Forcing my eyes open and ignoring the burning, I focused on the dead body. Dead eyes.
I released a shuddering breath and forced myself to replace it, filling my lungs. I watched the whole encounter play on repeat in my mind. Over and over and fucking over again.
I guess I’m a killer now.The realization shook me, but I couldn’t find an ounce of regret inside.
He’d hurt my mother, and I wouldn’t let him get his hands on Phoenix.
The gun still sat heavy and cold in my hand. Death was too easy. A simple pull of the trigger, and then it was over.
Something awoke inside me.Dark. Consuming. Vengeful.
I let it fester as the world moved in slow motion. I remembered my childhood. My mother. Her smiling face.Hadshe been happy? It was a question I needed the answer to now more than ever. Maybe our family’s happiness had all been smoke and mirrors. A part of me refused to admit the truth, even to myself. Otherwise, why would my mamma ever have an affair with Angelo Leone of her own free will? I didn’t know.
All I was certain of was that Phoenix could never know. I’d make certain of it.
A dark shadow formed inside me, ripping and tearing at my soul, freeing emotions that I’d never entertained before.Hate.Blinding and consuming. It tasted like acid and blood. These feelings terrified me.
Even as fear gripped my throat, I knew I’d do it all over again if I had to. If I had to kill a million men, I would do it. For her. For our family.
I didn’t know how long I sat there, staring at him, unable to look away, when I heard the soft rustle of the door opening.
Giggles. Whispers.
My eyes strayed to the kitchen entrance, waiting for my sister and friends to appear. It didn’t take long. Then… silence. Deafening. Frightening.
“What… the fuck…” I wasn’t sure who said it, but even in their intoxicated state, a million emotions passed over their somber-looking faces.
I wanted to crawl into my bed and never wake up, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.
“I killed him,” I whispered, my eyes finding my sister’s. “I’m not sorry.”
Nobody moved. Seconds stretched into minutes. It was Athena who finally motioned to the dead corpse.
“Who the fuck is this?” Raven rasped, her eyes glued to the lump on the floor. It seemed the resemblance between Dante and Angelo Leone the corpse wasn’t as evident.
“Did he—” Phoenix swallowed with an audible gulp. “Did he touch you?”
I shook my head as a tremor zipped down my spine. He didn’t rape me, but he’d raped my mother.
“How did he get in?” Athena croaked, looking like a deer in headlights.
I wetted my lips, the cut on my lip stinging, before I spoke. “I answered the door. Before I could shut it, he pushed in.”
Isla stared at the body with a horrified expression before turning to look at me. “Who is he?” Isla asked again.
“Angelo Leone,” Phoenix answered. “Dante and Amon’s father.” Everyone stared back at me, their eyes wider than when they’d first taken in the scene if that were even possible. “Do you think he came because he found out about you and Amon?”
I pulled my knees closer into my chest. “I don’t think so. He—” I cut myself off, not wanting to say too much. It was best my sister and friends didn’t know about Mamma’s history with Angelo Leone. “He seemed drunk,” I ended up saying.
“We have to get rid of the body,” Athena stated.
“Or we’ll go to prison,” Raven added. “Have you seenLes Misérables? French prisons are no joke.”
“Is there a prison that is?” Isla asked wryly.
Their conversation echoed in my head, but it didn’t register. My sister stepped over the blood and kneeled beside me, slipping her hand into mine as if she could sense the chaos running rampant.
She squeezed my hand and I slowly lifted my eyes, meeting her expression. The same blue as mine. The same blue as our mother’s. Beneath my frozen expression, Angelo Leone’s revelation screamed at me.