Chapter 43
Ace
I sit back leisurely in the tacky chair, licking my lips. The woman who was supposed to love, protect, and want only the best for me sits up, looking plastic and fake as she twists toward the nightstand and flips on the bedside lamp.
When she turns back toward me, she fumbles with her glasses for a second before sliding them over her surgically shaped nose. When she looks me up and down, noticing the gun resting on my lap, she gasps and puts her hand on her chest, like she’s horrified.
“Lacey, what is that? Why do you have a gun?” Her voice is shriller than I remember, but that could be because I’m pointing a weapon at her.
Little does she know, the same daughter she attempted to murder is about to do the same to her.
Except, unlike my mother, I do my own dirty work.
Just like my father would have done for me.
She killed the first man who loved me. The one I loved with my whole heart.
Lorenzo Ricci wasn’t a perfect man, but he was good to us, I know that.
“That ring,” I say as it casts a prism onto the ceiling. “You wore that ring when you came into the hospital and tried to inject something into my IV. Before Luciano came in and scared you. It was you. You were trying to kill me because your hit man didn’t succeed.”
Clutching at her pajamas, as if she needs to cover herself, my mother shakes her head, her mouth opening and closing several times. God, she’s so fucking fake. Even now, her movements are measured, like she’s putting on a show.
“Lacey, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you high? Is that what this is? Are you on drugs?” she asks, slowly moving one hand toward her nightstand where her phone is sitting.
I rise and aim my pistol toward her. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
When she stops, I walk around the bed and snatch the device off the table myself, squeezing it in my hand as anger radiates through me like a bolt of lightning.
“You don’t get to call for help. This is between you and me, bitch. It’s about time you told the truth for once in your fucking life,” I say as I hurl the device over the top of her head, watching it shatter into pieces when it hits the wall above.
She cries out as bits of it fall on her, her body trembling.
“You had my father killed,” I say, my voice tightening as I think about him. About the day I looked for him in the audience at my performance. When I couldn’t find him, I instantly knew something bad had happened to him.
Because he never missed anything that was important to me.
He always made me his priority.
But to my mother, I was her pawn.
“Your father died in a car accident,” she says quietly, her eyes set on my lips instead of meeting my gaze.
“Because you paid someone to kill him. I’ve always had a strange feeling about it.”
I pull the cool metal coin from my pocket and throw it to her, getting immense pleasure when it smacks her on the arm as she tries to block it from hitting her face. God forbid her most recent face job be ruined.
When it lands on the gold comforter, my mother looks at it, something settling over her eyes. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s not regret. I do know that. Not even an ounce.
“I just want to know why before I kill you,” I say.
She gasps and snaps her gaze to my face. “I’m your mother.”
Blinded by rage, I grab the nearest vase of flowers and hurl it at her. “And I’m your daughter!” I shout. “Your fucking daughter, who you tried to murder!”
Water soaks her, and she leaps out of bed, wiping at her nightgown, growling in annoyance. God, the woman is such a self-centered cunt.
“Why?” I ask as I take a step toward her, one hand raised, my gun pointed at her. “Why did you kill my father and then try to do the same to me? Why not take us both out at the same time?”
“You’ve lived in this world your entire life, Lacey. Do you really have to ask that?” she asks casually, the condescending tone I’ve heard all my life in her voice. The evil tone. “Everything in this life revolves around money. It’s what makes the world go round, after all.”
Money.
Of course. She got life insurance after my father died. And my trust. I didn’t have that until I turned twenty-five. If she had succeeded in killing me, she would have inherited the half a billion my father left for me.
My eyes burn with tears, my shoulders trembling slightly as I soak it in. I take a step toward her, my throat tight with emotion that is a mix of rage and sadness.
“You bitch,” I whisper.
The sound of the bedroom door opening startles my mother as she backs toward the wall. I knew it was only a matter of time before someone showed up. I don’t even have to glance behind me to know who it is.
Kian and Luciano.
My Daddy and my family.
“Luciano,” she gasps as they approach closer.
I can smell Kian’s cologne. It’s like a warm blanket being draped around my shoulders.
He’s here.
He won’t let me fall.
Luciano says nothing to my mother. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him stop a couple of feet to the side, a step behind me.
“Angel,” Kian murmurs gently, walking up to me, his breath warm on my neck. “You good?”
“Me? Good?” I huff softly. “I don’t think I’m even a little good right now. I’m not sure I’ll ever be.”
His fingers brush against my back, slowly sliding up my spine while I stare at my mother with a hatred I never realized I had until now, my gun pointed at her. The longer I hold it, the heavier the dark metal gets.
“You will be,” he says firmly. “Because I’ll make sure you are. And if it takes time for that to happen, I’m still going to be right fucking here to hold you through it all.”
“Luciano!” my mother screams. “Get that gun from her! What are you doing?”
Kian ignores her, continuing to stroke my spine while my heart pounds so hard, I swear I can hear it. Maybe it’s just the blood rushing through my ears.
“She murdered my dad,” I say, my voice breaking.
“I know, angel.”
A tear falls down my cheek. “I’m going to kill her.”
“I know,” he answers. “And Luciano and I are here to support you. Do what you have to, angel.”
There’s not a doubt in my mind that Kian is pissed that I disobeyed him and flew out here…
and that I held up one of his men… and met up with a man he doesn’t know to get a gun…
Yeah, he’s angry for sure. Yet, instead of storming in here to stop me so he can do it himself, Kian Savage is here to let me be who I am…
while he watches proudly and makes sure I’m safe.
The absurdity of my thoughts makes me laugh out loud.
My mother tilts her head at me like I’ve gone mad, but really, I’m just amused over the fact that this is my real life.
Four people, standing in the middle of an enormous, tacky bedroom where everything is fake gold, while the rest of the world sleeps.
This is the life my father lived. And Luciano has been keeping his legacy alive all this time, while I’ve been held under the control of the evil woman standing in front of me.
I’m a Ricci, through and through. My father may have died when I was young, but he taught me some very important things in that short amount of time. Things I’ve never forgotten.
Always be loyal to those who are loyal to you.
Mercy is a gift that Riccis only give to those who truly deserve it.
If someone betrays you, remember whose blood runs through you and make sure it never happens again.
You’re not just my daughter, Tesoro. You’re the best part of me.
Love isn’t about who stands by your side only when you’re up. It’s about who doesn’t flinch when you’re not.
My hand trembles, and I think I may be sick as my father’s deep, smoky voice replays in my mind exactly how I’ve always remembered it.
“He deserved better than you,” I grit out.
“Lacey, you’ve completely lost your mind,” my mother says. “Your father was a gangster. He was out running the streets and sleeping with women, all while I was home taking care of you.”
“You’re a liar,” I spit out. “You were the one who cheated on him, and he forgave you. I might have only been a kid, but I heard your fights. I heard the way you spoke to him. Saw you hit him when he tried to hold you back.”
As if she’s totally forgotten she has a gun pointed at her, my mom rushes toward me, her eyes narrowed, but she stops a few feet away when I lift the gun higher.
“You don’t know anything! I did everything for you.
To and from ballet, to and from cheer, to and from school. God, I gave up my life for you, Lacey.”
Blinking, I stare at her. “You’re fucking delusional. You murdered my father. You were emotionally neglectful, mentally abusive, and you tried to kill me. Twice. You fucking cunt. Go to hell.”
I close one eye, aim, and pull the trigger once, the bullet hitting right between her eyes. The explosion echoes through the room, then there’s a single thud as the woman who birthed me hits the floor. Blood drips from her head onto the light carpet, staining it a deep crimson.
No one says anything for a long time while I stare down at her lifeless body, feeling a sense of relief I hadn’t expected.
Several sets of footsteps approach, but I don’t move. It doesn’t matter who it is. They aren’t here for me. They’re here for her.
Warmth and Kian’s familiar cologne both hit me right before he slides one hand down my arm to where I’m holding my gun at my side. Slowly and gently, he pulls the weapon from my grip and hands it to someone else before he leans down, his lips by my ear.
“I’m right here, angel,” he whispers.
And that’s all it takes for me to crumble, my knees buckling as I let out a sob and grasp at him. He scoops me up and carries me out of the room, Luciano following. Over and over, I cry louder, my lungs burning while I gasp for air.
Kian still holds me as we get into the back of an SUV, Luciano right there next to us as the driver takes off.
Neither of them says anything while I continue to fall apart.
At one point, Luciano reaches out and takes my hand while Kian keeps me wrapped up in his arms on his lap.
I grasp my cousin’s fingers, and he gives me a gentle squeeze back, calming me slightly.
What if he holds against me that my mother killed my father? My dad was Luciano’s blood uncle.
The car takes us to Luciano’s mansion, which I’ve only been to a handful of times. Despite Kian trying to get out of the car with me in his arms, I climb out first, not missing the disapproving look he gives me before he takes my hand, and the three of us head inside.