Page 28 of Deadly Vows

I groan in pain, my struggle weakening by the second as I take quick breaths.

“You shot me,” I manage. Tears spill from my eyes, soaking my hair.

“I only shot through you. I didn’t hit anything major. I had to aim for a place that would knock him on his ass, though. You’ll pull through,” he says.

Luca removes his stained jacket, pressing the clean area against my wound. I scream from the pain, begging him to stop, but he doesn’t. I feel a new emotion festering inside of me as he continues to cause me more pain. His eyes are focused on his task, but I still find the strength to speak.

“I…hate you.”

1. Son

2. Father-in-Law

3. Lower your weapons!

Chapter Twelve

Elise

Lorenzo Pasquino is dead.

This not only means that someone assassinated the Capo but that Luca has been forced into the position he was patiently waiting for his father to pass to him. Since that night, Luca has changed drastically. His personality has shifted inward, rarely speaking. He only ever does so to pass off a command. He doesn’t share meals with me, nor a bed. He’s completely lost himself in grief, and I am not equipped to bring him out of it. Not when I feel the way I do about him and his father. Not when this arrangement is one that neither of the men who created it is here to see fall apart.

Luca and I are both orphans now. We were both forced into that role. It’s ironic, sitting front row at his father’s funeral when I was banned from my own father’s. The tense emotions that hang in the air are more suffocating than the humid aftermath of the rain. Luca sits next to me, rigid with unreleased emotion, as he watches his father’s casket lower into the ground. But Iknow he is broken from it. He is alone like me. I slowly lift my hand, grabbing his in support as he goes through one of the most challenging moments of his life. I don’t know how else to comfort him. I hated his father. And I’m glad the man is dead. I have no words of encouragement or comfort for what a good man he was.

In my eyes, he was the closest thing to the devil.

I myself have retreated inward, hoping to avoid my husband in every sense of the word. Luca, the medical magician that he is, missed any vital organs when shooting through me to incapacitate his enemy. Physically, I was never in any danger. My wounds have already begun to heal, and I can move around better than when it first happened. But the emotional impact is still there, along with physical pain. I now know he is capable of anything when it comes to him and victory. I am not an obstacle that can be used as leverage. He’s shown everyone that.

Luca’s reign will probably be worse than his father’s. And now that the target has moved to Luca’s back, I know things will become more difficult for both of us in the future, especially if my family has anything to do with this. Luca has already suspected them of several problems he’s had since our marriage. He sees the Trovolis as insects beneath the Pasquino empire. And he is determined to wipe their stain from the face of the earth. However, with the addition of his father’s death to those problems, I don’t know where I stand in that plan.

Once the funeral ends, we go to Luca’s father’s home for the wake. He was a man who enjoyed luxury much like his son, the interior of his home as extravagant as the exterior. I can’t help but wonder as people flock through the home, who some of them are. I recognize some of the important societal figureheads who also attended our wedding—once again proving the power of the Pasquino empire. Luca’s father’s clients have now become his, as has the power.

It’s a terrifying thing to witness.

As I watch Luca speak to these strangers, I feel a chill slowly settling onto my flesh. He has seamlessly stepped into the leadership role his father left behind. I always knew he carried an air of authority about him. But watching the amount of power his father had drift to him in the span of a few hours is mind-numbing. These people now serve him with even more resolve, flocking to be at his beck and call should he need them.

I plaster on a fake smile as I watch the latest group of constituents leave, when Luca breaks through my thoughts.

“I can see that smile is fake from a mile away. Try grinning at most,” Luca grumbles next to me. My smile slowly drops, and I look into my glass for strength.

“I’m only trying to be supportive,” I murmur.

Now Luca looks at me. His expression is murderous as his eyes roam over me, sizing me up before he speaks.

“Supportive,” he scoffs, “I know you’re reveling in this.”

I flinch from his tone. He hates me right now. And there’s nothing I can say to deter that hatred hours after he buried his father. I slowly breathe in a deep sigh before facing Luca.

“Yes, I wasn’t the biggest fan of your father. But I know what it feels like to lose one,” I say.

Luca studies me, his eyes narrowing. His gaze shifts to the glass in my hand, and he gently pulls it from me before speaking.

“Your father had no love for you. He was a tyrant who did awful things to secure his place. He harmed people everywhere he went, dragging those who wanted nothing to do with him down. Do not compare our grief, Elise. We have not lost the same thing,” he growls.

I blink in shock, unable to form a sentence from the sheer hatred of his words, but he turns away from me before I can respond to continue mingling among the crowd. It takes me a moment to realize my chest aches from his words.

They hurt.

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