Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
A news presenter comes on, sitting behind a pristine white desk and dressed in an equally white designer dress. A video recording of firefighters dousing the flames plays out on a big screen behind her while a small square pops up in the corner with real-time footage of the anchor.
The presenter flashes a row of straight white teeth that’s as perfect as her styled hair and flawless make-up. “Our anchor, Charlotte Davis, is at the scene. Charlotte, we understand that the explosion could’ve been caused by a rocket.”
“What the…?” Jazz mumbles, her features frozen in a look of horror.
The beep in the room picks up its pace as the facts sink in.
“Yes, Alicia,” the anchor says. “A group of adolescents who were camping nearby said they heard a noise and saw a blaze that looked like the tail of rocket. A second later, the vehicle in the middle of the three-car convoy exploded. Both cars at the front and back were impacted. The ATF hasn’t confirmed the cause of the explosion yet.”
The presenter folds her manicured hands on the desk. “What about the other casualties?” She checks a piece of paper that lies in front of her. “An early police report says the attack claimed eleven victims.”
“That’s right, Alicia. The victims have been identified.” The anchor looks me straight in the eyes as she continues. “Mr. Teszner was traveling with nine bodyguards and his wife.”
My ears start ringing. My head buzzes. I swear there’s only cottonwool where my brain is supposed to be in my skull.
Jazz looks at me quickly, her blue eyes round.
I feel as if I’m in someone else’s body, as if this isn’t happening to me but to a different person.
It can’t be. I begin to shake. The beep in the room intensifies, the continuous sound hurting my ears and grating on my nerves.
Someone shot a rocket at the convoy in which my parents and their guards were traveling. Their route was top secret. My father had been paranoid about keeping his itineraries guarded. No one knew when he’d leave the house, and when he did, only his closest guards and the driver knew the roads he’d take.
But I did.
The men talked around me as if I didn’t exist.
The truth twists like a corkscrew into my stomach. Not even Leander knew the route my father planned on taking tonight. My mother had no idea either.
But I did.
I did because I heard them when I hovered outside his study, searching for the right moment to tell him I was pregnant.
And I told Dante. He asked me when my father would be out so we could have one whole night together.
So I told him everything.
He knew.
My mother was right.
Dante used me.
He told me himself he and my father were enemies, that my father could never know we were seeing each other in secret.
No.
I think I may break apart. My heart shatters into shards inside my chest. I clutch a hand over my stomach as if I can protect my baby from the vicious betrayal of his father.
Jazz, who knows my family as well as she knows her own, covers her mouth with both hands. Her chest moves rapidly, matching the rhythm of the pulse drumming in my ears. I told her about our plans, what Dante and I were going to do.
“Tiana.” Her tone is brittle. “Did you tell him?”
My selfishness is my worst punishment, tearing me apart. How I hate myself.
The only sound I’m capable of making is a raw, animalistic cry that twists my mouth. I can’t speak. I can’t say it, because doing so will mean I have to admit the truth.
It’s my fault that they died. They paid with their lives because I wanted to sleep in Dante’s arms.
My blind love and stupid naivety are the reasons my mother is dead.
Chapter
Four
Tatiana
* * *
For a week, I do nothing but grieve.
Even as my body heals, my soul dies a little more each day.
My mother paid my medical bill in advance. She was clever enough to have done so in cash. She never left anything to chance. She believed in always being prepared for any unforeseen event. For that reason, she’d stashed away a small sum of cash she’d pinched from the grocery allowance every week until, over the years, it had accumulated in a substantial amount of money, which she’d hidden behind a loose tile on the side of her tub.
Every so often, she’d take me into her bathroom and show me the plastic bags filled with banknotes so that I wouldn’t forget where to find them if anything happened to her. She’d said it was our secret, that Leander and my father weren’t to know about the money.
She was right to have settled the cost of my treatment at the clinic in cash. Leander would’ve traced her credit card payment to find me. He’s reached out to me on social media via direct messages. I used one of the nurse’s phones to check if there was any news from Dante. A part of me still hoped what had happened was a misunderstanding and that I was mistaken. I told the nurse I wanted to get in touch with my family. She was kind enough to let me browse on her phone for a few minutes every day while she was dressing my wounds.