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No, no, no, this can’t be happening, this can’t be real. I thought Don Pavone was dead. I thought the war was over.
This has to be some kind of delusion.
But no, he’s here, and I don’t know what to do.
“I know things are bad between us, but hear me out,” he says, stopping ten feet away. “I just want to talk. Please, Camille, just—”
The door bangs open and Alonzo comes out, gun raised. He aims it at Christopher, holding steady, placing himself between the two of us. I stagger away, breathing hard, and it’s like I come back into my body with a sudden rush.
“Back the fuck off,” Alonzo barks, bristling with rage as he jabs the end of the gun at Christopher’s face.
Christopher’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t move. He keeps staring at me with this sad, pleading look, and something doesn’t sit right.
Why would he show up like this? Why now? He knows the diner is full of Greek soldiers. He knows I have guards. Why just walk up to me like this, no weapons, no nothing?
Slowly, Christopher drops to his knees as Alonzo barks at him not to move, to keep his hands up.
“Wait,” I say, my voice cutting through the tension. I have to say it twice before Alonzo looks back at me. “Hold on a second. Something’s off about this.”
Alonzo pauses. He looks at me uncertainly. “Evander’s been looking for this man. I can’t just—”
“Give me a second. Please, just one second.”
“You know I can’t let you talk to him. If Evander found out—”
“He won’t. Please, this is important.”
Alonzo’s jaw works. But slowly, he steps back. “I’m not going anywhere, but if you want to talk, then talk.” He glares at Christopher. “If your hands so much as move, I will kill you.”
Christopher lets out a breath. “Camille. Honey—”
“If you call me that again, I’ll tell Alonzo to shoot and save us all some freaking stress.” The words come out in a rush and it feels good to hold power over this man.
This abusive piece of shit.
This awful, terrible monster, this nightmare.
For so long I’ve lived in fear of him.
I was nothing when I ran. I was a stupid kid, naive, inexperienced.
But I’m so much more now, and staring into the eyes of my abuser, I’m sure of one thing.
I’m afraid.
I’m so fucking terrified.
But I am stronger than I’ve ever been, and I will not back down.
“The Famiglia’s got it out for me,” Christopher says in a rush. “They’re coming for me, Camille. Them, and your husband, and basically the whole fucking city of Chicago. I can’t get out. I can’t fucking run. I need help. I’m desperate.”
I stare at him, barely comprehending. Is this real? Can he be serious right now? “You came to me… for help.” I say it flatly.
He nods eagerly. “I came to beg for mercy. Please, Camille. I know I was rough to you sometimes, I wasn’t the best husband—”
I take two steps forward. “You nearly killed me half a dozen times,” I say with venom. “You made my life hell.”
He grimaces. “Camille. I know. I’m sorry. I’m here putting my life in your hands now to atone for all the stupid shit I did. This whole thing, it’s because I never stopped loving you, even when I lost control and did all those shitty things. I’ve been fighting for you, but I get it, I lost. Now I’m here, begging for my life. Please, Camille—”
