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Except when I thought about it, he hadn’t. He never taught us to love. And love might be the best thing we did. “Because I fell in love? Decided there were more important things than money and power? Or is it because I wasn’t willing to kill my own family to get it?”
His face paled as he stared at her. I could see the wheels turning in his mind. See him trying to figure out how much she knew. How to get out of this. But before he could form a plan, another lie to feed us, we moved.
Mila’s bindings gave way as she yanked hard. I dropped the knife from her throat at the same time. It clattered to the ground as I grabbed my gun. I felt Mila pull the spare one from my waistband before she ran across the room. I heard her shot just before my uncle shifted out of the way.
As if her shot was the starting bell for a fight, all hell broke loose. I aimed at the guards in the corner as they ran to cover my uncle. Shouts and more gunfire came from the hall as the doors to the office burst open.
The Vancinis flooded in, killing my uncle’s men. The ones that had been loyal to a man who would murder his own brother. I felt nothing at their deaths. Just like I would feel nothing when I killed him.
I’d made my decision; I’d chosen love. I’d chosen blood, so I’d spilled his to keep my sister safe.
* * *
What was probably only minutes later felt like hours as I handed my sister the knife. The smell of gunpowder and death hung in the air. The room around me was filled with it as my uncle knelt before us.
His dark eyes were rounded in fear. I could smell it dripping from his pores as Mila killed his long-time guard. The man’s body slumped to the floor as she turned to him.
Maybe I should feel something at seeing all the death and destruction. Or the knowledge that I was perpetuating the cycle. He killed my parents so we would kill him. I couldn’t forgive it.
Or the fact that I was there and he’d tried to kill me. To take out all the heirs so he’d have a clean line to ascend. I’d been on that floor beneath them, a second from death before Mila had found me. But I felt nothing as I stared at him.
Pain and suffering were every day in my world. This wasn’t any different. Actually, it was. His pain would heal my wounds. I’d never wanted revenge for their deaths, but that was before. Now I would enjoy knowing they could finally rest in peace.
One side of my damaged mouth pulled into a frown as Mila swung her head toward me. I knew what she was saying without the words. She was asking for permission. His death would thrust me into power.
I would have to lead. Turn this family into something I could be proud of. It would take more death to rid us of everyone who cared about greed over loyalty. Who’d known what he’d done and hadn’t cared because it lined their pockets.
Was I ready?
It didn’t matter. I was born for it. Bled for it. It was my father’s legacy, so I would honor it.
I nodded once. That was all she needed. She turned back to the man who was the only blood we had left. “Did you love us even a little, or were we always pawns to you?”
“Neither.” He managed a fake smile as he spewed more hatred. Trying to get in one more hurt before he was gone. “You were mistakes who should have died with your parents.”
She sliced. His blood sprayed the walls as she pressed the blade so far into his neck the handle jammed against the entry wound. His choked gasps for air soothed my pain. His eyes, slowly draining of light, healed my scars.
He killed more than just my parents that day. He’d killed a piece of my soul.
12
Emma
Itook slow steadying breaths as I listened to the rain through the window. I imagined I was somewhere else. Curled up with a book in my lap. Or doing a rain photo shoot. I could almost see the smiling faces of a couple.
My body jerked as the timer went off on my phone. It echoed loudly in my tiny apartment bathroom, sending me back to reality. My eyes were slammed shut, my head hanging down over the sink, praying I didn’t throw up. My fingers gripped the edge of the counter so tight they’d gone numb. My jaw clenched as my stomach turned. I was a mess, anxiety finding any outlet it could.
I waited, hoping I’d suddenly feel strong enough to look at the test. But no strength came. So I grit my teeth and turned it over anyways. Doing what I’d always done, facing reality because no one else would. No one would come save me. No one would fix my problems. All I had was me.
My entire body stilled. My mind ran a mental calculation. Bile rose in my throat again. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. It was my worst nightmare coming to life.
No. No. No. No.
My chest constricted as I looked at the two pink lines. The air rushed from my lungs as I collapsed onto the floor, the pregnancy test scattered to the ground. This couldn’t be happening.
I never wanted this. I couldn’t do it. Bring a child into the world knowing the genetics I’d pass down. Knowing whatever toxicity lived in my genes, the one that had created three addicts in the same family, could do the same to them.
I wasn’t capable of caring for them. How could I be? I’d never had an example. I was only barely surviving myself.
