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Angelo will take Petal to a safe place until this whole shitstorm is over. Once her father drops dead, she’ll hate me; she’ll despise me, she’ll want to kill me.
I’ll take it.
After all, she would’ve never been fully mine with the way things are heading.
She’ll always be a Costa and I’ll always be a Vitallio.
We’re not little Joseph and Jasper from the boarding school. We’re not two young souls finding refuge in each other, now we’re enemies and it’s all because of her fucking family.
Remaining near the windows, I pretend to talk to Enzo while we stare outside.
A few of Lucio’s men have started to filter inside. Two of Paolo’s men at the entrance drop to the ground after being shot at.
The war has already begun.
Enzo toasts his glass of champagne with mine, a slight smirk on his lips.
He’s the type who doesn’t only love the taste of revenge but also chaos. Watching people die darkens his eyes in a sick type of sadism almost similar to mine when I used to be a cleaner dog.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my home.” Paolo’s voice echoes from the top of the stairs. He’s wearing a tuxedo and raises a glass of champagne.
Your very last, old man.
“I’m happy you decided to join us for the introduction of my long lost daughter as the rightful Costa heir. Please raise your glasses to Georgina Costa.”
I smirk, imagining his disappointment when she won’t show up.
Fuck him basically.
Angelo must be taking her outside and —
A petite woman puts her fair hand in Paolo’s as she stands beside him. She’s wearing a black dress that reaches her knees. Her black hair falls in waves to the middle of her back.
My mood darkens in a fraction of a second.
What the fuck is she doing here? She’s supposed to be gone. I told Angelo to drug her, because there’s no way in fuck she would’ve gone with him willingly.
The hall erupts with toasts as my phone vibrates with a text.
Angelo: Sorry, boss, she was already with her father when I got there.
Fuck.
Fucking fuck!
That woman always ruins my plans. Fucking always.
I steal a look outside, but it’s already too late.
As the people inside toast to Paolo’s new heir and she smiles like a princess on her father’s throne, my other plan goes into motion as smoothly as a boat in a calm sea.
Enzo takes cover to watch the chaos unfold.
I run upstairs. To her — my fucking damnation.
Paolo’s face contorts upon seeing me and Petal’s features morph in both relief and surprise.
Before either of them can do anything, Lucio’s men barge from the grand double doors.
Screams and gunshots echo in the air as loud voices tell everyone to go outside.
Lucio wouldn’t hurt his investors and money bringers. The only one he has an interest in are the two people standing in front of me.
I grab Petal by the arm and pull her behind me.
“Jas...what are you doing?”
“Saving your fucking life, which would’ve happened without all this drama if you followed Angelo.”
“Papa…” She struggles against me despite my steel hold. “I have to get Papa.”
“No.”
“Jasper!”
“Shut the fuck up and follow me, Petal. Lucio won’t hesitate to kill you.”
“He’ll hurt Papa.” Her voice is emotional, angry, but also sad.
“Let go of my daughter right now, Vitallio.” A click of a gun sounds behind me and I stop.
Slowly turning around, I find Paolo oblivious to the whole mess around him, to his guards being killed, to Lucio walking in with a smug grin like a king in another man’s country.
Petal shakes her head at her father. “Don’t, Papa. Don’t shoot him.”
At this moment, something inside me unlocks.
At this moment, I know I won’t kill Paolo and make her look at me with that disappointment, hate, and eventually revenge. I won’t restart the vicious cycle with her.
For now, her safety is the most important thing. I pull her by the arm, but Paolo clicks his gun. “I’ll kill you, don’t doubt it.”
“Papa…”
All of us pause when Lucio reaches the top of the stairs and points a gun to Georgina’s chest.
I push her behind me, but it’s already too late.
Lucio pulls the trigger and a loud bang echoes in the hall.22GeorginaThe sound of gunshots echo in the air, but there's only one that matters.
The one aimed at me.
One second, Lucio is pointing the gun at me and the next, Dad is in front of me and then the sound of the gunshot fills the space.
I shriek as he falls to the floor.
A red spot oozes from his jacket and stains his shirt red.
Lucio’s face contorts, realizing what he’s done.
I fall to my knees by Dad’s side, pressing trembling hands to his bleeding chest.
“Call an ambulance,” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Someone call an ambulance!”
I’ve treated many gunshot wounds to know that patients don’t survive after losing this much blood, especially if their lungs are weak like Dad, but I refuse to believe that. I refuse to look at the logical side of things.
