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“This lifestyle feels wrong to me,” I admitted, passing him the poisoned glass.
He didn’t immediately drink it.
“It’s not for everyone.”
“It shouldn’t be for anyone. A child should never have to kill someone,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair.
I shouldn’t have to kill my future child’s father.
The thought broke the floodgates that had been holding all my earlier hesitations at bay. There were too many things to think and feel at once. It wasn’t fair that he’d had to endure killing as a child, but it wasn’t fair that I had endured such a significant loss because of him.
By following through with this, was I perpetuating the same cycle on repeat?
Was I causing more pain than I fixed?
I had Valentino at my back, reminding me that his death was the only way we could thrive, but I had Dante standing before me, showing that he had the potential to be a wonderful father. I saw the strength in his nature and the way he treated me like I was important. I felt at home when I sat beside him.
I knew one day, our child would feel the same way.
Killing him would take that away and destroy all that future happiness.
But the betrayal…the things he’d done…I couldn’t let them slide. I couldn’t let the death of my family go unanswered.
God, this was so fucked up.
This wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.
“I wasn’t killing people at ten years old, Sienna. I was nearly an adult by the time I was brought into this shit.”
I nodded, but his words didn’t matter when I knew the truth. Nothing mattered as I watched him bring the glass to his lips.
He swirled and smelled the wine, nodding in approval before taking a swig.
My body screamed that this was a mistake. This wasn’t right. I shouldn’t be killing him, even though he inadvertently took everything from me. Dante was a criminal and a don, but he wasso kind to me. He killed Cameron when Valentino wouldn’t lift a finger.
It didn’t matter how strong I was. He was there to defend meevery time.
“I was nearly eighteen, Sienna. It was my choice, and it was in defense of my family. I wouldn’t take it back.”
The timelines didn’t add up if that were the case, though.
“Eighteen?”
He nodded, and his throat bobbed. “You don’t have to—” he coughed and shook his head. “It shouldn’t concern you when—”
He coughed again and lunged forward, fluid seeping from his lips.
Eighteen.
Could Valentino have gotten it wrong? My dreams only revealed one man, but I’d been a terrified child. Forgetting something like that wouldn’t be uncalled for.
Why would Dante lie about it, though?
I shook my head as Dante leaned on the table, coughing as if choking on something, but my eyes couldn’t stop drifting between him and the wine. Had I made a mistake?
My body moved before I could make a logical decision.
I knew better than to reveal myself right now. I should stop and let the poison do its job, especially after being told howDante contributed to my father’s death, but what if Valentino got it wrong? Something about these timeframes didn’t fit. My constant dream didn’t fit into the equation.
