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He clicks the pen open, steps closer, and sticks the ballpoint against my neck. “Sign your name,Gigi Lombardi, or I’ll sign it with your fucking blood.”
I swallow as he presses the pen deeper against the vein and can almost feel it ready to pop.
“Fine,” I snarl, grasping his wrist to remove the pen.
This time, when he offers it, I take it.
My signature is messy, I misspellLombardi, and I spit on the paperwork when finished.
He smirks deviously before holding out his phone to show me one of the pictures we took. “What a happy couple we are.”
“You asshole.”
“You mean your husband.”
32
I toss a duffel bag of cash into the backseat with the priest and unlock the car. “You’re free to go.”
The priest hurriedly opens the door, hitches the bag over his shoulder, and nearly falls out of the car. He grunts before sprinting toward the cathedral without looking back once.
Sure, I kidnapped him.
At least I compensated him generously for his services.
I drive off.
My next task is preparing my package for Cristian.
A full moon hangs in the sky as I unload Elijah’s body from my trunk, snap a picture, and then text it to Cristian.
Me: I told you I’d keep Gigi safe, and that includes preventing her from marrying unworthy men.
Next, I send him one of the wedding pictures I forced Gigi to take with me.
After hitting Send, I slip the phone into my pocket.
Damien meets me in the warehouse and laughs as he unties the bow around Elijah’s neck. He then helps me load the body into a plastic barrel filled with acid.
Now, it’s time I find Sonny.
“How is she?” I ask Eden over FaceTime.
Eden is Dante’s fiancée. Their home on the outskirts of the city is Amara’s safe house. Damien took her and Clara there after my father’s death. Shortly after, Clara’s sister, Kicia, started having health complications.
As much as Clara didn’t want to leave Amara, Kicia needed her help. So I had one of my men escort Clara to Chicago, and Eden has been watching Amara.
Years ago, Dante and I made an agreement. I killed a man for him, and in return, they’d hide Amara if I ever needed the help.
“Good,” Eden replies. “We watched a movie and just finished a bowl of ice cream.” She brushes her bangs away from her eyes and glances away. “Amara! Daddy is on the phone. You want to tell him good night?”
“Yes!” Amara yells from a distance.
Eden passes her the phone, and Amara appears, holding it too close to her face.
“Hi, Daddy!” she chirps, chocolate remnants on her cheek.
My chest feels hollow because I can’t be there with her. Even though I’m doing this to protect her, something makes me feel like not being with her is wrong.
