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“I’m not going to hurt her,” I vow firmly. “I would never deliberately hurt her.”
“Deliberately,” Charlotte scoffs. “Can you understand why that isn’t good enough? I don’t understand how either of you think this is going to work. Sooner or later, one of you is destined to die. And honestly? I’d prefer it if it were you.”
I set my jaw, taking a deep breath to calm my pounding heart. Charlotte has a massive pair of balls to say this to my face. Oddly enough, I respect she’s at least telling me in person and not spewing slander behind my back.
“I just don’t get it,” she mumbles. “All our lives, Sandra has wanted for nothing. She does as she’s told. Always toes the line, always follows Dad’s orders. My sister is ruthless when she wants to be, and selfless around the clock. And you’re telling me the first time she truly wants someone, it’syou?”
“She wants me?” I echo. I don’t understand why this new information sends a thrill through me. “She said that?”
“Not in so many words. Not at all, actually. But I could tell. She’s risking so much being with you.”
“Are you here to try and convince me to break it off?”
“Yes.”
Her honesty is blunt but appreciated. Sandra and Charlotte share the trait of not beating around the bush.
“That’s not going to happen,” I say.
Charlotte sighs. “I figured as much. That’s why I’m here to extend a friendly warning instead. My brother has already been hurt. You’re damn lucky he survived the attack. Whether or not you’re directly at fault doesn’t matter. Your name was mentioned, and that’s enough for me and the rest of my family to write you off. So know this: one more mistake and I’ll—”
“Kill me?”
“No,” she says. “Death would be too good for you. I assure you I can get creative, though.”
“You came all the way here to tell me that?”
“Important things should always be said in person.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a text message from Sandra.
Marlena and Teresa Ivanovich. According to official records, they were buried together and St. Augustine Cemetery just past the west okrug.
That was fast.
My uncle’s a miracle worker.
“Is that her?” Charlotte asks me.
I glance up at her. “Does it matter?”
She rolls her eyes and huffs. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“We’re kind of in the middle of something.”
Charlotte stares at me for a moment, the muscles in her jaw visibly tensing. “Fine. I’ve said what needed to be said. Good luck with your manhunt.” She stalks past me, throwing a glare over her shoulder. “I don’t know what Sandra sees in you.”
For once in my life, I don’t have a response ready. Charlotte leaves without another word, slamming the door on the way out.
Chapter 30
Sandra
St. Augustine Cemetery. All things considered, it’s a really lovely spot. Lots of trees, plenty of flowers, and clear blue skies above. The gravestones are lined in neat rows and columns, some decorated with bouquets and candles, while others lie empty and forgotten. A small building sits in the far corner of the cemetery—likely the groundskeeper’s office.
“Ma’am?” Vance calls, subtly clearing his throat. “May I ask what we’re doing here?”
“Just… paying my respects to someone,” I reply. “Can you wait by the car? I shouldn’t be too long.”
