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Harrison narrows his eyes at Colton. “You know who did this.”
Colton nods. “Yes,” he says, speaking clearly and giving it to him straight. “This was the DeCarlo sons and I can guarantee that the go-ahead came from Vincent himself.”
Gasps sound through the room and I don’t doubt how every one of the men and women in this room are remembering a time or two where they have catered to the DeCarlo family through the many meetings they would have had over the years. Not one of them had expected this, but the proof is all around us. We have security footage from the moment they destroyed the front gates, them terrorizing the staff, and the very moment the trigger was pulled, killing the most beloved member of this dysfunctional family.
Harrison stands. “We can not let them get away with this.”
“We won’t,” Colton assures him, slipping his phone out of his pocket that he’d had a maid retrieve for him earlier. He presses a few buttons and holds it to his ear while keeping his determined stare locked on Harrisons.
There’s a short pause before Colton’s deadly tone cuts through the room, sending chills spiraling down my spine. “You will not get away with this,” he warns. “You sent your sons into my home to cause havoc. They took an innocent life and terrorized my staff. They destroyed the home that my father built and for that, I guarantee that each one of them will go down. I’m going to pick them off one by one and I’m going to leave you for last. You are not untouchable, DeCarlo. I’m going to destroy you.”
Chapter 22
I stand in the full-length mirror, staring at the black dress that hangs from my body. How is it possible that I’m about to attend the second funeral in as many weeks? This isn’t right. Is this what Bellevue Springs is really about? Shameless murder, home invasions, and rape?
I hate it here, but there’s a large part of me that can’t force myself to leave.
My eyes drop over my dress. It’s tacky, the same cheap dress I wore to Charles’ funeral but I can’t find the energy to go out and find something new. To be honest, I doubt Maryne would have wanted me to go out and spend what little money I have on a fancy dress. Besides, this funeral may be in Bellevue Springs, but it’s not going to be anything like the last funeral I went to. It’s going to be small, private, and filled with only her closest family and friends.
Letting out a heavy sigh, I walk across my room and grab the hairbrush off my dresser and start on my finishing touches. The funeral doesn’t start for another hour but the last thing I want is to be rushing around, trying to get ready, and then miss the beginning of the service. I won’t do that to Maryne. I know I have a habit of being late for my shifts, but Maryne deserves better.
I put on a little makeup and decide on waterproof mascara, knowing that the emotions are bound to come up and bite me on the ass today. I’d prefer not to look like a drowned rat.
Dropping down on the edge of my bed, I slip on my heels, and check the time. Still forty-five minutes to go. How am I supposed to pass the time?
I’ve spent the last two days with Colton and while it’s kinda been great, it’s also been kinda weird. None of the staff have been in and there’s been an eerie silence that’s taken over the mansion. No one has felt like talking. Harrison has been staring through the back window at Charles’ beloved gardens while Mom has struggled not to break.
I’ve tried to be the glue that holds us all together, but I’m not sure that I possess that power. I mean, for mom maybe, but Colton and I have been together for all of two seconds, and I’m pretty sure Harrison doesn’t even like me.
My phone buzzes on the bed beside me and I glance down to find Nic’s name flashing across the screen. I pick it up and rub my finger over the screen. Usually, I can’t wait to open Nic’s messages but right now … I don’t know. I’m hesitating and I don’t understand why. Maybe it’s the guilt that sits heavy in my gut knowing that things between me and Colton are really starting to develop and I know that at some point, I’m going to have to have the dreaded conversation with Nic, letting him know what’s going on. It’s going to crush him. I’m going to crush him, and he’s either going to pull away from me or glue himself to my side. There’s no in between here. It’s one extreme or the next.
