I read him the address. He whistles low, gives me a look in the rear-view mirror. “Fancy place.”
I don’t answer. Just stare out the window as we pull away, the city twisting around me in a blur of motion and noise.
Twenty minutes later, we’re outside a sprawling estate, gates black and gleaming under the streetlights. My pulse kicks as I pay the driver and step out, my sneakers crunching against the gravel driveway.
The house looms in front of me, too big, too expensive, toomuch.
Two rows of tall palm trees line the driveway. I look up and see the vast balconies adorning the windows of the enormous and ostentatious house. The driver hops out and runs to thetrunk, yanking out my oversized bag. I get out, choking on the humid air, and thank the driver.
I take a breath, adjust my bag on my shoulder, and move toward the front door.
All I know is what Truman and I have read about or that Marcy has told me. The Testa family, the wealthiest of the four, resides in Miami. Testa’s are known for controlling the shipping ports. Think cameras, computers, leather goods, or jewelry. The boss, my uncle Leo, supposedly runs the family like it’s comprised of venture capital instead of loved ones.
Uncle Leonardo. My murdered birth father’s brother. Also known as: The Blood King.
Guess that makes me royalty.
41
Present
Eli has gone to a hotel for the night. Marcy retired hours ago, the late nights of the last week taking a toll on her.
The room feels heavy, the silence between us thick with the weight of what’s unspoken. I’m lying next to Truman in Marcy’s guest bed, the soft hum of the night air seeping through the cracks in the window. The room is dark except for the faint glow of the bedside lamp, casting long shadows on the walls. I can barely breathe, my chest tight with all I’ve been carrying, and the moment feels like it’s stretching on forever.
Truman’s warm body is next to mine, and I feel his presence like a grounding force, steady and unyielding. His fingers gently trace circles along the bare skin of my arm, as if trying to calm me, soothe the restless energy that I can’t seem to control. His touch is gentle, deliberate—exactly what I need right now albeit not what I deserve. I feel the heat of him beside me, but it doesn’t comfort me the way it used to.
“Evany,” Truman’s voice is low, just above a whisper, but it cuts through the quiet like a lifeline. I hate him calling me that. “You have to take the deal. The witness protection deal. It’s the only way you’ll be safe. You understand that, right?”
I close my eyes, swallowing hard, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me. It’s the last thing I want to hear. The last thing I want to face. Leaving my whole life behind. How could I ever leave him?
I pull the covers up over my head, trying to shut it all out, but the reality of what’s happening crashes over me again. The danger that still lurks. My body trembles with the effort it takes to hold it all together.
Truman shifts beside me, his arm sliding around my waist, pulling me close until I can feel the beat of his heart against mine. His warmth, his steadiness, which I’ve always run to, now feels as if it’s slipping through my fingers.
“I can’t leave you, Truman,” I murmur, the words barely escaping my lips. “I can’t leave you behind.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and when he speaks, his voice is thick with emotion. “Evany, I can’t live with the thought of you out there, alone. You’re finally free. You deserve peace.”
I shake my head, not wanting to hear it, not wanting to face the truth that’s staring me in the face.
“But what about you? You have your sister, your brother, your parents, your friends. You have your career, Truman. You’ve worked so hard for all of this. I can’t ask you to throw it all away for me. I won’t.”
His grip tightens on me, as if he’s trying to hold me together, trying to steady me when I feel like I’m about to fall apart.
“I’m not asking you to leave me. I’m asking you to choose a life that’s safe. A life where you can finally breathe without looking over your shoulder every second of the day.”
I pull away slightly, looking up at him through the dim light, my eyes filled with unshed tears. “What?”
Truman’s eyes soften, his thumb brushing a stray tear from my cheek. He looks at me like he’s searching, like he’s waiting for me to finally understand.
“You’re everything to me,” he says quietly, his voice raw with emotion. “I’ve waited my whole life for you to come back to me. I can’t lose you again. Not now.”
His words hit me like a wave, and I feel the ground beneath me slip away. My heart aches at the intensity in his eyes. I’ve always known Truman loves me, but I never accepted the depth of it until this moment. The way he’s looking at me now, like I’m all that matters, like he’s willing to burn the world to the ground just to keep me safe.
“You… you’d give up everything?” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “Your family? Your friends? Your career?”
He nods, his gaze unwavering. “For you? Yes. I’ve already made my choice. You’re it. You’re all that matters to me. If I have to walk away from it all to be with you, I will. I’ve been waiting for you since you left.”