Sold to the Capo-Chapter 126: A SHOT

ADRIANA’S POV

My hand shook, and I gripped the gun tighter, my knuckles turning white. The weight of the cold metal pressed against my palm, but it was nothing compared to the crushing weight in my chest.

It felt like someone had ripped my heart of of my chest and was gently crushing it so I could feel the pain over.

"No," I rasped, shaking my head violently. "I—I can’t."

My father or whatever the fuck he was let out a low chuckle, stepping back as if my torment was some kind of entertainment to him. "Of course you can, sweetheart. You just don’t want to."

"Please," I turned to him, my voice cracking. "Please, don’t make me do this. Don’t—"

Julius sighed dramatically, clicking his tongue as he picked up the blowtorch again. "You’re wasting time, princess."

He flicked the flame to life.

"No," I breathed out in horror. "Please—"

But he didn’t stop. My eyes widened in horror and I stifled a scream, feeling a bead of sweat roll down the side of my head.

The flame kissed Vincenzo’s already raw, blistered skin, and this time, he gritted his teeth so hard I could hear the grinding sound over his strangled groan. His body convulsed in pain, his muscles jerking against the restraints.

"STOP IT!" I screamed, my throat burning. "STOP, STOP, STOP!"

Julius didn’t even look at me. "Put him out of his misery, Adriana." He pressed the fire into Vincenzo’s skin again.

Vincenzo finally let out a low, guttural sound—one of pain, of pure agony—and it shattered something inside me.

A scream ripped out of my throat. I couldn’t help it, he couldn’t hold in the pain anymore.

"I CAN’T!" I sobbed, pressing my forehead against the gun, as if I could will it out of existence. "I CAN’T DO THIS!"

"Oh, but you can," Rossi murmured from behind me, his voice laced with something sinister. "You just need the right motivation."

Julius twisted the blowtorch closer to Vincenzo’s exposed stomach, his grin widening. "I’ll keep going, princess. Every second you hesitate, every tear you shed, I’ll make sure he suffers."

Vincenzo coughed, his body trembling, blood dripping from his lips. His head lolled slightly, his breathing ragged.

"T-Tesoro..." His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. "Please... just do it. Don’t do this to yourself."

But how could I? How could I kill the one man that mattered to me?

Julius grabbed a knife from the table and dragged the blade across Vincenzo’s cheek, slow and deliberate. A thin line of crimson welled up, trailing down his already bloodied face.

I shut my eyes.

I couldn’t do this.

I couldn’t watch.

"Open your eyes," my father’s voice ordered, sharp and cold.

I clenched them tighter.

A sickening crack echoed through the room, followed by a low, pained groan from Vincenzo.

"Did you just break his finger?" Julius asked, amused.

"Maybe." Rossi sounded bored. "Maybe I’ll break them all before she grows a spine."

I gasped, my eyes snapping open in horror.

Vincenzo’s fingers were twisted at an unnatural angle.

"Oh god," I choked, bile rising in my throat.

Julius smirked, leaning in close to Vincenzo’s ear. "You still wanna play the hero?"

Vincenzo spat blood at him.

Julius’ expression darkened. "Wrong answer."

He slammed his fist into Vincenzo’s gut.

Vincenzo finally let out a sharp cry.

And I broke.

"STOP!" I shrieked, my entire body convulsing with sobs. "PLEASE! I’LL— I’LL DO ANYTHING, JUST STOP!"

My father tilted his head, his smirk growing. "Anything?"

I nodded frantically, my hands trembling so hard the gun nearly slipped from my grip. "Yes. Yes, anything. Just don’t—don’t hurt him anymore."

Rossi hummed, stepping toward me. "You love him, don’t you?"

I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t.

Julius sneered. "Cute."

Rossi leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Then let me tell you a little secret, sweetheart."

My chest rose and fell rapidly, panic clawing up my throat.

He smiled, but it wasn’t kind. It was cruel. "Vincenzo isn’t as innocent as you think."

My breath caught.

"He’s the reason your first love died."

The words crashed into me like a freight train.

For a moment, I just stared at him, my brain refusing to process.

"What? Aiden?" My voice barely came out, just a breath.

Rossi’s smirk deepened. "Your little love story back in New York? The boy you thought you’d spend your life with?" He tsked, shaking his head. "Vincenzo put him in the ground."

A sharp, suffocating pain bloomed in my chest.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head desperately. "No. That’s not true."

"It is."

My stomach twisted. I turned to Vincenzo, my eyes wide, pleading. "Tell him he’s lying," I begged, my voice breaking. "Tell him he’s—"

Vincenzo was silent.

Too silent.

His breathing was labored, his body slumped in the chair, but his eyes...

His eyes told me everything.

He wasn’t denying it.

My blood ran ice cold.

"No." I shook my head harder, my vision spinning. "No, no, no—"

Vincenzo coughed, blood trickling down his chin. His lips parted, and I clung to the last shred of hope that he would refute it, that he would call my father a liar.

But then he whispered, "...I’m sorry."

The world tilted. I stumbled back, my knees buckling. My heart clenched so painfully I thought it would stop beating altogether.

He wasn’t lying.

Oh, God.

He wasn’t lying.

I let out a ragged breath, my hands shaking so violently that the gun nearly slipped from my grip.

"You... you did it?" My voice was barely a whisper. "You killed him?"

Vincenzo squeezed his eyes shut, his entire body shaking with exhaustion. "...Yes."

A strangled sob burst from my throat.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t think.

The boy I had once loved, the one who had been my safe place... was gone. Because of Vincenzo. Vincenzo managed to take one more thing from me.

A broken sound escaped me as I staggered back. My stomach lurched, my vision swimming.

"Rossi," Julius said, his voice filled with amusement. "I think she’s gonna faint."

But I couldn’t faint.

Because the gun was still in my hand.

And Vincenzo was still looking at me, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t bear to see.

Regret.

Guilt.

Love.

And worst of all—acceptance.

He was ready to die by my hands.

Tears streamed down my face.

"Go on, sweetheart." My father’s voice was like a snake coiling around my throat. "Pull the trigger."

"Go on, tesoro." His voice was low, almost tender, as if he were inviting me to do it. "End this. If that’s what you truly want."

I sucked in a sharp breath, my grip tightening on the gun.

"Shut up," I snapped, my throat tight. "You don’t get to call me that anymore."

His lips curved into a sad smile, one that made something inside me twist violently. He wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t begging for his life. He was ready.

"Adriana," he murmured, his voice carrying that dangerous gentleness that had once made me fall for him. "I don’t regret it."

A sharp breath hitched in my throat.

He spat out blood before looking at me, the look in his eyes daring me to pull the trigger.

"I don’t regret killing him," he continued, his gaze never wavering. "Because that man—he would have hurt you. Worse than you can imagine. He didn’t love you. He didn’t deserve you."

My heart pounded violently against my ribs.

Lies. They had to be lies.

"That’s not for you to decide!" I choked, my vision blurring with tears I refused to shed. "You don’t get to take a life and tell me it was for me! You don’t get to choose who lives or dies!"

"I would do it again," he said simply. "Even knowing this is how it ends."

My stomach twisted, a scream lodged in my throat.

He loved me. I could see it, hear it, feel it in the way he said my name. But that didn’t erase the blood on his hands. It didn’t bring back what he took from me.

I swallowed hard, my finger trembling against the trigger.

"Pull it," he whispered.

My breath came in ragged gasps. My vision blurred.

Do it, Adriana. Do it.

"Adriana..." His voice was softer now, almost pleading. "If this is what you need, then do it."

We had come to this point again. This was the second time that I had a gun to his head but this time, it wasn’t a mistake.

I didn’t want to shoot him, I didn’t want to kill him, I would rather very much put a bullet through my skull but I knew that these men here would kill us both if I didn’t. Hearing about what Vincenzo did had weakened me and a part of me wondered... he had kept things away from me yet I opened up to him hoping that he was doing the same. He knew my supposed father was alive but he didn’t tell me, he killed someone from my past life. The two points made my knees buckle and my finger around the trigger tighten.

I shut my eyes.

For a split second, everything went silent.

Then—

I pulled the trigger.