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“Jesus, Luca. Make up your mind. You want me to trust you; you say I shouldn’t. Which is it? As you said, you did save my life three times now. It’s hard not to.” Carina eyes me unflinchingly.
The truth erupts. “Because I was told to let the hit take place! To let the pieces fall. Once I do that, an alliance between the Marzanos and O’Hanlons would be final.”
Thunder sounds outside the window, but it’s nothing compared to the impact of the pain in Carina’s eyes. “It’s Evie trying to kill me? How I bet you and she laughed.” She shakes her head and pushes against me with a bitter laugh, trying to move past. I don’t let her. “What a cunt.”
I push harder against her shoulders. “Don’t even fucking joke about that. Of course, it’s not Evie. She just knows better than to fuck with someone’s hit.” I give her a little shake. “Something I obviously don’t.”
Carina pushes back against me. “This isn’t me joking, Luca!”
She’s angry. I don’t blame her. Her open palms strike my chest. “I should have known.” She strides away.
I let her take a few steps before I follow her toward the bedroom, stopping to lean against the doorjamb when she stops just inside, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You always want to fight with me over not talking. Yet, you are the one walking away now,” I fire after her.
She spins around, fists clenched, and she shakes her head, pain and anger fighting for dominance in her gaze. “So, why am I still alive?”
This is the part I’m struggling with.
“Why do you think? I can’t stand back and watch you die.” I realize as I speak the words out loud how true they are.
Carina Scarpetta will not die on my watch.
Chapter 18
Carina
Twenty-Three Years Old
DearDiaryLuca,
It’s been almost two years since you fucked me on your balcony and then drove me to the bus station and sent me on my way.
How’s life been treating you?
I’m good.
I’m still angry if I’m being honest. Still very confused.
Still waking up wanting you in the middle of the night, and goddamn, does that piss me off.
But I’m so much stronger now, Luca. Sal Fiorelli took me in and gave me a home when mine was snatched from me, and he taught me everything I needed to know to raise myself up from Daddy Agostino’s princess and Luca Marzano’s wild girl to a fucking Queen.
I take names now, Luca. I take names, and I take lives. Or at least, I decide who lives and who dies, if it comes to that. I take a little money, and I make a lot of money. I take a little influence, and I create more with it.
I want you to remember that. I took your and my father’s betrayal and rejection, and I’m making a goddamn empire with it. So fuck you.
Istompintothebedroom of the Airbnb, frustration boiling over. Someone has had a contract out on me, and he’s known about it this entire time.
He’s known, and he hasn’t seen fit to tell me—even though he’s seen fit to fuck me.
Fuck me over, more like it.
Hurt and confusion swell within me, and I cross my arms over my chest, keeping my back to him so he won’t see it all over my face.
“I don’t get it,” I whisper. “How can I trust anything you tell me?”
I don’t understand. The question of why he didn’t come after me, or fight for me to stay, is one that has plagued me for years. It’s one that’s made me wonder whether or not he loved me at all, if he felt a fraction of what I did.
