, trying to stop the bleeding.

“No.” I knelt, pointing my knife at his hand. “One finger for daring to touch her in a way other than love.” I sliced down, cutting the tip of his finger clean off while he screamed in pain. “Another finger for betraying me. Your family. Your brother!” I sliced down on his middle finger while he squirmed beneath me. His eyes rolled to the back of his head.Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

I waited until he recovered and was staring at me, glassy-eyed but aware.

“And one more finger…for betraying yourself.” This time, when the knife came down, he looked at me, really looked at me, like he was seeing me for the first time.

Slowly, I saw the fight leave his eyes, replaced with a sickening fear that permeated the room.

He suddenly knew I would be the judge, the jury, and the executioner of his life.

His only brother.

The man he had once called his best friend.

“You’ll have to kill me,” he growled.

“I know,” I reaffirmed in a voice void of emotion. “Because if I don’t, the Russians will.”

Tears filled his eyes.

I shook my head in disgust. “You’ve been suffering in a pool of misplaced jealousy while you pushed the only person you’ve ever truly loved away.” The knife clattered to the floor. “I hope that the betrayal on her face, the fear, the sadness in mine… I hope that’s what you see when I take your last breath, and I hope to God you ask for forgiveness in this life before I send you to the next. Pray God is merciful because I won’t be.”

With a cry, Tristian shoved at me, but he was too weak. I slammed him back against the carpet, both of my hands around his neck, while he struggled against me.

His hands claw at mine, scratching, dying for relief while I looked into his eyes and squeezed.

Harder.

Firmer.

I took his life with my bare hands.

For our family.

For Eden.

Especially for my son.

A solitary tear slid down my cheek, splashing onto his face. I couldn’t help it, whispering, “Forgive me.”

His eyes widened and then shut completely.

His feet stopped moving.

His body went lax.

No more struggle.

No more fighting.

No more air that he breathed.

I held onto his throat for a few more minutes until I knew for sure that he was dead and wasn’t coming back. I waited. Remembering all the times I had been there for him.

I loved him.

I still loved him.

He was my brother.

My best friend.

And now, he was dead.

I stood, stumbling back. Realizing what I’d just done. I’d go to Hell for this if I wasn’t already headed there before. It was worth it.

She was worth it.

So was my son.

The last thing I saw before leaving that room and calling for cleanup was the moisture clinging to my brother’s face.

In his last moments, I wondered…

Did he cry for himself?

What could have been?

Did he cry for us?

Did he cry for her?

Or were those last tears selfish ones where his last thoughts were that while he rotted in Hell…

I’d be taking my Heaven.

Her.

Naz.

Mine.