"Truth is always paradoxical."
Vincent was paralyzed with fear, unable to move, his wide eyes locked with Kyle's.
A murderer stood before him, treading lightly, a twisted smile playing on his lips. The crowbar in Kyle's hand swung back and forth like a pendulum of doom, its menacing arc matching the unsteady rhythm of Vincent's breath.
Behind him, the sound of blood dripping from the severed neck of the woman into a metal drum echoed in the tense silence, an unrelenting reminder of her grisly fate.
Kyle's voice, cold and sharp, shattered the stillness. "Who the fuck are you, mister?"
Vincent refused to answer, his gaze darting around the room in search of a weapon, any lifeline to stave off the inevitable.
Kyle's tone grew more menacing. "Don't make me repeat myself!"
He stepped closer, the crowbar rising ominously. His voice was deliberate now, each word punctuated with malice.
"Who."
"The."
"Fuck."
"Are—"
Kyle swung the crowbar toward Vincent's neck.
Vincent, staring unflinchingly into Kyle's eyes, finally spoke, his voice steady but faint.
"I knew Emily."
Kyle froze mid-swing. His face contorted in a bizarre mixture of disbelief and fury.
"You… you knew Emily?"
Kyle's demeanor shifted violently—distraught one moment, seething the next. He shoved Vincent to the floor, pinning him with the crowbar across his neck.
"What do you mean by that? Did they send you for her? I'll kill every last one of you bastards, I swear it!"
The pressure on Vincent's throat was unbearable. Struggling for air, he reached for the container nearby, inching it closer. With a last-ditch effort, he threw a punch at Kyle, missing wildly.
Kyle's grip tightened. Vincent's lungs screamed for air, his vision darkening. His father's final words echoed in his mind: "Run!"
But this time, something inside Vincent snapped. His father's words twisted into defiance.
"No!" he roared.
The shout startled Kyle just enough to loosen his grip. With a desperate kick, Vincent struck the base of the container. It tipped, crashing to the floor, spilling its gruesome contents. Blood splattered across Kyle's body.
The sudden release of pressure allowed Vincent to gasp for air.
Drenched in blood, both men staggered to their feet. Vincent's fist found its target, landing squarely on Kyle's jaw. Kyle stumbled backward, collapsing against the overturned container.
Vincent stood over him, his voice a low growl. "Vincent Walker. That's who the fuck I am."
Vincent lunged, delivering a barrage of punches. Kyle barely managed to shield his head, blocking strike after strike. Desperate, he lashed out with an elbow, connecting with Vincent's temple.
The blow knocked Vincent off balance, giving Kyle a chance to shove him aside. Both men, battered and bloodied, rose slowly. Between them, the headless corpse swayed on its hook like a macabre pendulum.
Kyle's voice broke the silence. "I don't know who you are. Did the Camorra send you? You don't seem like a Crow."
Vincent, his breath heavy, locked eyes with Kyle. "Your wife hired me to investigate your affair."
Kyle's face twisted with shock and confusion. "Affair? What the hell are you talking about? With whom?"
"Emily came to my office," Vincent said, his voice steady despite the chaos around him. "She was convinced you were cheating on her. She paid me to investigate upon you."
Vincent gestured toward the mutilated body. "I found you with this woman at the bank. When I went to inform Emily, I found her dead—no clues, no trail, nothing."
Kyle fell to his knees, his anguish spilling out as tears. "Patricia," he whispered. "That was her name. I killed her… for Emily."
Vincent frowned, his confusion evident. "What do you mean, 'for Emily'? What the hell are you talking about?"
Kyle stared at Patricia's severed head. "Patricia crossed the Camorra. The familia doesn't forgive."
Vincent's brow furrowed. "The Camorra?"
Kyle nodded, his voice trembling. "The Camorra rules Naples. Their reach extends everywhere. I was part of their assassination squad—the Corvi Neri. The Black Crows."
He paused, as if the confession itself drained him. "Killing was all I knew. Until Emily."
Kyle's gaze hardened. "Patricia embezzled funds from the familia. They sent me here to eliminate her. They called it a Blood Eclipse." He gestured to the headless body hung upside-down.
Vincent spat at him, his disgust plain. "You're lower than scum. Killing her wasn't enough? You had to humiliate her, too? For what? Petty theft?"
Kyle's voice cracked as he defended himself. "I didn't choose this life! I was born into it. Emily… she made me want to change. But when Patricia resurfaced, the familia threatened to kill Emily if I didn't finish the job in the way requested by the familia."
Kyle's voice broke as he continued. "I completed the task. But they killed Emily. Why? She was innocent! A PURE SOUL WHO KNEW NOTHING"
Vincent stood silent, his rage tempered by a flicker of understanding. Finally, he turned to leave, stopping at the door.
"Emily died thinking you were cheating on her," he said, his voice cold. "The lie she believed was kinder than your truth."
Vincent glanced at him turning his head just enough to get a look at Kyle standing on the blood of his victim.
"Why did you smile when you saw me?"
Kyle responded "I was sure that I found the person who killed my wife. I was sure that you were one of Corvi Neri. I have lost my reason to live this pitiful life but I am not resting till I find who killed Emily, all I wanted was a peaceful life with my wife."
Vincent took a deep breath as he strides towards the staircase. Kyle looks at him wondering his next move.
Vincent pauses again before climbing the staircase.
"I still don't like you Kyle or whatever your real name might be. Find the killer of your wife as you must and I will do the same. It's your choice to either help me or not, my resolve won't budge a bit."
Kyle follows Vincent with no hesitation and stands beside him.
"I will take any help I can get to find the fucker who killed my love."
Vincent began his ascent, each step deliberate and heavy with purpose.
"Where are we going?" Kyle asks.
Vincent ascended the stairs, his tone resolute. "To the place where we'll find answers." He glanced over his shoulder. "Italy."