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Either way, I want him to be loved—to enter this world an innocent, unaware of his parents’ tainted souls.
Something shifts in me, a ripple along the blood pulsing through my body that brings me back to reality. I suck in a deep breath, relenting, and let Elia pry the gun from my hands. He sweeps me into his arms, folding me into his chest, and breathes into my hair.
“When does it stop hurting?” I murmur into his suit, letting a few tears fall.Why do I feel so deflated?
He runs a hand over my hair, cradling my head. “It doesn’t. We just learn to cover the bad stuff with better memories.” Pushing hair from my face, he gazes into my eyes, his creasing at the corners. “And you and I are gonna make the best goddamn memories.”
Curling an arm over my shoulders, he ushers our group out the emergency exit. I pull against his hold when we pass my father, stopping in my tracks. He tilts his head up slightly, a menacing grin on his face. Even though there’s still an ache flaring deep in my chest at his vile spirit, at the chasm between us, there’s a certain pride in not stooping to his level—in proving my worth, to myself.
Proving that I’m better.
Still, when he winks at me, I can’t stop my reaction; my tongue writhes in my mouth, saliva pooling on the tip, and I purse my lips, projecting it right at him.
The wad of spit lands on his mouth, and a look of pure rage washes over him. He struggles against his binds, unable to wipe his face, and I grin as Elia drags me outside to where Benito waits.
Tucking me into the backseat, my husband cups my cheek in his hand and lets out a soft smile. “You amaze me,mio amore.”
I tap his chest, hoping I’m conveying how I adore him, wishing the words would push past my lips. Hoping he knows how much I appreciate his unknowing participation in my plan from the very beginning.
Falling in love with him was just the icing on top.
Juliet settles in beside me, and we buckle up, watching the others turn and go back inside. Luca climbs into the front passenger seat and taps the dashboard.
“God, Caroline. You’re a fucking badass.” My sister shakes her head, leaning against the window, and an odd calmness washes over me as we head toward the interstate, knowing that everything is actually,officially, over.
GIA DRAGS DOMINIC’S stupid ass up the stairs, not stopping even as the older man’s feet catch on each step, terror keeping his limbs from working properly.
Normally, we’d leave this part up to Kal, but he skipped town last week, saying something about unfinished business with a girl in North Carolina, claiming our hooded figure is more than up to the task.
I didn’t ask questions, and he didn’t offer any answers.
Shoving Dominic into the incomplete gallery, we flank him and fit him into a leather chair, binding his wrists and ankles to the arms and legs. Marco gagged him downstairs with a bandana he found outside, and he tries to work it from his mouth, thrashing and screaming.
The spit from Caroline still coats his top lip, and it makes my heart skip a beat.
My girl.
A back door opens and closes with a soft click, and my father approaches us, dodging the plethora of headless mannequins that fill the room. “Jesus, you guys couldn’t have picked a creepier room.”
I roll my eyes as Gia unloads his duffel bag, unzipping and removing tools. “Wedidn’t pick it.”
“Who the hell did?”
“Me.”
The hooded figure from before slithers out of the shadows, hands tucked behind his back. His pale face looks ghoulish in the fluorescent lighting, a heavy feeling settling low in my gut as he floats toward us. Unlike Kal, Kieran Ivers looks like a demon straight out of hell; a possessed Red Riding Hood.
A shiver skates down my spine, still unsure if I should’ve involved him in this.
But there’s only one man colder and more disconnected than our usual fixer, and he had the technical know-how to pull off our stunt earlier. Once we confirmed that it was Dominic and his men stealing from us, before we exiled Gia’s brother, I reached out and made a deal with Kieran.
I couldn’t offer him the money or the woman that Dom had promised him, but I could at least give himthis.The sick satisfaction that comes with ending a life undeserving of existing.
He agreed without a moment’s hesitation, despite allegedly having been holed up in his house for the last several weeks.
I can’t help but wonder if the ghost of his brother in that rotting castle started to get to him, the way all ghosts return to the scene of the crime at some point.
Marco works at Dominic’s clothing, cutting them from his body with the knife he tried to use on my wife and her sister. What beautiful irony.
