Grayson
. . .
FORTY-THREE
POP, POP, POP.
My gun fires off bullets while I imagine the target is Matteo’s head. I reload my clip, firing off five more before I’m satisfied. My target rushes forward, bullet holes all right through the center.
“You need to release some of that rage, brother,” Moretti spews as he inspects his own target.
“I need it for when I kill that fucker,” I growl, clipping a new target on.
POP, POP, POP.
Moretti waits for me to finish before he leans on his elbow. “There’s a gala coming up.”
I put my gun down, clicking on the safety. “Will he be there?”
“They will all be there,” Moretti confirms, sharing a knowing look with me. It’s time. The day we’ve been waiting for is finally here.
“And all your ducks are finally in a row? You can be sure this time?”
“As sure as one can be. There’s no guarantee with the mafia, but Matteo has pissed off a lot of important people recently. Rumor is, they’re staging a coup.”
I scoff. “Good luck with that. A bullet in his head will do just fine. There’s no room for errors in my plan. He can’t retaliate if he’s dead.”
Moretti nods. “That’s why I’m telling you about the gala.
They plan to do it that night. We have to beat them to it.
I have an invite and can sneak you in. Matteo always sneaks off to host an invite-only poker tournament.
That’s where he will be all night. It’s a small, private room, but it’s usually heavily guarded. ”
My face hardens, thinking about what they did to Maisie. “I can handle them.”
Pride swells on his face. “I know you can, and you’ll be doing me a favor by taking him out.”
“And you’re sure the next person who steps in won’t be just as bad?
I need out, Moretti. I can’t keep doing this shit, not after what happened to Maisie.
Even though I’ve already lost her, I know she’s still out there, alive and thriving.
I need to know it will stay that way. I need the threat on her life permanently gone. ”
My heart seizes at the thought of her waking up alone in the hospital.
It was the last thing I wanted to do. I turned around twice to go back and check on her before I made it out.
The letter was harsh, I know that, but it was meant to be.
I needed to do enough damage to send her away and not look back but not enough to break her.
That was the hardest part. I had her heart to consider in all this. Mine doesn’t matter anymore—she already possesses it. It belongs to her, and I don’t want it back.
Once I knew she was okay, I left. Like a coward. She deserves that big life she yearns for, to chase her dreams with nothing holding her back. She’s capable of so many amazing things. I would only be an anchor tied to her ankle if I kept holding on to the love I have for her.
I paid a nurse to keep an extra eye on her, stay by her side. She’ll deny it all day, but Maisie hates being alone. She needed someone there when she woke up. After everything she’s been through, she deserved that at least.
A little ball of worry nags my brain if I made the wrong choice.
Did I hurt her beyond repair? Will she be safe without me watching over her?
Will her heart stay open to love, or will she bury herself in grief again?
Grief I planted there. With her in mind, of course, but there’s still no excuse for it.
Grief is all the same when broken down to its rawest form.
The ache still feels like it’s shredding your heart in two.
Moretti’s grunt breaks me from my wandering thoughts.
“I know almost anyone in the organization will be better than Matteo. Ideally, his son will step in, but he will have to fight for the position. He’s a fair man and will grant you leave if it comes down to it.
Whatever the outcome is, I'll fight by your side.”
He shoots his hand out, and we seal it with a handshake.
Just a little bit longer, and all of this can finally be over.
I can wake up from my nightmare of a life and know it was worth saving Laine, seeing her happy and healthy and getting to raise her daughter.
Knowing they won’t be in danger anymore will be gift enough.
“So tell me about this gala.”