At the entrance to the restaurant, illuminated by floor lamps and nestled between two sturdy palm trees, Camillo was exchanging friendly words with Carlo Mancuso. I waited for him, my satin dress letting the night breeze brush against the skin of my arms, feeling the weight of that ring on my finger.
I opened my hand, gazing at the peridot. I didn’t know if I deserved the ring that had belonged to his mother, but I couldn’t shake off the happiness that was overwhelming me. Lord knows, he had pushed me away, created a whole world of distance between us, but it seemed that in his hands, time turned back.He managed to mend what had seemed beyond repair, as if his heart and mine were conspiring against me.
I smiled.
Realizing that Camillo Vicari was responsible for rebuilding my feeble heart was terrifying. A murderer, a mobster, a drug dealer, and yet, the most fascinating man of my entire life. The chapter I hoped would end the book.
I had tried to fight it, tried to maintain the distance he had created, but it was in vain. I was like a worthless piece of metal being drawn by the magnetic pull of his existence.
If I wasn’t afraid of death, I shouldn’t let myself be terrified by life either.That was what my heart had been repeating since the night before, and perhaps it was right.
Even if it was a mistake, I had no doubts left. I wanted Camillo Vicari to be my final chapter, my epilogue, everything that remained to be written.
I watched him. His wolf-like gaze, always so alert, with crystal-clear jade eyes that both fascinated and frightened, was accompanied by an immaculate smile. That afternoon, in his embrace, I had discovered that it was because of his heart that I had continued to live after Lester. That he was the one I had been waiting for without knowing it. My purpose.
He turned toward me. Quickly, he glanced back over his shoulder at Carlo Mancuso and said something to him before walking toward me with long strides.
“I’ll take you to the car, Piccola Furetta. No need for you to be standing here.” His hand rested on my back and guided meto the SUV. As soon as he opened the door, I caught a glimpse of Martino’s silhouette in the driver’s seat and a second man beside him. I wondered if he was one of the soldati. “I'm going to wrap things up with Carlo. I owe him that for letting me reserve the private room of the ristorante just for us…” he explained, winking at me. “I’ll be right back.”
Camillo kissed me on the forehead before closing the car door. In silence, I waited patiently, and my gaze fell once more on the ring on my finger. I smiled, feeling my cheeks grow warm.
That happiness was new to my heart. Unlike anything else. But he was unlike anything else too, in the most exceptional of ways.
The man who took me to Italy to kill me became my future. And I knew his intention to end me no longer existed the very moment he begged for my forgiveness during lunch the day before. He proved it to me last night. Then, on that beach. In the bathroom of hispenthouse. In his bedroom. And there, in the dining room of that restaurant, with the ring I was now wearing on my finger. He proved it to me in every possible and imaginable way.
Clack.
I looked up, my eyebrows furrowing at the sound. I focused on Martino, seeing one of his hands move and the car’s engine roar. I turned to the side, seeing Camillo’s silhouette through the tinted glass. He and Carlo Mancuso had moved all the way to the restaurant’s door, and there was no sign that the conversation would end anytime soon.
“Martino, I don't think your boss is done.” I noted, a bad feeling gnawing at the pit of my stomach. As I turned to face forward, I met the driver’s gaze in the rearview mirror.
“The Padrone won’t be joining us.”
I felt my face go slack and my breath catch in my throat.
Martino revved the engine, speeding out of the parking lot in front of the restaurant. I turned immediately, looking for Camillo, but there was no sign of him, and all my alarms went off.
I put my hands on the door.
Locked.
I caught the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. There was a cruel smile on his face.
“Did you really think you were going to be the new Signora Vicari,stronza?” Martino Accuri spat, his tone stripped of any politeness, making me tremble from head to toe.
“No. Camillo and I—”
Hoarse laughter filled the car, and I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep from whimpering at the terror overwhelming me.
“You and Don Vicari what? Did you really think you could seduce a Capobastone with two blowjobs?” Tears welled up in my eyes as I heard that, and I automatically clutched the ring on my left hand. “He emptied his balls and that’s it. Haven’t you figured out yet that these past two days were your send-off?”
I pressed my back against the seat, tears streaming thickly from my eyes.
No… Camillo wouldn’t be that cruel. He wouldn’t give me a jewel from his own mother only to have me killed now. Yet, he led me to that car, driven by one of his most trusted men.
I sobbed, my body writhing under the weight of the pain that was tearing at my insides.
“Don’t cry,SignorinaParker.”
