Chapter 18 #2
"You sold her to me because you valued yourself more than her, you always have, you fucking selfish piece of shit.”
“You put me in an impossible decision,” he argues.
“Maybe I did, but then …” My eyes narrow “You didn’t leave her alone, no, you fucking sold her again.
To the one man in the world who would cut her open to get to me.
" I grab his jaw and force him to look at Summer, wrapped in my bloody jacket, cuts crusting on her skin.
"Look at her, look at what you did to your own daughter. "
He starts crying, but it’s not because of what that animal did to my wife, no, it’s because he knows he can’t save himself anymore.
"I'm sorry," he sobs. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry …"
“No, you’re not.” I don’t hesitate because I don’t give a shit about the whys. One shot. Clean. Between the eyes. He drops sideways, and I don't look at him again.
Storm doesn't cry, he just stares at his father's body, and then he looks at me with what looks to be acceptance or maybe spite.
"You think she'll forgive you for this?" he asks. "Killing her family in front of her?"
I look back at Summer, she's watching, face blank, tears running silently down her cheeks, but she doesn't look away.
“Why don’t you ask her?” I say. “Hey, babe, do you forgive me for this?”
Her eyes look up at me. She’s still fragile, but I see that steel spine kick in.
“I do.”
Then I turn back and smirk at Storm, and as much as I want to drag this shit out because this fucker deserves it, I don’t. Quickly, before he even realizes, I put a bullet through him. His eyes widen in surprise before he crumples to the ground.
I wipe my hands on my pants and walk back to Summer. I kneel in front of her and take her hands in mine, her small, bruised fingers wrapped in my bloody ones.
"It's done," I say.
She looks at me for a long time, the cuts on her face, the split lip, the circles under her eyes. The girl who was drugged, chained, and sold by her own family is looking at the man who just killed them for it.
"Thank you, now take me home," she whispers.
I lift her into my arms and carry her back through the corridor, past the bodies, up the stairs, via the kitchen, and out into the night air.
The estate is chaos behind us, sirens in the distance, the sharp smell of smoke from somewhere on the property, but I don't look back. I don’t care.
I have everything I want and need in my arms.
She presses her face into my neck. Her breath is warm against my skin, and she whispers so softly I almost miss it. "I love you."
Fuck.
I hold her tighter and walk faster.
"I love you too, baby. You're safe. You're mine. And nobody is ever taking you from me again."
One week later.
Summer is asleep in our bed. She sleeps a lot now.
The doctor says it's her body healing, processing the trauma, and the drugs still working their way out of her system.
The cuts are closing, but they'll scar. Every time I see them, I have to leave the room and put my fist through something that isn't a wall near her.
I haven't left the island since we got back. I haven't left her side for more than an hour. She wakes up screaming most nights, and I hold her until her breathing slows and she finds me in the dark and realizes she's not in that basement anymore.
Castellano disappeared on the night of the gala. His security detail pulled him out through a service tunnel beneath the east wing while my men were clearing the upper floors. By the time Andreas confirmed he wasn't among the bodies, we were already airborne.
I gave Andreas one instruction before we took off. Find him. I don't care how long it takes. I don't care what it costs. Find him and make sure there's nothing left to bury.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I check on Summer, she's still out, her hand curled under the pillow, her breathing steady. I take the phone and step out onto the balcony, pulling the door closed behind me.
"It's done." Andreas's voice is flat and tired, like a man who hasn't slept in days.
"Tell me."
"Tracked him to a safe house outside the city. A warehouse in the industrial district, registered under a shell company, three layers deep. He had eight men with him, all private military, same as the crew from the gala."
"And?"
"We hit it at four a.m. Breached the perimeter, took out the guards on the ground level, then wired the building. C4 on the support columns and under the foundation. Castellano was on the second floor when it went."
I stare out at the ocean, the moonlight flat on the water.
"He's confirmed?"
"We pulled dental records from what was left of the structure. It's him. There's nothing to identify visually, the blast saw to that, but we confirmed it through his dentist's office. It's done, boss. Victor Castellano doesn't exist anymore."
I close my eyes. The image of Summer hanging from that hook, the cuts on her skin, the white dress soaked dark.
"The men?"
"All eight went with the building. There are no survivors, no witnesses. Local authorities are calling it a gas leak."
"Good.”
I hang up without saying goodbye. I stand on the balcony for a long time, the warm air on my skin, the sound of the waves below.
Then I go back inside and climb into bed next to my wife.
She stirs when I pull her against me, her back to my chest, my arm around her waist, careful to avoid the bandages on her ribs.
"Kairo?" she murmurs, half asleep.
"I'm here, baby. Go back to sleep."
Her fingers find mine and lace through them. She pulls my hand up against her chest and holds it there.
"Was that your phone?" she whispers.
"Yeah."
"Everything okay?"
I press my lips to the back of her neck and breathe her in.
"Everything's okay. It's over. All of it."
She's quiet for a moment, and I think she's fallen back asleep. Then she squeezes my hand.
"Good."
She doesn't ask what happened. She doesn't need to. She knows who I am and what I do, and she chose me anyway.
I hold her tighter and listen to her breathing slow until she's under again.
It's over.
She's safe, and she's mine.
And I will burn the entire world down before I ever let anyone touch her again.