Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
He nodded, his expression grave in a way that told me something horrible had happened. I tried to sit up. Dad and Amo reached for me at the same time, then halted and their eyes met. I waited for the inevitable but Dad sank back down with a tight expression and allowed Amo to help me into a sitting position. I sent Dad a grateful smile. He gave a small nod. I knew how much this must cost him.
Mom stirred on the sofa and when her eyes landed on me, her tired face lit up with relief and she shoved to her feet and rushed over to me. She kissed my forehead several times before she leaned against Dad. Dark shadows spread under her eyes and both Amo and Dad hadn’t shaved in days. Dark stubble covered their chin and jawline.
Amo peered down at me with drawn brows as he rubbed my hand gently. “How do you feel?”
His voice was careful and gentle, as if a word spoken too loudly might break me.
I wasn’t sure I could speak. My throat felt dry and too tight but after a couple of coughs I pressed out the first tentative words. “I’m alive.” I’d thought I would die. It had felt like dying. But I was here. “Where’s Nevio?”
The last time I’d talked to him, we’d argued. Maybe he was still angry, though I couldn’t imagine that being the case. The memories after my attack were murky. He might have been there afterward but I couldn’t put together the pieces of my memory to make sense.
The other, more likely explanation why he wasn’t here was him being on a rampage trying to kill everyone who might be responsible for what had happened.
“He’s getting coffee,” Mom said. “We all didn’t sleep much these last few days.”
“Days? How long was I unconscious?”
“They kept you under for five days.”
For them to do so I must have suffered severe internal injuries and possibly infection. Face your fears was what Dad always said but I was terrified when I looked down my body. I could feel thick bandages around my abdomen and my leg was in a cast.
“Do you know who did it?” I asked instead of the more burning questions in my head.
Amo’s mouth tightened, a hateful gleam in his eyes. “Cressida.”
I nodded. I had suspected something like that. While my family had many enemies, the timing had been too obvious. Jealousy, or maybe fury over losing her position in the Famiglia, were potent incentives.
“Don’t kill her on my behalf, okay? I don’t want anyone to die.”
Amo looked down, a muscle in his jaw working. I could see how difficult it was for him to fight for composure. Acute fear spread in my body.
I turned to Dad. “Dad.”
The look in his eyes told me it was too late to save Cressida. “What happened?” I glanced toward Amo. “Did you kill her?”
Amo shook his head. “I was on my way here the second your father told me what happened. I wanted to be by your side and I haven’t left since then.”
I closed my eyes briefly, realization settling in. I knew who my avenging angel had been, the one person who wore this mask with ease. “Nevio.”
Amo nodded. “He flew over to New York a day after the attack and returned two days ago.
While I was relieved that it hadn’t been Amo who’d killed his own wife, something he would definitely have done if Nevio hadn’t been quicker, I felt a deep sadness for Nevio. Eventually all this killing and rage would take the last of his light and plunge him into eternal darkness. “This will make things worse. People in the Famiglia are going to demand blood.”
“They can count themselves lucky your brother only killed that woman and not her entire rotten family. That’ll have to wait until later,” Dad growled.
“Don’t kill more people for me. One life is enough.”
“For what you lost, her life isn’t enough retribution,” Amo said in a raw voice.
My brows puckered. “What did I lose?”
Amo looked away, his expression twisted with something very dark. Dad rose to his feet and looked at Mom. “Fina, can you?”
Dad never shied back from a confrontation.
“Will I ever walk again?” Seeing the state of my knee that was the only explanation for their overwhelming sadness. Maybe my knee was shattered so badly, I would never dance again.
Mom’s face softened. “Yes. But the doctors can’t say about ballet yet. It’ll take months for you to regain mobility in your leg.” I could tell there was more they hadn’t told me yet.
Amo still clutched my hand.
“Maybe you can give us a moment,” Mom told Amo and Dad. Amo met my gaze, and the look in his let a heavy weight settle in the pit of my stomach. He kissed the back of my hand then my lips before he rose to his feet. He and Dad walked out of the room.