Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
His second call was to Giancarlo, who was in charge of their family's personal security. Cesare would bet his life that his eldest brother still had bodyguards shadowing Penelope's every move even if they were no longer betrothed—-and he was right.
"I'll text you the number of Penelope's head of security." Giancarlo made the offer as soon as he realized what had happened. "Do you need anything else?"
"Prayers." And Cesare was deadly serious. "I need you to pray that I still have a shot at getting her back."
"Dio sia con te, fratello." God be with you, brother.
And finally, his last call was to a number he had blocked almost a month ago.
Please pick up. Per favore, tesoro. Pick up. Please.
But her phone only kept ringing until it went into voice mail.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He dialed the number from Giancarlo's text, but the tension gripping his chest didn't fucking loosen even as Penelope's bodyguard answered his call on the first ring—-
"Mi dispiace, signore."
And that was because...a part of him had already known he had his punishment coming.
No, Dio, no.
It wasn't just the words from Penelope's bodyguard that made his blood run cold. It was also the noise he heard in the background. The wailing of sirens and law enforcement officers radioing in details of a crime scene. Ambulance doors being thrown open and first responders wheeling out stretchers.
He fucking knew what all of those could mean—-
Please. God. Please.
"Just fucking tell me," Cesare said rawly. "Is she safe? Is my Penelope alive?"
Chapter Fifteen
Penelope
I'M NOT SURE HOW MUCH time has passed since the sound of gunshots had caused guys in suits to come barging into Greg's room. But by that time, it was too late.
I've already taken a man's life...again.
As for everything that's happened after that...it's all pretty much a blur. I vaguely remember those same guys telling me they're my bodyguards and emergency responders checking my vitals. A local law enforcer or two may also have questioned me. Or maybe it was the press. I'm not really sure.
It's just too hard to concentrate, and I can't even remember how it's been since the police escorted me to a vacant room that's right next to the motel's reception.
Right now, the only thing that's stark clear in my mind is...that.
I took a man's life.
Again.
My brain tells me I had no choice. It's self-defense, and unlike before, I know for a fact that Greg was not a good man, and he would've killed me if I hadn't killed him first. Those are the facts...but they mean shit to my heart, which has been shriveling in shame since I made a grab for Greg's gun...and accidentally fired it straight into his heart in the process.
I'm sorry, God, I'm sorry.
It's almost like I have this knack for shooting evil men dead, and I wonder if it's a skill that I may have inherited from the criminal side of my family. Once a sinful famiglia, always a sinful famiglia. Maybe that's just how these things go, and this is a case of an apple never falling far—-
"Penelope?"
I haven't even heard the door open, but one thing I'm heartbreakingly sure of is that voice.
Cesare.
Even though I know it can only be him, a shudder still violently rocks my body as soon as my head jerks up, and my stricken gaze collides with his.
He's standing by the doorway, still dressed in the same clothes I've seen him in earlier, and his too-handsome face still bearing faint evidence of the beating he had endured while in jail. His pallor is unmistakable, but I'm not going to fool myself into thinking it's because he's concerned about me.
My lip starts to tremble as I watch him stride in.
I want to cry.
I want to scream.
I want to run away.
But when he finally reaches me, and he crouches down on one knee—-
God, it hurts.
The pain is just too much, and my heart is aching just too hard, that all I can do is breathe.
"That girl you saw with me—-" He's speaking so damn fast, it's as if he wants to make sure he gets everything out before I can escape him. "It's Gazelle, tesoro. My sister."
His...sister?
"I knew you didn't recognize her, and I deliberately let you think she was someone else."
Because he wanted to hurt me.
"I'm sorry," Cesare says jerkily. "Forgive me. Please."
He speaks as if each and every word is whipping his soul—-but how can I believe him, after everything that he's confessed, and after everything I've found out?
"I n-need you to tell me the truth," I say stiltedly. "G-Greg told me...b-before he...before we started fighting over the gun..."
"Penelope—-"
"I need to know the truth!"
My voice cracks in the end, and the way his face whitens tells me more than I want to know.
God, oh God.
"Perdonami. Forgive me."
But because I'm still so, so damn foolish, there's still the tiniest part of me hoping that I have it all wrong.