The Revenge of Diana Costello I

Beatrice Sartori

Exactly three days ago he left without even saying a word that could mend any of the parts of my broken heart, how stupid I was for a moment to imagine looking into the abyss and not being swallowed. It's strange how his absence becomes a welcome respite, some kind of twisted calm in the midst of yet another storm, for someone made up of lies living within one is like a normal day.

So, being trapped in the basement like an animal, in a small room provided only with a cupboard, a table and some cloths that were thrown so that she could sleep on them, if she could be grateful for the clemency given, it's just the fact of having a bathroom and not needing to smell your own urine.

Surviving yet another déjà vu of what life has been like in recent years, an endless cycle of pain and misfortune, at what moment did I allow myself to think that I could live something beyond that?

I never imagined that everything would be as bad as it once was, the moment I was introduced to Stefano I knew I was handing my life over to a bad man, after all, what mafia man would be good... And no matter how naive he was or try to be, I still had a little hope saved, for some stupid reason, of having a good marriage and a life of queen next to the next Don, that hope was extinguished right at the beginning of our marriage seven years ago.

I'm trapped inside my own desires, taking all the lies as lessons in a long apprenticeship, making my mind boil with crazy ideas in an abused body that begs for a little rest and some care. Even though it's an unattainable dream.

This has been my life since I was sixteen, to be Stefano Sartori's luxury whore decked in diamonds by day and beaten by night, carrying the title of wife would be very inappropriate considering the life I lead. That's what we are, fertile wombs, golden cunts born to marry the heirs, sold to form alliances. Women judged by other women in an endless cycle of hate just for being a woman.

Seeing how this pattern continues to repeat itself I feel that death seems more attractive today than going on like this...

I remember the moment when the first beating came after a family party, Stefano said he noticed my glances at one of the capos.

hmffff.

It's not like I can look anywhere above my head without being accused of cheating.

They are long years of which I endure being molested, raped and beaten by a man of extreme beauty, bright eyes that guard a demon, making declarations about a nonexistent love, a man who was able to buy our marriage, like someone going to a supermarket doing the day's shopping, demanding to have his acquisition even before coming of age, his fixation mixed with an obsession with me completely sick, in fact, he is someone sick, soulless who feeds hatred every day, turning me into someone as sick as he is.

Not even at the age of sixteen, during the honeymoon, did I manage to delude myself more, as I discovered that I had married the devil himself. And it's those memories that consume what's left of the soul.

I entered the room next to him, after the wedding party in one of the noblest halls in the city, I was a little afraid, after all, it would be our first night as a married couple, his imposing presence making my back burn with his gaze.

In a moment I stopped in front of the bed and suddenly I was on the floor with her hands wrapped around her braided hair, I felt the strands being ripped out as I was pulled across the room, without having the opportunity to stand again I was dragged tearing the dress at my knees only to be tossed onto the bed like a doll.

His deep voice echoing through the walls of the room made my mind go crazy trying to understand what I could have done to attract his wrath.

“I have a wedding present for you, wife.” The affectionate way he stroked my cheek left me sitting there.

I felt my body trembling and tried to follow the quick movements around the room, noticing the luggage placed next to a huge sofa.

When his gaze turned toward me, those blue eyes gleamed like morning from a sunny sky causing a twinge of relief, hope. Undoing our distance by placing himself between my legs, his hands came over my cheek in an affectionate way, wiping away the path taken by the tears. His voice came out softly, like a caress.

— Xiiiuuuu princess, I promise to try not to hurt – I noticed that her eyes sparkled.

You already hurt me husband I replied in a whisper, seeking some ounce of courage, because that was the truth.

“If you hadn't spent the entire wedding looking at one of the De Angelis, this wouldn't have happened.

Confusion took over my mind, his words and actions attracted a movie in my head in search of remembering, I was aware that I didn't look at anyone but him wearing a gray suit highlighting his blue eyes like the sea, the perfect smile causing strange sensations in my chest.

I was only allowed to watch and worship my husband, I understood that early enough.

I was awakened from my daydreams when I felt his left hand squeezing my neck, stealing the air.

—Don't try to deny amore mio, I saw it – He spoke bringing his face closer, licked my cheek and said in my ear — And for that I'm going to punish you, so that you learn to be a good wife.

I screamed sticking my head between my knees trying to escape the memories, because the first times are the ones that really hurt, the ones that destroyed an innocent heart and stole my soul.

Beatrice Sartori

Your smile, the caresses and every declaration of love, everything is a lie.

That's why I tried to close my eyes to escape, wanting to stay in the present even if it's painful. But in your absence I am only able to suffer from the memories.

The rough touch of her hands tearing every part of the dress, leaving only the small lingerie, attracting the attention of her eyes, shining as if she were unwrapping a present.

"Is that what you wanted to give De Angelis, wife?" I shook my head in denial.

I only had eyes for you all night, husband I said exasperated feeling the knot in my belly grow.

— If you keep lying, the punishment will get worse – I let out a sob, not knowing what to do – Sit down with your legs over the side of the bed.

I obeyed his orders feeling fear cling to every corner of my heart.

“That's what disobedient wives get.” He had grabbed something from a suitcase in the corner of the room and when he opened his hands he had a red ball and a leather strap.

Caressing my cheek, kissing my forehead, he bent down to my eye level.

“Remember, wife, this is your fault. His hands came with the strap closing on my neck.

In a strong grip ripping the air out of my lungs I feel like I'm about to be hanged, I try to support my hands on his arms in search of lessening the grip that interrupts the flow of air, without any effect on the body with triple strength, even with his nails digging into the skin exposed by the fabric raised to his elbows, he remains firm, impassive, increasing my despair even more.

His hand presses my chin forcing me to open my mouth to make room for the red ball, making the saliva build up inhibiting all my words, he closes the contraption behind his now tangled hair. I'm lost

In a quick movement I'm flipped onto my back without any care.

I hear a metallic sound reverberating louder over the wails that escape my throat then I am pulled back by the neck, I try to grab the bed, but nothing seems to be able to make it stop. I was thrown to the floor and held by handcuffs on the wooden foot of the bed, feeling like an animal, he grabbed my neck forcing me to lift my face and spat.

I lay motionless watching him take off his clothes, kicking when he pulled my legs and feeling like a doll as I was turned onto my back with his legs pushing my knees apart, his wrists hurting from the cuffs and the collar cutting off my breath, I felt my own saliva dripping. through the corners of the mouth.

He'll be a good husband, it's just a jealous fit.

I screamed something indecipherable as the pain of penetration took root from my toes until my hair was ripped out by him, my body felt like it was ripping in half. Stefano didn't wait, he just took it. And when it was over I thought I couldn't do any worse.

My aching legs barely held up as he brought me to his knees and the lashes began robbing me of what little air I still had. He took me again at the end of the thirty lashes.

At some point I lost consciousness, I woke up in bed praying it was just a nightmare, until I walked into the bathroom and saw the cuts on my skin, the dried blood between my thighs and the bruised wrists.

Before I even started crying the bathroom door opened and there were my husband's furious eyes.

"Don't close the door on me, you hear." I shook my head, unable to speak.

This time Stefano outdid himself, seven years later and he still manages to find a way to fuck with my psyche, even learning every one of his tricks to destabilize me. The marks scattered across the body show how I was unable to maintain the theater, I listened to the sound of the door opening, waiting for him to appear, I let out a mute cry when I saw my older brother.

His dark eyes seem filled with hatred as he sees my state and pities. The messy hair and always neat beard completing the familiar face, I saw the guilt in his eyes.

“Beatrice! He whispered That son of a bitch is going to die! Why didn't you say anything?

"What could you say brother?" Stefano is my husband, son of Don Sartori. It's not like he's punished for using his whore.

— Cazzo! You're his fucking wife! – he exasperated, lowering his voice right after and looking at the door.

Even if the family rules were clear about respect, fidelity and not hurting wives Stefano was not just anyone, under his skin there was a true demon. What could a single woman claim that an entire council made up of men wouldn't see my status as a simple upbringing?

I don't doubt that other women in the organization go through the same or worse, the result of a command that only values its own home, the Don doesn't seem to realize that he feeds his own wolves, distorting all our Sicilian values.

Unable to argue, I lowered my bottom lip so he could see my mark as Stefano Sartori's property, his eyes widened.

"I'm going to kill him." Giacomo looked ready to run, I grabbed his arm with all the strength I had left after days without eating.

How did you find me? “I feared my husband would come back and find him there.

“Apparently, I don't know what you did and won't ask, but you seem to have won the loyalty of one of your husband's soldiers.

“Frank? – I asked.

“Yes, he came to my apartment to say you'd been missing for five days, only Stefano was holding you captive.

“I found out I was pregnant, he beat me and used me until he lost another baby. – I sobbed and my brother's arms supported my weak body

— You can't kill him, it would be a war Giacomo, he left three days ago he should be back any moment...

Fury surging in waves at the telling, the truth is humiliating and it's all my fault for not being a good wife.

“Fuck it, I'm going to make that son of a bitch pay, I won't be able to forgive myself for not getting you out of this sooner.

All this time I kept up the farce of the perfect marriage, the perfect wife a doll, I tried to forgive my older brother, after all, he only fulfilled his role within the organization.

Since our father died, he has become everything to me, taking care of all of us and doing everything to keep us together.

I let go of my brother's arms, pacing the room thinking of a way we could all get out alive, ideas swarming in my nervous mind full of hideous whispers and a huge desire for revenge.

“Hunter! – I exclaimed – Talk to Hunter, he knows several drug suppliers, get one that can knock Stefano down and one that looks like a good night cinderella.

My husband's connections with certain contacts would be just a toast, the ideas coming to life and the macabre thoughts taking over the body, of being able to take revenge on him and on the culprits for the horrendous nightmares. Each one of them that destroyed a part of the dreaming girl, each one that caused an abortion, taking away the opportunity for life to exist.

The grotesque way he disturbed and killed every good part inside my soul, his ways of trying to convince about how strong his love is and then his hands closed around my neck. It must be all my fault, for wanting a day without a spanking or dreaming of a touch of love, I was trapped in naive dreams waiting for Stefano to become someone else, giving up all selfesteem to live for him, waiting for him, yearning to that after the pain came the warm and caring touch.

I looked at my brother knowing that everything was about to change.

He would rid the world of Stefano and, as a gift, he would place him in the family's power.

"What does Beatrice want to do?" – A low and serious voice expressing curiosity

— First his death belongs to me – My older brother shook his head in disbelief — You just said you wouldn't forgive yourself, this is your opportunity brother. Without any scruples I took advantage of your pain for my ruin.

As much as I tried to never be able to truly forgive Giacomo for having given me up so young to that demon, if he took away the opportunity to kill Stefano, that pain would never go away.

Our gazes locked silently, his eyes traveling over the bites on my arms and all the visible marks on my dirty little pajama bottoms. I took advantage of his close inspection to drop the bomb.

— We will kill him and fake my death for the family, we will leave the traces so that they believe it was the Sicilians, Don Sartori will hunt the culprits blind with hatred – I saw your silence as an incentive to continue — The Sartori will disappear from the map Giacomo, and you, the oldest of the Costello family, will take the chair.

My only reason to fight for a life is going to be to get my hands on each one of them and have them beg for a quick death, when all they're going to get is the little monster taught, trained and educated by the Devil himself.

Beatrice Costello

What was the point of starting all this, if not, to relieve the mind of all the shackles that bound crazy thoughts? To be able to find Giacomo's forgiveness, to forgive myself for ever having believed that I could be truly happy.

A real game of chess formed inside the mind ready to act at every choice and every possible turn, without measures or going back to the hole just the dam bursting letting all the rot take over, one of which could never have erased even if it had tried.

A dangerous game, since human chess generates deaths. And it's amazing how much it brings a sweet taste to my mouth making me take the tip of my tongue to my lips to wet it wishing I had more of that sensation

Listening to the song over and over in a maddening loop only keeps me more awake as my mind tries to get lost in the meaning of the words. Maybe that's the difference, I accepted the monster that dwells in me as a second layer, like the air I breathe. Did he exist or was he born?

Who will know the designs designed by the devil, who will know which fall he will give.

With each pain of each bite causing the pain to spread throughout the body, with each beating inhibiting my movements, stunning the thoughts that were forming inside, taking up a space that I once believed was good. Or at least I tried to imagine being good.

The space trained since birth to be condescending, patient, loving and obedient is now just a hollow and dark space, the suicidal desires I had were being taken over by the insane desire to consume every scream and every moan of her pain.

With fire, blood and the madness intrinsic to the lonely at heart, my mind is taken over by all the ideas flowing in a perfect scheme, the chess pieces moving each time as I lift the stick to hit the bastard again and again. Seeing the fury flash in his eyes, I dropped the staff on the ground bringing our faces close enough, stroking the beard grown by the journey, I find myself imagining how many he tormented without having me to quench his thirst.

Blue eyes gleam in response, her tongue sticking out wetting her sinfully reddened lips, was that the point of allowing myself to fall ill? Or was it already down before him? I place my hand on her cheek.

I love you Stefano. I say, feeling the rumble in my chest.

The words coming out so easily that I don't even know when I came to love my tormentor, I feel my eyes burning with tears taking every breath I take.

Beatrice The serious voice stirs something inside me. Let me go, I promise to pretend it didn't happen.

I sigh, climbing onto the small table with a few things neatly laid out beside it, tracing his outstretched biceps with the tips of my fingernail, eliciting a moan from both of us reaching his wrists, and stopping when he touches the ring on his ring finger.

–What kind of love is this Stefano? I ask, reaching down, taking his hands to pick up the red ball trapped between the leather straps on the table.

He lays his head back as I kneel on the wood, feeling my chest heaving in such a painful way, replaying touches and caresses and looks. Was this love just an illusion, mine?

It's the only real love. I stop the movements trying to absorb each one of your words. – Love makes us crazy and all the monstrosities we do for love, doesn't make us monsters just made of meat.

I sigh hard feeling the pain carried by the huge drop that escaped from the corner of my eyes, running away when running down my cheek.

– Let me feel one last time. He bites his lips

The sight of you so innocently helpless, exposed in all its glory like a sculpture carved from the most precious marble, it's this scene that steals another tear from me, holding your left arm putting my face close enough to yours, feeling the warmth and the aroma of his cigar breath, the tongue tracing all the path made by the tear sipping as if it were the purest drink. I pull away just enough for us to lock eyes.

I feel like I've gone crazy. – I admit it, even if inside I still don't know how to distinguish whether it's good or bad.

You were always crazy my love and perfect for me. I feel the truth in his words, getting swayed, tempted to undo the ties that bind him. Not. ' I look back at him. Don't do it, only one of us can get out of here alive after that.

I swallow hard because this is the most painful truth, a knife that cuts my soul and for some twisted reason I love this pain.

"Are you giving up for me?" I murmur in disbelief.

Your smile opens up huge making your white teeth shine with so much beauty, my piece of the sun that burns my wings.

We'll meet in hell darling. – I see how the look changes at the same moment. “Don't forget whores have a reserved place to serve there too.

I smirk in satisfaction, it's the truth, that's what I am, a whore and now a bad bitch about to cause carnage, I went back to my movements putting the red ball in her mouth, listening to the whimpers as the words started to hit the open scars inside her soul, her accusations of being a bad wife, of being a whore from a bad family.

The indignity of bearing a Sartori heir.

I get down from the table facing the sea that carries all my pains, the annoyances and my heart, yes, if I ever had one, I'm leaving with that man. And even he knows it, as he stops trying to speak to force his best smile even with his mouth open. His gaze carries the satisfaction of knowing he's tattooed on me.

I dance for a moment chanting the music making my low voice reverberate on the walls of my cell, the feeling of pleasure grows, because this time it will only be mine. Mine alone, for all eternity. Without looking at anyone else, because the last look will be mine. I walk around the room, reaching the table and carefully choosing the proof of the monstrosity my love is capable of doing for him.

An infamous joke in which every movement brings out a smile amidst the chaos of blood splattered across the small space that used to be my cell.

Beatrice Costello

My right ear asked for rest from the incessant sound and even with the pain I let the music take over, when you lose your mind do you feel free or alive?!

It wasn't the time to hold back the pain, not when my demon needs to sing, when my mind needs to feel the blood heating. I watched his eyes tremble, his breathing out of rhythm and the sweat on his forehead instigating the worst in me, something I never imagined would be possible as a distant dream coming true, now. I chose the dulledged axe.

I am your executioner, your owner, your hell, the only one capable of having your love, because we are dirty, we are made of the same rottenness.

My troubled and dazed mind brought back the unfortunate words, memory is a disgusting bitch.

I used the same red ball I was forced to wear, which made the sight bring me such distorted pleasure. Seeing him like this, helpless, I feel that I am taking his throne.

Is this who I am now? A version of it?

An executioner like Stefano has been all these years.

I got up looking at the work as a whole, the sculpture that will live on in my memories, it would have been more difficult without my brother's help to secure it to that butchery rod, convincing him was complicated, but it was worth the pleasure of reciprocating all your love is mine alone.

This is our love. I say smiling, standing up, choosing the new weapon on the table. – Let me show you.

And that will be my most pleasant memory.

Every 'I love you' being returned in its own way, using the moment to avenge every child he raped in front of me and every child he took from me.

I took the metal stick swinging from one foot to the other feeling the music command my movements, when the bass reached the apex I rotated my hips and hit him in the ribs listening to the sound of bones breaking, like a soft melody.

I shook my head, watching what the next point would be and suddenly it didn't make sense anymore, nothing made sense, nothing but a battered, panting piece of meat reduced, only everything ends one way or another and the end isn't always a happy one. fairy tale. Despite the seeping pleasure, the feeling of finally satiating that ravenous little bloodlust, I was consumed by the desire to see him in pieces, like all the pieces he had made of me.

With a cleaver I began the cuts, making sure to let him feel each one of them his eyes rolling in pain, heightening my pleasure and the moans filling the space and the drool running down the red ball, the blood splattering all over the room, I let go of the cleaver and grabbed a knife, reaching into his abdomen and slicing open his guts from one end to the other, falling to the ground, the pleasure of killing becoming a part of my soul, his eyes losing life.

I started with them, that part that one day eluded the little world of fantasy making me believe that I could be happy inside the mafia, I stuck the knife in each of his eyes, I put each one in a small box, I walked to the other side of the room pulling the metallic drum positioned just for that, his feet thrown across the room were flung like a basketball, I caught the guts throwing inside the drum.

Without an ounce of compassion or pity for the dead.

“With the cleaver will take a long time,” I blurted out loud to the corpse in front of me.

I took the knife and cleaver to the table picking up the axe, making the throwing preparation and there goes a thigh ready to be shattered.

And in this ritual of disemboweling every piece of the body, I expelled every painful memory, every hurt, not even if everything goes wrong, this small moment will always be my victory.

I took the gallon of gasoline throwing it inside the drum, climbed on a stool and untied the trapped hands adding to the small barbecue, his head at the bottom without eyes coming towards me drew a laugh. I pulled back enough to lean the tired body against the door, picking up his pack of cigarettes and lighter.

As soon as I threw the lit lighter into the gas, I puffed on my first and only cigarette.

Feeling all the lies being burned by the fire next to the man who was once my husband, the intense blue eyes promising and swearing a nonexistent love with each beating, forcing my mind for a single moment to think I was guilty of his evil deeds.

Am I losing my sanity?

Losing myself from reality?

The cigarette is gone, and the flames continue to consume all the fuel, the smell of burning flesh must have settled on my skin.

But I wanted to be there and nowhere else in the world, to see what for a single moment was the air I breathed, the master of my demon turn into ashes is like coming without having sex. And though no one could take his place, even in death he is my deepest pain, my most open and most sunexposed scar.

The dream of a happy life and of building a pure love with a big family is my dream of a margarine commercial that just went up in smoke.

I waited that at some point regret would strike, that the pain would make me numb, that the air would fail. Still, by some joke of fate I felt my lungs draw in air comfortably for the first time, felt pleasure filling my veins. I rolled my eyes at the mess, that was the only moment of discomfort I felt.

Drink me, feed me and let me show you the light.

My demon seemed finally free of its shackles and through some madness, that's comforting.

I took the alcohol from the shelf beside me and walked towards the dirty ax on the table, with a new flannel, I started to clean the blood, smelling the rust and watching the shine of the ax appear.

I continued the same process on each knife, each razor, each needle and each pliers, all the last twentyfour hours I've spent here have paid off. Every scream of pain present within memory is kept especially in a place where the past cannot be forgotten.

Beatrice Costello

And now every piece of me took a toll on maintaining itself, I breathed as deeply as I could, leaning against the wall, took the cell phone off the shelf, turning off the sound and opening the door. The darkness embraced like an old friend, climbing each step I expected to feel any remorse and all I felt was a huge nothing.

Walking through the dark house, groping along the walls for some support for my tired legs, I managed to reach the bedroom, and as in a silent prayer I connected the cell phone to the sound system, threw the device on the bed without caring about the number of missed calls or messages.

I sighed, losing myself from reality feeling the taste of blood filling my mouth after cutting my lips biting.

I could have lost my sanity and still, it didn't matter.

His blood being spilled and running down the corners, the fire in his blue eyes being consumed, and the ashes that rose in the sweltering place.

I felt it was enough and left the box wrapping my body in a towel, I walked out of the bathroom holding the bag in which I put all the evidence that could indicate my crime and staining the whole house with blood, I left the bag next to the door entry so you don't forget to take out the trash even without knowing if it's collection day or what day it is.

I walked to the kitchen counter where I used to leave the charger and plugged it in feeling a small shock in my hand and a small red ball instantly appear on the tip of my finger.

The pain didn't bother her anymore, maybe she was the only true companion in all these years. I moved a little to the left opening the fridge door and getting out the orange juice, milk and two eggs. I prepared the frying pan and cracked the eggs, taking a kettle to pass a strained coffee and putting it on the fire, I took a glass and filled it with juice, watching the eggs crack inside the frying pan as the crack of bones breaking filled my mind and ears .

The sound of a car outside didn't surprise me, and when one of the few people with a key to my house entered, the silence fell and the air that came through the door cooled the house.

His eyes searched the house looking for something that would never be there again, understanding seemed to hit his thoughts, watching my small breakfast. His proximity in slow steps was not surprising, but his silence for the first time in his life bothered him.

Eyes as dark as mine, straight hair and neatly trimmed beard set against pale skin, for the first time in my life I understood the darkness in my brother's eyes.

Maybe the worst monsters aren't the ones we create, maybe the worst monsters are just ourselves.

Pulling the drumstick sitting in front of me in deafening silence, I took a deep breath and returned the cup of coffee, I didn't bother with the open entrance door the footsteps of those entering were filling the small room between a sofa and the kitchen.

Stefano made a point of saying that she didn't deserve a big house, that her body would be deformed if she got pregnant, the small house that I learned to hate because it was a prison, the walls a ridiculous color of green, without having the slightest option of redecorating or any shit.

I lifted my head and watched quietly, feeling an incredible calm inside me.

Each look was loaded with a question that I couldn't answer until the hunger was over, and the worst of all, is that this hunger didn't stop the desire to rewind each moment like a movie feeling each sensation. dark eyes, I gave a small smile sensing the monster's desire to boast.

Face to face with my brother without any disappointment about the fate of the man who was my husband, he understood all the lines in the look, words were unnecessary and the sigh when he held my hand was his way of asking 'are you okay?' the rise of my smile joining his equal mine, couldn't give another answer.

Beatrice Costello

My brothers were there for me, the first to speak was always Hunter

"Need help with the cleanup?" His look is careful, concerned.

The green eyes analyzing every exposed part of me made anger fill the chiseled face with square jaw and full mouth.

The decision I made will affect all of us in one way or another, and this is your way of showing your support.

“Just the garbage bag by the door.

He turned and walked to the door taking the bag out of the house, we all silently watched the movement back and forth. Until he was standing next to the workbench again as if waiting for an order or a request.

"Okay, what's the plan?" Jack turned sideways sitting on the sofa now with his body turned towards us asking what was going through everyone's mind.

The dark hair in contrast to our blond ones, the wellshaped face, with full lips and perfect teeth, the slightly crooked nose and the usual sarcastic expression.

"We need a story," Hunter replied without taking his eyes off mine.

— We faked their deaths – Giacomo said and for the first time I looked at everyone there realizing that Bianca was missing.

Why she did it? – I whispered without really wanting confirmation of my thoughts.

"Apparently Stefano wasn't the only one to disrespect an Italian wife," Jack roared. “I had to talk to her so that she could share her death with us, and I found her tied up like an animal in that apartment.

The tension in each of the three's bodies revealed more than words, yet I felt the need to confirm.

"What did you do Jack?" I asked scared afraid that the plan was for the sewer.

"What could a brother do, seeing his own blood like that?" – He snorted – When Salvatore Riina arrived I spent a few hours having fun with him.

You idiot, the soldiers could have seen you entering the building The fear of losing my brother took over me.

Hunter laughed and waved me down, as if it was obvious he wasn't going to let Jack have all the fun for himself.

— I helped the idiot to forge the scene, in the end it will look like it was a coordinated attack so we need to act fast, in a few hours our phones started ringing informing us of Riina's death and Don will order to clean up the city looking for the traitor – He stopped with a sigh.

— We need to be home right now – Giacomo decrees — Don Sartori will probably notify me of Bianca's death personally, as a way of showing his appreciation.

Giacomo is one of Sartori's most trusted men, and he deserves the post. Always hardworking, loyal, being the executor of his Don, never disobeying a single order. The guilt for putting them in a position of betrayal hit my traitorous heart, they are the only family I have and among all possibilities, among all shit to know that we really are a true family, which my brothers never hesitated to follow a dazzling plan to free me and now free Bianca, only made my love and admiration grow.

That loyalty is ours alone, and I doubt anyone else within the Mafia is as loyal as we are to each other.

"I'm causing you to lose the honor of your names." I sighed, knowing this must be like torture for honorable men.

“Don't think about it Beatrice, defending my blood is the only honor I need. Your husband and Bianca's husband should honor them, I won't forgive myself for taking them to the altar and handing them over to these disgraced ones. Giacomo spoke with a tone of regret.

— Besides, the family rule is clear, wives should not be treated that way and Don Sartori certainly knew about the actions of Riina and Stefano, his son and his nephew, the two trained by himself. Jack snorted.

— The rules are for everyone, we're just going to put the house in order, Cosa Nostra is only going to undergo a little cleaning – Hunter smiled darkly and there I understood.

They've been there for me through it all, through all our flaws and over every stupid sibling fight, which for some reason I was sure one of them would end up doing this, killing Stefano Sartori for me.

But she didn't need to be protected, not anymore.

— For all intents and purposes, Bianca died at dawn in an attack, along with her husband Salvatore Riina – Giacomo continued — The poison that Hunter obtained has a twentyfourhour effect, it will feel like a cold body and that's the time we need to do it. the closed casket funeral.

— Enrico should show up here at any moment to announce Bianca's death, the hypothesis of a betrayal will be confirmed when his body is found and not Stefano since only we capos know the addresses of each member – Jack breathed — We need to kill the soldiers who are in security.

The door slammed and in the middle of the warm conversation, surprising us with the unexpected visitor, the soldier's short hair and always wellcomposed suit.

— No need, I've already done that Frank's voice cut the silence, Hunter already had the gun pointed in his direction.

“Why would you do that? – Giacomo questioned the Sartori family soldier.

"Your sister knows why." He stared at me with green eyes.

I discovered his secret a few years ago, the first few days he seemed to expect me to tell Stefano until one of the few times we were alone in the car, I assured him that no one would know.

Apparently, that's his way of retribution.

— Beatrice has my loyalty, if you want to kill me, do it now, but know that you would be a good ally.

I considered the possibilities, I need help, protection and none of my brothers can do that, they won't be able to be available all the time, I don't have the slightest idea of what life is like outside this house or outside the mafia.

They need to show that they are looking for the sisters' killers.

“Hunter has enough poison for Frank too” My brother looked in my direction in exasperation “Frank will come with me.

"Do you trust him?" Jack looked suspicious.

— Yes, and he has no reason to stay, if Don Sartori finds him alive with the disappearance of his son he dies, if he betrays me I'll make sure his secret is discovered, that would lead to his death too – My brothers looked at each other for a few seconds , Hunter lowered the gun.

Frank watched, knowing my every word was a silent threat, just because I was pious once doesn't mean it would be a second, especially given the new life I intend to lead. I give you this chance as a vote of confidence for going to warn Giacomo of my captivity, something I've never had the courage to do in all these years.

I analyzed the whole scene set up by the house with the blood smeared on the hideous green carpet, I stretch out my hand making sure to leave the dirty fingerprints against the wallpaper remembering the nights next to the man I swore to love.

I sigh, turning my face away and finding my brother's fury just the incentive to finally make my voice heard. It's incredible how arrogance blinds men to the point of not realizing that a woman never loses her power, a woman doesn't lose the war, and when she wants to, she's capable of destroying everything.

Beatrice Costello

I can't understand the motives of the faces concerned with how to follow the plan even though I know that declared war at the moment is impossible, the way their eyes analyze my every move is irritating.

Who spread around that women are fragile?

I shake my head, trying to clear the blind irritation that builds in my chest at continuing to be judged by men, when their only use in the world is to be born and raised by the care of women. I am aware of every possible flaw within that plan but right now taking down every deal made is more useful in raising resources than confronting Don.

—The Don won't believe this Beatrice – Giacomo decides to pronounce after his long minutes analyzing my steps — We can get a few months, but at some point Sartori will put two and two together, especially when he only finds Stefano's bones.

It's a valid point, I know that but I can't move the pieces without their support and if you have to appeal to an emotion that no longer exists I don't see any problem.

“I know, I just can't live here, can't stay here anymore. I say, intoning my voice with desperation.

The best lies are always based on the truth, I don't deny for a single moment the fear of losing the opportunity for revenge and the fear of taking the risk of losing them, my family. My legs shake just thinking about that possibility.

Giacomo will make our revenge prosper, the name of the Sartori will be erased I observed Jack's confidence in wanting to avenge our family.

His support being a crucial point in moving Giacomo a little more towards the board rather than feeding his lust for carnage.

“I'll give my life so they can pay, sister. – Giacomo replied hitting the hammer on our destinies he is the only one who can act secretly on both sides, I felt confident with the affirmation in his voice.

The Italian mafia wouldn't accept a woman in charge, even though the bastards deserve to be chained to wooden logs and whipped on their white asses by women to realize how much they're just men, but right now all I want is to be free for the first time in life.

Being able to breathe the air contaminated by their spilled blood and not by my pain reverberating on the walls of this house.

"If you don't make their security work, I'll make sure your body becomes food for the fish myself," Hunter snarled at the soldier, his hands going into his pockets and pulling out a small bottle. “Jack go get another syringe from the car.

Jack left obeying the order, while Hunter my brother took a syringe from his dress pants and filled it with half the liquid in the vial. I analyzed every part of the place, seeing the disposition of the food that I barely touched while still on top of the counter.

"Giacomo, spill that food across the room, make it look like you tried to defend me." He waved, getting up and walking around the counter.

That way the scenario is perfect, the food being thrown and the plate being broken giving the appearance of having been dragged through the small space between the kitchen and the hallway to the bedrooms.

I walked, standing at the exact spot where most of the blood had pooled on the rug when the kicks were too intense for the body to withstand, at that exact moment when Stefano killed the last spark of hope left, Frank is still standing in the middle of the room, I organized my thoughts, taking a deep breath, ready to order, let out the phallus.

“Frank, I need you to punch me.” The man's gaze widens at the same time my brothers stiffen in place, Jack closing the front door with a glare.

I decide to rush the explanation to appease the testosterone radiating the place, it's not like one of the three is able to raise a hand against the little sister so the duty falls to the team's rookie.

“I need my face marked to look real since I'm all bloody and you need to have some mark that shows an attempt at protection.

Hunter arched an eyebrow, Giacomo chuckled, and Jack continued to stare as if seeing a stranger.

"Who are you and what have you done to my sister?"

It's like Jackson is really seeing me for the first time after so many years of being tied down to this marriage sucking every last bit out of my soul. Being half a man in love but not enough, he would never be able to love me enough despite having my heart in his hands, I sigh keeping a straight face.

I present to you the monster forged and created by the Devil himself I opened a smile in the corner.

They finally seem to understand that what Stefano had done to me in recent years was not something so banal, the dedicated, happy and obedient wife at family parties was just a facade. Their gazes meet in silent exchanges that I recognize, even after so long away from each other, not physically, but we were separated by mafia laws, yet, I recognize what is happening in each look.

The empty shell molded to support her needs, the trophy of her conquests to be displayed in public, the marks across my body not visible so no one would suspect that one of the mafia princesses was treated like the poor bastards trafficked into the clubs of the family.

When I looked into the abyss, I fell madly and deeply in love with the executioner of my prison, the executioner of my soul will always be my love and the taste of retribution is still sweet on my lips.

And for the first time in my life the scars will help something, with my bloodstained body the bruises still evident through my white skin will do all the work of looking like an attack, Stefano Sartori's beautiful wife cruelly bruised to the point of not resisting . Too young, without heirs, a regrettable loss for the organization. I wake up from these thoughts with the authoritative voice calling my attention.

"Beatrice, I need you to pay attention!" – Hunter approached with the syringe — This poison will make you pass for dead in the next 24 hours, Bianca has already been like this, for about 5 hours. We need to speed this up, we're going to exchange the bodies for any indigent and we're going to demand the closed casket, you'll wake up at the security location.

— Let's see some things that help you to disguise yourself, New York will only be safe again when we take power, even so, no one can suspect that. Nobody can suspect that you and Bianca are the brains of our family. Giacomo drew a smile from me with his statement.

Jack is good on the streets, Hunter is good at closing deals legal or illegal, and Giacomo has always been the brute force.

Frank snapped out of his inert state, as if he'd finally made the final decision.

— Sorry – The man seems sad to have to comply with the order.

Naked with all the marks exposed by the body, the recent open scars and only a robe covering the nudity.

Darkness has finally kissed my senses like an old friend, isn't it scary especially when you love the darkness of your soul.

My only fear at the moment is that everything could go wrong and my brothers could end up dying because I'm too selfish to keep waiting for Stefano's love to reach its peak to kill me.

Beatrice Costello

I feel like my head can weigh a ton so drugged the almost painful feeling wanting to embrace the darkness again, I end up having terrible difficulty trying to open my eyes with my heavy and inert body. last week, your passionate kisses mixed with the taste of the cigar right after the beating, the firm and harsh words culminating in the abortion, the painful hunger for the blood of the only man I loved and finally the pleasure of seeing his eyes widen in fear and become furious when he found out who his tormentor would be.

The savory taste of our declarations of love as sick as the way I arranged for his death, covering every one of the doubts and fears mixed with the confused feelings trapped in that cell called home, a sweet taste involving my tongue making the monster nourished for so many years finally breaks free, taking his place in the sun claiming ownership of this filthy soul I carry, wanting to expose his exploit to the world the way he wants more blood.

Fear arises from an old friend who confronted hope at every turn, did anyone find out?

Would my brothers be dead by now?

Bianca where are you?

Finally! The sweet voice answered my thoughts and then I opened my eyes.

Bianca, my twin sister with hair as blond as mine, and the dark eyes inherited from our mother shining in the place with a yellowish lighting without being able to hide her beauty. Our souls always so connected talking in silence, doubts so clear and secrets so deeply sealed by our lips in mutual agreement.

— I love you, and I love you even more for having the brilliant idea of dying His irises shine as the laughter reverberates through the place.

And I'm finally able to feel something slamming against my mind, so many sensations blending together, I feel the tears running down my cheeks and for the first time I know it's not from pain or anger, just genuine pleasure in being alive.

We did it? I sighed feeling a lethargy to say maybe an effect of the drug.

Taking a deep breath wanting to get some news from the three fools, the only men I'm now sure ever loved me.

"Not yet." Frank's voice sounded serious, drawing my attention to himself as he turned his face.

I admired the tall man sitting in an armchair next to the bed, his muscular body jutting out from the small seat while his strong arms being displayed by the sleeveless shirt with a steady green gaze, armed with doubts. He understood the silent questions breaking the expectation with the firm voice.

“Your brothers need to take down the Sartori so we can breathe in peace.” His statement made memories rush through my mind.

I turned my eyes to the ceiling of what appears to be a small apartment, the plaster of the room half moldy amidst walls with a worn and dirty wallpaper, I took a long breath to be able to answer.

— We need to help them somehow, I can't bear to know that they died because of my selfishness.

Yes, my selfishness is the cause of our being here in the same way that destiny linked to a family like mine was the reason for being Stefano's wife after all, that's why I was born to serve my husband and I still failed. A flaw within the mafia's perfect organization, something completely intolerable that must be sending Donatella Costello shivers down her toes.

Bianca, in the middle of the parallel conversation, seemed to understand the distress gnawing at my chest, folding her body over mine and resting her hand on my left cheek.

— I don't know how I can help, until two days ago I was just a trophy wife – She sighed — Yes, I know, you fainted a day too much, I almost went crazy thinking you might have died.

The caress of his hand hit a sensitive part, which must be a bruise from the punch.

— The two can start helping if they change faces – Frank snorted — The problem is if they discover the plan, then they'll catch us here, otherwise the two can stay living here.

The harsh words are the reality, but this soldier's plan didn't seem to please my sister, nor is it my goal, not after tasting death between my fingers savoring every moment of that hold's cruelty.

I need to find a way to make the De Angelis turn against Don Sartori, the two biggest families will kill each other to make way for the traditional Costello family, now reduced to three members. It's a simple way to sum up everything I want most.

I have the notion that Bianca attended all parties accompanied by Riina to be shown off like a perfect doll, while she only went to parties in the very rare moments when Stefano declared that she had behaved well, she must know about single girls who can close agreements by marrying our brothers.

It's their destiny, and honestly, I don't feel the least bit guilty, as Jack had said: They follow family rules, honoring their wives.

My brothers would not be like Riina or Sartori, the future of the family and that thought brought a smile to my aching face.

Bianca watched as if she wanted to discover my thoughts, but I didn't try to hide them.

— I need black ink, blue ink, scissors and some pink ink too – Frank raised an eyebrow — We'll need new documents, maybe Jack has already provided.

Frank huffed as if he was having a nervous breakdown keeping his face in a contortion of lips letting silence prevail in the room.

Bianca and I were waiting for the man to fall hard to the ground, but he just got up, finally getting rid of his disgust and exasperation.

— Ah Beatrice Costello, it's not possible that you don't know – He said it as if it were obvious – Let's play it cool since we're in the same boat.

I nodded, becoming completely curious as he calmed himself down by sitting back in the chair, I swung my feet off the bed, taking in the flawed hardwood floor and worn wallpaper next to a small window to the side.

— What you and Bianca have in beauty, your brothers have in muscles, the Costello family should have at least run for the chair of Consiglieri and not even that your father, before he died, tried to do. – He stopped in an impressively dramatic way – Because he didn't want to tarnish the family name with the intelligence of his brothers.

And it was at that point that Frank won me over, the soldier ripped out an almost infinite laugh with his sincerity, I felt my eyes watering with laughter and my cheeks hurting. I don't make a point of refuting or clarifying certain details about your speech, some things deserve to remain buried with our parents. I looked at Bianca who seems to be desperate to find out that our brothers are stupid, but this is nothing new. Not even for her.

Now, if Giacomo had had an ounce of intelligence, I wouldn't have married Sartori but De Angelis, it would have been more profitable for the Costello cocaine trade to have joined a family that has great distribution power.

Soon the soldier and my sister seemed ecstatic with my burst of laughter.

— Tell me something new Frank, that I know. I said trying to control my breathing, wiping the tears that ran down my aching cheeks. "Do you really think that when Giacomo offered to kill Stefano, my beautiful beauty wouldn't have already planned everything?"

I kept laughing and realizing that fools didn't understand, a woman always discredited, her voice not heard and her presence dismissed in front of business. Donatella and Antonio didn't just raise my brothers, they raised me too, they instilled at every precise point what it means to be a Costello and that's the kind of lesson you don't forget.

Beatrice Costello

They don't expect a woman to be the mind behind the game, what they don't know is that we women act like snakes waiting for the moment to pounce. My husband, may he burn brightly in hell, believed this wholeheartedly and is now dead, I doubt there was ever a moment that even crossed his diabolical mind that I would be holding a knife and gouging out one of his eyes.

And my moment has finally arrived, for those who wait amidst the storm, glory arrives bringing new challenges and those I'm ready to kill one by one.

Well, nobody expects anything from a wife or a whore, as my late husband liked to call it I take a deep breath thinking about how to explain in a simple way everything that happened in that basement when my brother found me.

I saw a glass of water on the bedside table beside me and I drank it, using the water to organize my thoughts, calmly thinking about what I can say at this moment, how the pieces will start to move in our favor.

— Giacomo wanted to go after Sartori with the excuse that he had dishonored his wife, but let's be convenient, this type of punishment is only given with the support of the Don — I took a deep breath — Besides, I wouldn't get rid of him. She would continue to be held in jail or perhaps worse.

I ran my hand through my hair and Bianca offered me a barrette, which I gladly accepted given the heat in the stuffy room, winding the long golden locks into a bun on top of my head.

"Beatrice, what did you do?"

I understood my sister, in a few days I had become someone else or returned to my origins. Embraced by a part that only existed in my most beautiful dreams, Stefano died in them.

I smiled at the thought, pride in the cruel and perverse act reverberating like a first place medal stamped across the middle of my chest, I confessed.

— I planned, organized and disemboweled my husband – The smile only grew at the memory of the viscera falling to the floor.

In their astonished faces watching the little monster that Stefano nurtured in these years only made sure who one day was Beatrice Costello Sartori died, there is no guilt on my face, because there would never be a drop of regret inside what was left, what he left with his damn manipulative blue eyes. In that empty shell, which I still feed the biting thoughts, there is no empathy.

“Anyway, while Giacomo was trying to convince me he should kill Stefano, I made the plan. – I stopped without paying attention to their expressions, I saw the silence as an incentive to continue — Jack must have already provided the documents, that's what I ordered him and the reason for not being here yet, may be because I had to include one more batch of documents. false documents that was not planned.

I faced Frank who absorbed the information faster than Bianca.

— Whoa! He exclaimed: What are the orders, ladies?

I ignored the sarcastic tone as I walked over to the window that overlooks one of Fort George's most forgotten neighborhoods. Hunter's apartment was supposed to be for conducting business with those who wanted to supply the drugs, the best place to hide would always be under men's noses and close enough to slit their throats. I didn't play misunderstood, I just let go of what was necessary.

First Bianca, get a paper and a pen, make an order of the single women and which families they belong to, if to live my freedom my brothers needed to earn their handcuffs, that's what they will do I looked over my shoulder seeing the soldier disbelieving — This is going to be how they will pay for ignoring me for the last seven years Frank.

I exclaimed looking at how our steps will be until they rise within the family, until we have a way of walking the streets without fear of being recognized.

"Fair enough, they never listened to you and now they obey or go to the ditch, because that's what will happen if Don Sartori finds out about this." replied firmly

Bianca returned to the bedroom with a crumpled pad and a crumbling pen.

It was what he had He justified himself.

“Giacomo is a trusted man for the Don, we'll exploit that loophole so he'll cede some land as a reward for loyalty in the midst of mourning.

“You know that old man is like a fox.

"And I'm a very venomous snake, Frank, and you know how a snake can swallow a fox?"

He smiled in agreement and my sister seemed lost in the middle of the conversation until she went back to writing on the small pad.

“Overall, what you two need to know right away, let's frame the De Angelis. It's the two biggest families with the biggest possessions, pitted against each other, Don Sartori will start a witch hunt within the family.

"While he's busy, we buy time," Frank added.

An effective way to organize the board while your opponent spends time thinking about their next move.

"But how are we going to do that?" I smiled at Bianca's curiosity.

“The Sartori family only had one heir, Stefano, and thanks to him, the Don doesn't have any grandchildren to try to fill the chair in a few years.

“That makes room for the secondlargest family with initiated heirs to try to fill the vacancy...

Frank once again followed my line of reasoning acting as a perfect right arm, making My sister alternate her eyes between us trying to assimilate what we said.

— In the family we keep our friends close and our enemies even closer, the greatest beneficiaries of Stefano's death would be the De Angelis brothers. – I watched some addicts in the alley rushing to consume their drugs –We, the Costellos, would have nothing to gain from his death and from our death, it's as if our brothers lost their strength.

We were the big names within the organization leveraging the rest of the family just because of our obligation to be the trophy of those two wealthy imbeciles for being the heirs.

“So we're in Beatrice's way.

The soldier chuckled as he watched my innocent sister.

“Bianca, think of it as going back one square before checkmate.

I silently agreed with the soldier, knowing it had been a good choice to bring him along.

I moved away from the window that faced the alley and opened the door, taking in the small apartment, worn and full of mold, a sofa in the center of the room as dirty as the floor.

Hmmmfffff, five days and he hasn't thought to do a cleanup .

I rolled my eyes, imagining how Bianca would be happy to use one of our brothers' cards indiscriminately, but that would have to wait for Hunter, he's the only one who can make it to this side of New York without arousing suspicion.

I walked through the destroyed room with the even more worn wallpaper and the worn floor entering a small kitchen I opened the fridge the only thing that seems to be new around here, and at least that's what the three of them had thought.

The food will last for at least a week, enough time to provide the missing documents and to lessen their 'mourning', freeing them from the obligation to remain 24 hours a day in search of those responsible for our death.

“Beatrice, all the names are here.

“Fine, throw the block on this counter and let's get this crap out of the way.” I sighed, slamming the fridge door shut.

"How are we going to manage?" – She looked at me suspiciously – No one can know we're alive, I can't call Antonella.

Frank's laughter filled the room.

“I hope you're starting to get used to not having maids, Bianca.” My sister looked in shock as the soldier snickered behind her.

“You too, soldier, stop laughing at my sister's discoveries about poverty and get a bucket to help.

He crossed the room and walked past me towards a small door at the end of the kitchen. released the obvious

— You know she's not going to be very useful in this cleaning, right – He rolled his eyes — Look at the desperation, it's making me feel sorry.

I smiled dismissing the man with my hand, Bianca would have to get used to the new life it was that or death.