Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I stared at the box placed in front of my door. A plain black box with a pink ribbon tied to it neatly, like a birthday present. I could imagine it was the return gift for the package I sent over Moretti's territory.
Lorenzo raised an eyebrow, "Do you want me to open it?"
"It could be a bomb that can detonate the second we'll open it," Scott voiced, lightly kicking the box.
"I don't think so," Marco added.
"Lorenzo, open it," I ordered.
Lorenzo dropped to his haunches and pulled the pink ribbon off the box, he took off the lid and we saw another box inside it. This one was wrapped up quite badly and it was enclosed in plastic wrap. Lorenzo pulled a cutter out of his pocket and stabbed the plastic wrap, cutting it, and making blood spill out of it.
The stench of rotten blood hit my nose, Lorenzo pulled the plastic off, and a decapitated head dropped out of it. It wasn't any decapitated head, it was the severed head of my informant from Sicily.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Marco laughed.
I clenched my hands into fists, his eyes were wide open and a little gift box was tucked into his mouth. Lorenzo pulled the box out of his mouth and opened it as well.
A handwritten note came into my view, it was the handwriting I knew all too well.
Motherfucker!
Lorenzo handed the note to me and I snatched it away from his hands.
“My Agamemnon... You patronize me like some little woman with no mind to call her own. I speak with a heart devoid of fear to those with wit to understand, and you can praise me or condemn me as you like, it's all the same to me.”
-CLYTEMNESTRA, not Helen.
Ah, touché...
I wanted to know, I needed to know if the rumors were true—that Moretti had my wife all this time. This package was sent by them, she fell right into my lap. She was frolicking around right under my nose all this time in Sicily.
I read the note again.
Agamemnon was a king who was murdered by his wife—Clytemnestra. I think it pissed her off when I called her Helen of Troy. A ghost of a smile pulled over my lips.
She was still stupid little Evangeline, who thinks just because she got away, she was free, she can do whatever she wants that I won't find her and drag her back.
I have heard the rumors about a girl, being trained to take over the Moretti family in Sicily, I didn't believe them but then I listened to a man singing praises of the vicious beauty he saw at the Moretti's mansion.
Dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin, and the sweetest piece of ass anyone has ever seen with a temper of a lioness.
It reminded me of someone, someone who fucking stabbed me in the back.
