Chapter 092

Matteo's Pov

A few days later.

Blood has always been a constant factor in my life. From the earliest years of my life that I can remember, up until now, it has never been unknown to me.

Shedding and spilling blood whenever I see fit has become a part of me, and I've learned to welcome it with open arms.

And I don’t just welcome it unwillingly, I am so willing to do whatever it takes to spill as much blood as I can. It’s an act which I enjoy so much so I don’t feel at ease when I haven’t indulged.

My hands are bloody, my eyes tightly narrowed, bottom lip caught between my teeth as I stare at my wife’s father in contemplation.

The old man is on the floor, several parts of his body bleeding out, his throat eliciting pained and sorrowful whimpers, and his eyes rolling to the back of his head—an indication that he’s slowly drifting into the depths of darkness. Death.

“Fuck,” I whisper frustratedly, my gaze shifting from the old man to Alessio who also has a regretful expression etched on hi