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“Ella?” he asks.
“Is not coming.”
His gaze shoots to me, but I don’t acknowledge his surprise. “You’re leaving her behind?” he asks, disbelief obvious in his voice.
After spending weeks hunting for the slightest morsel of information about her whereabouts and finally finding her, I’m walking away. If I were him, I wouldn’t believe it either.
When we step out of the hotel, the cars are waiting, and I slide into the backseat, stopping Santino with a shake of my finger from getting in next to me.
I need to be alone with my thoughts.
I pull my gun from the back of my pants and lay it on the seat beside me as I press the button to raise the tinted partition to the front. When it’s completely up, I let my head fall back against the seat.
There’s nothing left of me. I’m completely empty and numb.
I’ve condemned myself to a life of darkness, but as I told Ella, I deserve it.
She needs to be safe… and happy. He can give that to her—a normal life. I hate him for it. How I’m not murdering him is beyond me. This soul shit is messing with my head.
My chest constricts at the thought of never holding Ella in my arms again, of never seeing her deep-blue eyes light up, of never kissing her.
How will I live without her?
I can’t… I just can’t.
My eyes fall on the gun beside me.
It’s beckoning me. I stare at it. It would be the easy way out. It’s tempting. So fucking tempting. What have I got to live for?
But it would break Ella’s heart. And she’s been through enough. She would blame herself for my death… I know she would. I can’t do that to her.
No, I shall live on and keep my fucking ancestors’ legacy going… they’ve cost me everything. I wish I could just walk away from it all. But what I told Ella holds true; I will die inla familia.
I will never love another. Never.
And I sure as hell don’t want children with anybody else. Mateo will have to keep the family name going, or it will die with me. That’s my preference, but I can’t deny my brother the happiness I’ll never experience again.
My angel…
My heart hurts. This is what heartbreak must feel like. It’s excruciating.
How did Papa recover from this? At least, he had us kids as a memory of the woman he loved. But me? I have nothing.
I wish she had been pregnant for real. I wish there was a baby. It would have given me an excuse to never walk away from her. Because a parent never abandons their child.
Now I’m forced to watch her have this with Burg. It will be pure torture, but as long as she’s happy and safe… I’ve done the right thing.
The car pulls up on the tarmac next to my jet. After getting out of the car, I walk up the stairs of the plane. Each step takes me farther away from her.
This is torture.
The pain is ripping me apart.
But there is no other way. This is how it has to be. Ella is all that matters.
When everyone is on board, the hatch of the jet closes, the engines roaring up.
The finality of my decision is sinking in, and a heaviness I’ve never experienced before is weighing down my insides.
