Page 82 of Destined for the Devil
Immediately, my little sarcastic smile was wiped off my face. How much did he say?! That was an insane amount of money! What the fuck was he doing hanging out in L.A. and spending his time with a woman who could barely make ends meet to rent an apartment?
I always thought that people who had that much money would be doing other things. Like eating caviar in Paris or bathing in Cristal champagne or something.
"Wow. I didn't realize people could even have that much money."
"Did you even look to see what you're inheriting from your parents?" Roman spoke curiously, surprising me with the question. Why would he even ask that?
"Yeah. Some cash, and a bunch of funds." I answered, trying not to think about any of it.
"Uh huh. Did you look to see how much was in those funds?" He probed again.
I tried to think back to my meeting with the lawyer after my parents’ death. I was grieving, broken from the tragedy, barely paying attention to what I was signing. I certainly didn’t look into any details.
"I don't…I don't think so..." I wondered out loud, distracted by the scenery. But the thought about my parents made me want to do something else—I wanted to show Roman where we used to live. I punched the address into the GPS on his car, doubting my decision. “Let’s go here first.”
His gaze flicked to the address, and I knew he recognized it. Asking no questions, he followed the new route.
And there it was—the house I grew up in. Roman pulled up to the curb, and tears poured down my cheeks. It felt good, like crying was my natural state of being.
I jumped out but stopped on the sidewalk right in front, mesmerizedby the sight. Roman’s car door shut, and he slowly came to stand beside me.
The house looked so different but also exactly the same. The new family had new planters and a wind chime. They had repainted the garage door, and two cars were parked in the driveway.
Overwhelmed by memories and emotions, I began my little story. "My room faced the backyard. We had a pool, and one time, I watched my cat accidentally fall in there; it was hilarious." Our cat’s name was Snuffles because he was always a loud breather.
"When I was a teenager, I'd invite my girlfriends over, and we would swim in the pool and then make lemonade and talk about boys. I really liked this one boy when I was in my junior year, and without me knowing, they invited him and his friends over one afternoon. I felt so in love with him." I chuckled, wiping my tears.
Then I pointed to the second-floor window that faced the street. "That was my parents' room. One year, Ben—that was my brother’s name—accidentally broke the window when we were playing catch outside. My mom gotsomad at him! But Dad called someone to fix it right away.”
I pointed to the driveway next. “I fell right there when I was like ten and busted my knee open on the stones, so Dad had it replaced the next week with asphalt. To make sure it would be somewhat softer." I pushed the words out through my tears, but Roman just stood there quietly, listening with his hands in his pockets.
"We had the neighbor kid come to mow the lawn the last few years that we lived here because my dad said it would help him learn the value of hard work and money. It's a lot of grass to cut!” My eyes caught on the beautiful flowers blooming underneath the family room windows. “Oh, one year, after I watched Father of the Bride, I got so inspired by the flowers they had in front of their house that I begged my mom toplant something similar in our flower beds. See? They're still there!"
I had so much more to say. I could have talked for hours, telling him all about how we had a swing hanging from the tree branch in the front and little kids would sneak onto it in the summer. How I did cartwheels on the front lawn with my best friend in elementary school. How my father fixed mine and Ben’s bikes in the garage, and Mom brought us popsicles right before the bike ride.
Instead, I turned to him and asked. "Do you understand? What you've ruined? What you did? How much pain and suffering you've caused me?" I was so sad. I couldn't stop crying, but Roman stared at the sidewalk, refusing to meet my eyes. "In one day, youdecimateda family, a whole life story! You murdered not just the owner of Anders C & C; you killed a man who loved his family. A man who cared deeply for his kids and his wife. And! You murdered my mom! An innocent bystander who had nothing to do with the business! You took it all away. Everything!"
Sobs tore through me, all of me helpless to stop the grief that had been unearthed once more. My mind floated in all the memories, all the hopes I had. I so wanted to get ready for my wedding at my parents' house and to walk out the front door in my wedding dress.
I buried my face in my hands and sobbed harder, standing in front of the man responsible for my tragedy. Hopelessly in love with him!
That man took a step closer and wrapped his arms around me, tenderly pressing me against his chest. In his embrace, he walked me to the back seat of his car, helping me climb in and joining me.
He held me while I cried. Silently, he supported me, kissing the top of my head, rubbing my back, and holding me there—right at his chest. His white shirt was wet with my tears, his heart beating into my ear.
We stayed like that for a long time, until my sobs turned into sniffles and then my sniffles turned into deep breaths. He waited patiently, helping me calm down, never letting go.
"Baby..." he whispered so gently. "I'm so, so sorry for what I did. If I could take it all back, I would. I would take it back one hundred times." He promised. "But I can't. I did something awful. I do…bad things. I've done many, many bad things, and your family fell victim to it." His cold words were softened by his touch. "I’ll spend therestof my life making it up to you, Angel.” His voice cracked, none of this becoming any easier. “I love you beyond measure, Isla. I love you more than I love life. If I can't be with you, I don't have a reason to be." He sniffled, holding me tighter. Fuck, his words were melting my anger away. "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry for what I did."
Roman pulled me in closer, and just like that, we sat in front of my old house, both of us silently crying. How could life be so cruel? To bring us together? To give us this love, only to rip it away? Everything would have been simpler for both of us if we’d never met.
"Come back to me, Isla. Comeback, baby," Roman pleaded, his lips at my hair, his arms squeezing my body tighter.
Isowanted to. Isowanted to be with him forever. But there was no way to argue it in my mind. How could I be with and love the person who was responsible for the death of my parents? It didn’t just soundwrong; it sounded like I had some sort of deep emotional instability to voluntarily do that.
"Roman...I love you." I said it. I said the three words that I swore to myself I would never say to him again. Sitting up in his lap, I finally gazed into his sorrowful eyes. "But how can I possibly be with someone who killed my parents? I can't…can't understand it."
"Then don't think of it like that!” He responded passionately. “You're making it sound like I'm some sort of crazy person who broke into your house and did that. Isla.” Roman suddenly turned serious. “Your father knew the risks."
