51. Ara
Ican’t breathe. This thing I’ve dreamt about for all these years and the devil reincarnated is handing it to me on a silver platter. I know Luca better than that by now. I know there’s strings attached.
“What makes you think I need your help,” I whisper breathlessly. He’s so close now. He could turn this gun on me in a heartbeat. I’m entranced by him and confused by the enjoyment he seems to be getting from it.
He’s behind me now, his breath a hot flush along my neck. He’s taking my attention away from Ivan. Consuming the space like he always does so I can only see him. “Aren’t you grateful to me, sweetheart, for bringing him to you like this? Aren’t there ways you think you can thank me?”
His hands coil around my waist from behind, pulling me into him. My arms are raised in front but his sheer size towers over me from behind as his hands slowly trail down my arms leading towards the gun. My heart and body pump with adrenaline.
“Aren’t you going to kill me after this?” I ask.
“Only if you’re a bad girl,” he chastises. “Or you and I can have our own agreement and contract put into place and I might be so gracious as to spare you.”
My heart skips a beat. I don’t like the lethal edge to his tone.
“I can show you all parts of the world. Set you free from your father’s grasp. Show you your heritage when your father only tried to snuff it out.”
My heart is fluttering on that last promise. I always wondered if I had other family. Always wanted to go to the place my mother was raised. Now with this knowledge, I could find it all on my own after my father pays his price.
It took me years of slow calculation to spin everything into place. Pretending to be the obedient daughter all so I could squirm through his companies and integrate myself into everything. In a clean sweep his world will come crashing down and he’ll find himself in prison for all the underhanded deals he’s made. As for me well I’m the beneficiary of course. There were some crueler fates than death. And I was happy to be the dealer of misfortune and misery.
“What if I can do that all on my own?” I ask disturbed by how his dangerous touch kisses marks all down my arms. My body anticipates his bruising punishments.
“Or what if you stop being so defiant and admit your connection to me. You and I aren’t so different, sweetheart. I’m offering you the world if you’ll just stand by my side.”
A cold shudder runs through me as he kisses the spot behind my ear. “Why are you fucking with me like this? Does your cruelty have no bounds?”
His hands encompass mine now, his finger kneading mine against the trigger.
“Not when it comes to you. I’ve hardly had enough of destroying you, Ara Barone. So what do you say? Will you become my wife?”
A crazed laugh bubbles to the surface because this is all too much. A twisted, dark end. Or beginning. One thing I know about Luca Armani is he’s deadly serious.
I’m left balancing between the chance of a new beginning and leaving the old behind. But without this hateful vengeance directing me I don’t know what else I have to live for.
It’s preposterous. Nobody should be able to love my black twisted heart any more than someone should be attracted to the likes of someone like Luca Armani.
Fuck me, isn’t that why it works? I want to push that meddling voice away. That sick twisted tug of hope.
I don’t deserve happiness.
I don’t deserve him.
My attention is back to Ivan the man who snuffed out any time of happiness I might’ve once had. After this, even after I put a bullet in his head… how long was I willing to blame him for this. In his death and freeing my mother, didn’t I have to try to step forward if the devil was offering me an out?
“Are you having second thoughts about your vengeance?” Luca asks curiously from behind.
“No,” I say as I embrace all of the years I searched for this man. All the years I devoted my life in the name of my mother. I stare into his cold black eyes that look no different to the stare he gave me all those years ago. I had the scar to prove it.
But he had let me live.
That was his mistake.
“Not everyone is born a killer, sweetheart. I can do it for you if you want?”
Bang. My finger presses the trigger of its own accord.
It happens so quickly I’m reeling with the devastation.
Ivan slumps into his chair a bullseye shot to the head. My heart’s pounding amidst the eerie silence. Suddenly I feel alone again. Tears stream down my face uncontrollably as I’m reminded of my mother. Her body limp, and me sitting next to her screaming for her to wake up. Knowing she never does.
She left me alone and now the only thing I had left was to follow her, to fight for her, when no one else did—was gone. Adrenaline is coursing through me as Luca steps around to face me front on. As much as I’ve hated him all these years I can’t seem to look away from Ivan’s body. Yet somehow it still feels like he has power over me. Like this still isn’t enough. Because it still doesn’t bring her back.
Luca forces me to look at him by angling my chin in his direction.
He wipes the streaming tears from my eyes. “Don’t ever let anyone else see you like this. Only me.”
My eyes well even more because I never have. When I was a child, and I cried for nights on end for my mother, my father threw me to psychologists to study me like a lab rat. I realized quickly it was only seen as a weakness that was punishable. Yet in front of Luca, the last person I should show this to, I can’t help but crumble.
Slowly he plucks the gun out of my hand. I don’t want to let it go but the moment he does the startling truth sinks in. I killed a man. And I don’t feel remorse. Tarnished perhaps, but I’m left with a mourning in its wake.
“It’s all right, sweetheart. You avenged her.”
My world crumbles and my legs give out, but Luca is there to catch me. He picks me up and cradles my face close to his chest as I begin to wail. A heart-breaking cry bleeds through the pent-up frustration and years lost have finally come to an end.
“You did it now. He’s gone,” Luca whispers quietly.
I don’t know how and I don’t know why he understands me so fundamentally. But I can’t stop hiding in the crook of his neck grateful to have his warmth around me instead of being alone in the corner of a room like all of those years ago.
Broken.
I knew my revenge would take something from me.
I didn’t realize it would uncover something uglier in its wake.
And that is the pain and mourning I’d carried for all these years.
In his death I have found an unsettling feeling of humanity.
Something someone like me doesn’t deserve.