Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
She still looked pissed off as fuck, glaring at the body like it was still Darius, living and breathing, and she wished vengeance upon him like the head of the mob.
“Ma.” I tried to bring her back to me, tried to help her process the rage that couldn’t be satiated. “Ma . . .” I rubbed her shoulder and then her back.
She finally calmed herself and looked at me, blood splattered all over her beautiful face.
“He’s dead. It’s done.”
She shook her head slightly. “It’ll never be done for me, Constantine.” Then her eyes started to water as the grief replaced the rage. “I don’t care what Edric did, if he deserved it or not, it’ll never be done for me.”
I continued to rub her back. “You aren’t alone, because it’ll never be done for me either.”
Her eyes watered so much that tears dripped down her cheeks. She closed them before she nodded.
“But you gave that asshole what he deserved and saved everyone here, Ma.”
“I wasn’t trying to save everyone,” she said quietly. “I just . . . I heard what he said . . . and I fucking lost it.” Tears continued to stream down her cheeks. “Like I’d ever let him walk free after what he did to my boy. I’d do it again . . . and fucking again.”
“I know,” I said gently.
She breathed and sniffed, her eyes on the tile, and it was only then that she looked at herself and realized she was soaked in another man’s blood. “How’s Aurelia?”
“Shaken up but okay. She’ll be all right.”
“The baby?”
“I felt them kick a couple minutes ago.”
“Good.”
“I’m sorry about all this. I thought I’d killed him, but clearly, I hadn’t.”
She watched me, eyes still watery.
“Lost some good friends today because of my stupidity—”
“And you’ve served this country and protected our people for a long time, Constantine. I’m sorry that it ended this way—but at least it ended.” Now her hand moved to my arm to console me. “I know you’ve hunted this man for a long time for what he did to your brother, and I want to apologize for taking a life that you should have taken—but I can’t.”
“You deserve it more than anyone, Ma,” I said. “And truth be told, if you hadn’t, I’m not sure if any of us would be here right now. Because you’re a fucking badass. I know exactly where I get it from.”
Her eyes softened in their wetness, and she looked at the floor. “The love of your child will make you the most powerful person in the room. You’ll see, Constantine. You’ll see . . .”
I found Aurelia sitting on a bench in the courtyard at the clock tower. She must have slipped off on her own to get some space. She was still in her bloody wedding dress, Medusa sitting on one side of her, while Rocco sat on the other, his arm wrapped around her shoulders like he was consoling her in my absence.
When I approached, Rocco shared a look with me, then a nod, to let me know she was doing okay. He wordlessly left the seat, patted me on the arm, and then walked off.
I took the spot next to her, wrapped my arm around her shoulders, and pressed my palm to her belly like my hand was bulletproof.
“How’s your mom?” she asked.
“She’s okay. The adrenaline and rage are fading, and reality is creeping in.”
“I’m glad she killed him. She earned that.”
“Yeah.”
I rubbed her arm as I held her close, the night cool as the ocean breeze blew over the cliffs and into our hair. “I’m sorry about all of this. I should have done more. I should have known . . .”
“Con, it’s okay. It’s over now.”
“But friends as good as family are dead . . . and our wedding day is ruined.”
She stared toward the ocean, the lights from the mainland distantly visible on a clear night like this. “Our wedding was in that church in the eyes of our friends and family and God. It was beautiful and special, and I’ll never forget it. That was our wedding, and nothing could ever tarnish it. I’m just grateful that the outcome of this night wasn’t worse. A lot more people could have died, and at least now he’s really gone. Our country can start to heal from the wounds he inflicted. The Republic is secure under a new emperor. And you and I can raise our baby in this beautiful village without having to look over our shoulders. I know it hurts right now . . . everything hurts . . . but it’ll be okay.”
The heaviness continued through the week, through the joint funerals, and it was only then that people started to move on from what had happened. Taormina was a quiet and safe place where nothing violent or dangerous ever happened, so I knew the village would be forever scarred by what had taken place.