Page 96 of Fall Before Her Throne

“Leona.” My voice broke. “You should have given me over. You should have turned me in. It would have fixed everything.”

She shook her head. “No, it wouldn’t.”

“It would have,” I choked out. I needed her to understand. “The FBI would have backed off. You could move more freely against the Camorra. Everything your father did would have been put to rest with it.”

“Max, listen to me.” She grabbed my hand. “I didn’t want to turn you in. Okay? I didn’t want to. It would have been shitty and unfair, and I would have hated myself for it.”

She made her choice. It was time to make mine.

“Fine,” I breathed. I pulled the pistol from the back of my waistband and pressed it into her hands. “End me, Leona. Please.”

“What—”

I gripped both her hands and trained the gun on my heart. This entire night was my fault. The casino, the Camorra, the arrest, the RICO case—it all traced back to me. If I had done things differently, we wouldn’t be in this position. She wouldn’t be.

Tears pooled in my eyes. “It would be a pleasure to die at your hand. It’s what I deserve. Just kill me and all of this can be over.”

“Max—”

“Do it,” I pleaded. This was the only thing that felt right. The only way to bury the past so she could move forward without me.

She tried to pull away, pull the gun from my chest. “I can’t.”

I yanked it closer. My grip was unyielding.

“All I’ve ever done is hurt you,” I whispered. A tear tracked down my face. “Please. Just finish this.”

I got down on my knees, but I kept my grip on the gun. On her.

“Please,” I begged. “This is the only way I can atone.”

This felt right. This was supposed to be my end. I was never supposed to make it past revenge for my father. I was never supposed to live past fixing what Luciano had done.

But she had already done it. The only problems left were my fault, not Luciano’s. There was no point in continuing, especially if I was only going to cause her pain. If I died, the FBI would be back at square one again. It would give her—give them all—more time. More time to fight the RICO case. More time to defeat the Camorra without having to worry about protecting me.

I stared up at her, watching her face as she considered it. Her golden brown eyes flamed orange from the crackling fire. Her face stared at me with confusion and hurt.

Couldn’t she see?

Couldn’t they all see that my death would fix so many things?

I’d die a happy man if she were the one to end me.

“I won’t kill you.” Gently, she pulled her hand free from mine. She took the ammo magazine out of the pistol and dropped it to the ground. Slowly, she dismantled it piece by piece. The parts clattered to the ground at my knees.

“Why?” I looked up at her, so beautiful and shining that it hurt. Everything hurt.

“Death is the easy way out.” She cupped my cheek and bent forward. I angled toward her even more. “If you really want atonement, earn it on your knees.”

My throat worked as I swallowed. The air crackled between us. On my knees?

Was she saying what I think she was?

Slowly, my arms wrapped around her waist, and my face pressed against her belly. I breathed in, slow and deep. Letting myself feel her. Letting myself consider—even for just a moment—that the reason she didn’t want to turn me in or kill me was because she still cared about me.

It was a long shot, but I had nothing left except that hope. That belief that one day I could atone, if I just took this chance.

She stood perfectly still, not pushing me away, but also not encouraging me. Not touching me back. Her earlier words came back to me.