Differences

Chapter 61 - Alaina

As promised next chapter!!!! 🔪🔫🗡️

Warning: Blood, gore, and inappropriate language is explored within this chapter. Please read what is most comfortable for you.

The demise of Emilliano De Luca? Oh yes. I think this chapter was something we all wanted out and out of the way. 🩸🩸🩸

Also we are very near to end of this story (sobs). I can't thank enough for the love support each and every one of you have given to this story and I'm just so happy to be able to write and upload stories that play out in my head. So thank you so, so much. 

Without a further ado, enjoy reading this chapter 🪽
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〜Present 〜

"Yes. I'm sure. I want to do this. I need to do this." I breathe out facing him. Concern and unease were evident on his facial features, a part of him still probably hoping that I would turn my back and let him finish the job.

That was easier. I didn't necessarily need to add more people on my killed list. I couldn't even remember any of the names I have killed. Like so many assassins, names were only important in the moment. Once the job was done, the memory of it was usually discarded. The only thing that remained were the howls and cries haunting me on the sideline.

It will be easier if Luke finished it in my stead.

Life would be so much easier if everything was done by somebody else in my stead.

However, that only makes me weaker than the man who had ruined more than two decades of my life. The man who had abused me little by little, till I built a tolerance for it. Then, knowing that I had built the tolerance, goes on to new heights to destroy me further, and further, and further. Until I didn't have hope in anything that related to the future. The only thing grounding me being my siblings.

But ironically, he had sent me a gift. The best gift. More specifically a man. In the form of an alliance, I had met a man who was the epitome of caring, loving, and compassionate. Someone who never saw me as a burden or waste of space. Someone who never saw me as just another killer that can be used at his disposal. Someone who saw me. The real me. With the flaws, the scars, both visible and invisible and accepted and still managed to see me as an individual. A beautiful individual. Someone who was just . . . Alaina. Just Alaina.

So as a gift I chose to end him. I didn't want to waste more hours, minutes, even mere seconds, pondering on the thought to lengthen his misery. I didn't want to waste precious time thinking about him.

I wanted to move on.

I just wanted to live. Live, live.

Live to new opportunities.

Live to new experiences.

Live for me. Just for me and those I love.

I roll back and square my shoulders, looking into his beautiful contrasting eyes that always managed to lure me closer to him. He breathes out a sigh in a little defeat, but I knew he was going to let me. Because that's the kind of man he was. He never took away things from me. Instead, he always gave them to me. An act so new but so freeing.

"Then, he's all yours my Love."

"Thank you." I murmur before giving me quick kiss which takes him by surprise. Before letting him saying anything, I give him a smile and walk towards my uncle.

He was nothing short of an ugly mess. Blood painted across every inch of his body; clothes drenched in it. If I did nothing here, he would probably die from severe blood loss within an hour or two. Three at most. Now that would be miserable, but he was already barely conscious, meaning barely any pain or at least not enough conscious of it. The skin that peeked from his clothing as well as his face and neck were littered with bruises and was swelling by the second. His face was almost unrecognisable. Almost.

I shove my feet into one of his wounds, startling him into clear consciousness.

"Did doing this make you feel important? Better? Superior? Did killing your own brother, my father and your own mother, my grandmother, make you feel the same way you abused me? The same way you tortured me?" I search for a response any response. I didn't find any. He just stared into my eyes. He didn't care anymore. He knew he wouldn't survive. So, he chose silence.

Then, I really couldn't care less anymore.

Walking over to table housing many torture devices, I grab two knives. One for my father. Another for my grandmother.

Taking my time, I walk back and kneel down to him. Up close and personal. Because this is personal.

"This one is for my father." I say, shoving the knife from the tip of his throat and dragging it deeply down towards his groin. Slowly painfully. Blood dripped out from the new cut I carve out.

"For my father who was silenced by a fool like you. Silenced because of jealousy, greed, and disgusting envy." He howls from the pain, but my brain barely registers it. If my father had cried out from the pain, no one had heard them. It would have went unanswered, as will his.

Leaving the knife in his groin, I take the second knife and thrust the blade into his right upper thigh and just like the other one, draggingd it down, and down. Lower and lower.

"This is for my Nonna. The woman who had raised me. Loved me. Cared for me when no one else did. When no one else wanted to."

The blade reaches his right ankle and I shove it out and thrust it back into his left upper thigh and repeat the process.

"This is for the woman who had raised you! The woman you stole from me! The woman who had the capability to love and care like you never have and never will!" Tears begin to stream down my face and burned my eys.

The blade once again reaches down to his left ankle, and I leave it there. I watch the blood running. Making a pool of its own. Deep red blood. 

"And . . . this is for me." I say as I take out my gun from the back of my jeans. "For the years you have ruined my life. My sanity! My childhood!" I place the gun right between his eyes that for once displayed fear. For the first time in his life, he has finally witnessed the monster he had created.

Then I pulled the trigger, the bullet leaving a gaping hole. His eyes staring off into the abyss. Into nothing.

For a quick second, I stayed there. In trance of what I just did.

It's over. Finished. Done.

"You did the right thing. It's over now." I faintly register his voice before he takes the gun out my grasp. And then he wraps his arms around me, embracing me in his hold. A sob I didn't know I was holding in rips out of me and I sink myself into him.

It was over.

I was now free.

Free.