Page 45 of A Beautiful Crime

These questions, this battle of light and dark, good versus evil, the questions that Constantine evokes in me have plagued me since we met.

He did not only awaken my body but he has also awakened the moral compass in which I thought had been destroyed.

How is it that the man who is the Devil himself is resurrecting the human qualities in me?

And in that very same process he’s also managing me to willingly dive deeper in the dark abyss by simply taking his hand.

Constantine Donati promises a world that is dark but he also offers glimpses of light.

And it begs the question, if one can be considered all evil yet possess qualities of goodness are they really evil?

Does possessing darkness mean that one can not also possess light?

Questions.

Maddening torturous questions.

A loud pounding of a fist meeting wood jars me and jolts me out of my thoughts.

“Time is up, Carina,” the deep voice that belongs to Gino, my bodyguard, informs me.

I hear the deep sigh come from Father Frank and I wish I could echo his sentiment.

I do, however, roll my eyes with great annoyance. And in the comfort of the confessional, shielded in privacy, I don’t have to face the consequences for displaying disrespect.

Not that Gino would care. On most days I swear that he annoys me to rouse a reaction out of me.

But with this privacy I take the small victory and let it fill me with a sense of pride as the barest hint of a smile forms on my lips.

“You haven’t made your confession yet, my child,” Father reminds me.

“Another time, Father,” I reply lightly, softly, knowing that Gino is on the other side and can hear our conversation very well.

“Of course, my child, but I ask of you one thing,” he pauses for effect and I wait rather patiently for what his wishes are. “Try to find the light even in the darkest of corners. Can you do that for me, my child?”

Lying to a priest is not something I want to add on the list of crimes that I have committed. “Of course, Father.” And yet the lie flows easily from lips. If I hadn’t already damned my soul to Hell, this only solidifies it.

He hums, this time sounding pleased.

I exit the confessional, leaving with more confusion and sin than I had before I walked in.

Gino nods his head in my direction and regards me with his steel-blue eyes. His lips are set in a firm line and his square jaw is tense. He stands wide, with his feet apart and his hands crossed in front of his silver belt buckle. I know under his suit jacket, that is tailored to fit him perfectly, hides a gun tucked in the back of his waistband. And the inside of his jacket holds multiple knives and weaponry beyond my knowledge.

Gino has always been one who appreciates his weaponry. So, it comes to no surprise to me when I see him reach inside his suit jacket with his long skilled fingers and retrieve a dagger to weave in between his fingers without it slicing his skin.

I raise a cool brow. “Still not fond of The Catholic Church?”

The dagger stops weaving between his middle and ring finger as he stares at me with hard eyes. “All churches are the same, Carina,” he says flatly. Gino is the only person outside of my family, and Constantine, to address me by my first name. His eyes fleet around the space, taking in the pews, the altar, the cross, and the beautiful stained glass. Whereas others eyes would be filled with awe, his are filled with revulsion. “Filled with nothing but hypocrites and the worst kind of sinners.”

I can’t disagree with him. Even when I was younger, when mamma had made me learn and recite the Bible I never quite believed in it like she did. Yes, I had believed in goodness and redemption and forgiveness but that didn’t come from God. That came from my mamma and the lens my papa controlled. When you only see the beauty in life it is easy to believe that those things exist.

“If you dislike churches so much why don’t you request another soldier to guard me?” I don’t ask because of my curiosity, but rather to keep the conversation going. Giuseppe and Gino are the only two who I can hold conversations with.

He points the dagger at me before waving it in the direction towards the exit where the outside world exists. “Because I’m the only one who is qualified to keep you safe.”

If amusement could dance in my eyes, it would. Gino holds himself highly above the other soldiers. And perhaps in a way I don’t blame him. From the soldiers I have seen none of them are as masterly skilled as him. “Are you saying papa’s soldiers are unqualified?

Gino scoffs. “What I’m saying, Carina, is none of them are better than me.”

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