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-Lilah-
God, god, god, FUCK.
The world speeds up again.
Men—four of them—move to Paulie, if not a few moments too late, and restrain him.
I’m shocked no one shot him, but in a way, I’m relieved.
If someone gets to have his blood on their hands, I want it to be me,
“You fucking idiot!” I shout.
I’m not talking to Paulie, though.
I’m yelling at my idiotic husband who just took a fucking bullet for me.
“You fucking idiot! I can’t believe you just fucking did that, Carmine Dante Romano Carluccio!”
“Delilah, get the fuck out of here,” he says as I move to him on the floor, trying to find exactly where he was hit.
“Til death do us part my ass, Dante. You die, I’m finding a way to hold you in fucking purgatory until I die so I can torture your ass.” He smiles and relief pours through me before I see a dark stain starting to bloom on the dark gray of his suit jacket. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where were you hit, you dumbass!? Can you stop being Mister Tough Guy for fucking once and tell me where you’re hurt?”
“Lilah, wrong time,” he says, tipping his chin. “Please, for the love of god, go to Marco. Get out of here.” When I look to where he tipped his chin, I see that the men who have been holding back Paulie are struggling.
Somehow, in that moment, it becomes clear.
I can’t leave.
I can’t let Marco take me out, keep me safe.
This is the moment I become the Donna.
I was sworn in, but this is the true test.
If this doesn’t end now, it never will. I’ll be living in fear of this man for the rest of my life. One way or another, Paulie has to be done tonight.
And after everything he’s put me through, everything his father and his grandfather put my family through, I want to be the one to do it.
More importantly, I don’t want his blood on Dante’s hands. Dante, who is moving to sitting despite the blood stain growing, fumbling for his weapon to point it at his nephew.
It’s my turn to get some blood on my soul.
If Dante is already damned to Hell, I better make sure I meet him there.
Quickly, I stand, reaching down to the slit of my long dress I changed into for the party, grabbing the small weapon I placed into my garter at the top of the thigh-high stockings I wore today.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” I hear Marco say in dismay, but it doesn’t matter.
“Lilah!” I hear Dante shout through gritted teeth, but that doesn’t matter either.
I have one shot.
One shot before I lose my chance.
The men can’t hold him much longer.
So just like how Dante taught me, I turn off the distractions.
