Page 40 of I Would Die For You

I shouldn’t have come here. I could’ve stayed back, could’ve given us a chance. So what if we’d lost ourselves? Isn’t that what’s happening here now? I paid heed only to my broken heart, hearing only its loud wail of misery. My soul got silenced in that screeching lamentation, when I should’ve been listening to its plea and not this fickle, immature, drama queen beating in my chest.

“Where did I go wrong, Kaya?”

Tears clog my throat so suddenly, I choke for a second. Why isn’t he putting the blame on us, on me? Why is he taking it all on him? It’s not all his fault. Yes, he became a different man when he turned into the enforcer, but did he have a choice? I know the world of the Mafia now—I have no doubt Valentino is keeping apprised of the police enquiry into his father’s death so he’ll be the one who’ll bring justice to the motherfucker who killed his dad. An eye for an eye takes its full meaning in their world. So how could Stefano not have lost his soul on such a path?

Slowly, I turn to him, my throat closing once again upon seeing the pain etched on his face.

“You did nothing wrong, Stefano.”

A small smile graces his lips. “I love how you say my name.”

“How do I say your name?” I ask, frowning.

“Say it again.”

“Stefano.”

He states his name aloud, too. “Can you hear it?”

It’s a definite stress on the f lengthening the full sound.

“I’m serious, Kaya. Where did I go wrong?”

“You didn’t—”

“Porca miseria,” he mutters. “I was only trying to protect you.”

Something he said on our last night in Torino comes back to tickle my mind. “Protect me from what? From Don Giacomo?”

He waves a hand in the air. “No. Not from the Don.”

“Then what? Who?”

It’s only a short moment, but I can see a full spectrum of emotions run over his face. Doubt, worry, deliberation, reluctance, resignation.

“Daku.”

The word hits me like a cannon blast, and I step back without realizing, falling into a heap on the bed when my calves make contact.

“What…what are you talking about?”

I almost think Stefano is either going to barge out or slam his fist in the wall, so much anger and the inevitability of forbearance seem to flare over him.

“The night I was activated,” he starts then pauses. “It was to find him. Because he’d threatened to kill you.”

I open my mouth to say something, but no word comes out.

“But I took care of it. He’s never going to hurt you again.”

My breath hitches. “You killed him?”

“There are fates worse than death.”

The quiet certitude in this statement sends a shiver down my spine. This is the enforcer talking. Not Stefano. Not the man I fell in love with.

That person, he is well and truly lost to me.

Loss. It doesn’t have to happen via death. Just look at us here, now. We’re both still very much alive, yet we’ll never find what we had again.

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