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The wrath I’ve contained for so long is finally free and it refuses to see logic or reason.
It only sees revenge.
I take a step closer to the man who has made my life a living hell for as long as I can remember. “This is for Ma.” Another step. “This is for my childhood.” Step. “This is for all the people you’ve stood by andmurderedbecause you don’t give a damn about anything but your bank account”—I take the last step that keeps me at a safe distance—“and power.”
My finger touches the trigger and three things happen at once.
A loud bang sounds from the first floor.
A woman—Lily—screams.
A gunshot echoes in this room.
I turned my gun at the last second, shooting the bullet between Marco and Rowan’s heads so that it hit the closet.
Footsteps pound on the staircase as a SWAT team of no less than twelve men ready to infiltrate the room.
And that’s when Ifinallysee it.
The fear in his eyes as he realizes what’s happened.
“You…” Rowan says, and my head turns sharply in his direction. For a moment, I’d forgotten he and Santi were also with us.
“That’s right, father,” Santi says, lowering his weapon. I keep mine pointed between them as a reminder of what I could have done. What I still could do.
“You’re no sons of ours,” Marco spits.
“DOWN ON THE GROUND!”
Marco and Rowan lower themselves to their knees, bringing their hands to cradle their heads. I still haven’t lowered my weapon, even as shouts and footsteps and chaos ensue around me.
“Come on, brother,” Santi says in my ear, tugging on my shirt. “It’s over now.”
Chapter Seventeen
May 1st - Kate
I’mawokensuddenlybythe sound of the door opening. I squint in the darkness, my eyes adjusting to find Lorenzo’s frame walking through the doorway.
“Sorry for waking you,” he whispers hesitantly.
“What time is it?” I ask, my voice riddled with sleep.
“Sometime after 3,” he responds, kicking off his shoes.
After soaking in the tub for an hour, trying to make sense of everything that happened to me and everything I’d learned, I made my way back to the bedroom. I’d intended on redressing and meeting Char downstairs, but the bed looked so comfortable and inviting, I decided to tuck myself in.
I didn’t think I’d have the gift of sleep, but obviously I dozed off. Even with all the reasons I shouldn’t care about Lorenzo, I couldn’t stop worrying about what was happening. I couldn’t stop myself from searching his closet, putting on one of his black shirts, and breathing in deeply, longing to catch a trace of his lingering scent.
“I can…” He nods towards the door, but I shake my head, becoming more alert.
“No, I…” My voice trails off, heavy with implication. “I want to know what happened.”
He nods and begins walking towards the bed, then pauses, silently asking for permission. I scoot to the middle, leaving him the spot I emptied. He tugs his jeans off, leaving them in a heap on the floor as he slides into bed and turns on the bedside lamp. His eyes skim my shirt and his pierced brow arches, but he doesn't comment.
“We finally got them,” he says. The weight of what he’s just been through rolls off him in waves.
“Can you explain how you got involved with the FBI? Why were you involved with this at all if you didn’t want to be?”
