Chapter 87
Caterina
Mario’s blood was on my skin, barely dry when Malachi showed up to the restaurant. Harlow was standing tall by my side, a fierce queen. Even on the verge of falling apart, she kept herself together. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she broke. I would have been there to catch her when she fell.
I shouldn’t have killed Mario here, but the rage inside me took over.
He lied to my face. Even if I never met Harlow or fell in love with her, he still stabbed me in the back.
He betrayed my family, shattered whatever bond we had in an instant.
I thought I felt rage before, but the feelings I felt now were nothing compared to the emotions in the past. When it came to Vincenzo, I hated him—but he wasn’t by my side, pretending to be my friend, while lying to my face and stabbing me in the back.
“Are you okay?” Harlow whispered.
She was asking me if I was okay when she came face-to-face with another man who brutalized her. I knew the chance of seeing someone in person again wouldn’t be rare because of what she told me, but I never expected Mario to be one. Harlow was comforting me when I should be comforting her.
“I’m…” I didn’t have an answer. One of my closest friends paid my enemy to abuse and rape my wife. I didn’t know how I would deal with this. I’d known grief and betrayal, but never to this extent.
“It’s okay to be hurt,” she said. “You don’t have to be strong for me. We can fall apart together.”
And as if it triggered a dam to bust, tears slipped from my eyes.
It wasn’t the Earth-shattering sobbing I needed, but it was enough to show I was in fact human.
“He raped you. He betrayed my family. He said he was my best friend, and he paid the man who killed my mother for you. I helped him. I loved him.”
Harlow caressed my face, wiping the tears. “I know. And I am so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for his actions.”
She smiled, pressing her forehead to mine. “I’m not apologizing for him. This is me. I’m sorry you lost a friend because of me.”
“Harlow, I didn’t lose anything because of you. The only people who matter most to me are you and my family. Mario is nothing. I told you once, and I am telling you again: I will kill every man that touched you. He signed his death certificate the moment he got in bed with Vincenzo.”
“I love you.”
“And I love you. More than anything.”
My father was the first one to know what I did after Malachi, and he called Commissioner Blackwell. I killed him in a public place with other people around. It was out of anger and impulse, something my father told me never to do, but I refused to let him walk.
“I’ll deal with whatever the consequence is,” I started as I adjusted my jacket on my arms. “He raped my wife. I wasn’t going to let him live.”
“I’ll deal with it,” Commissioner Blackwell said.
He and my father were close friends, and my dad helped him get elected and out of a financial bind during his election.
My father didn’t give a shit about politics, but in this life, it was beneficial to have political allies. “Go home with your wife.”
I took Harlow’s hand and we went to the elevator.
My father agreed to keep Serenity for one more night if we needed it, but I think we were okay.
This didn’t weaken our relationship, if anything, we’re stronger.
Mario thought he would put a rift between us.
I saw it. The realization when he remembered her, the fear in Harlow’s eyes, and then he called her a whore. No one called my wife a whore.
“Are we okay?” Harlow asked.
“We are more than okay. I promise. I’m still processing.”