Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“It’s not about being unfaithful.” I glance out at the passing scenery. “It’s about making one wrong choice, one move that has the potential to be devastating. Do you think my father had any idea that night when he walked out of our house that his decision would cost him so much? He made a careless choice in a moment of weakness, and it changed everything. It fucking paralyzes me every time I think about it. I question everything I do, wondering if it’s right. Just because it hasn’t happened yet, doesn’t mean it won’t. There will come a day that I fuck it up. It’s inevitable.”
I can feel Angelo’s gaze on my face as he quietly acknowledges that I just told him more than I’ve probably ever told anyone.
“It is inevitable,” he agrees. “You will fuck it up.”
I turn to him, meeting his gaze.
“Because you’re human, Alessio. That’s what we do. We fuck up. We hurt each other. I can guarantee you it’s a species-wide problem. You’ve condemned yourself to a life of isolation, and for what? Your fears won’t protect your family and distancing yourself won’t protect you. There are no guarantees in life. You can’t stop the clock or change their fate. But you can pull your head out of your ass and make the most of the time you’ve been given. You have a wife and son who care about you, and if you don’t stop shutting them out, there will come a day when it will be too late. They won’t forgive you for the time you’ve lost. When it’s all said and done, you’ll be remembered as the man who couldn’t love them.”
I close my eyes and lean my head against the seat. My chest hurts, and it feels like I’m fucking dying.
“You aren’t dying,” Angelo mutters. “That’s what us other humans call an emotion. Get used to it.”
“Did I say that out loud?” I groan.
“Yes, you did. Now do me a favor. Do us both a favor. Fix this shit.”
“The Tribunal?”
“No.” He snorts. “Your marriage.”
“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me today.” I stand before the Councilors, waiting for any indication that they will reconsider their position. This is the last attempt I will make to go through the proper channels. If they deny my request again, I will walk into the prison and kill Enzo there, consequences be damned.
“We’ve watched the footage you sent over,” Guillory responds. “But I must say this is quite unfortunate timing. Why the urgency, Scarcello? Enzo is already locked up. Couldn’t this wait until after the holiday?”
I hand the guard the transcripts of Enzo’s voicemails. “This is why.”
The guard delivers them to the dais, and the room falls into silence as the Councilors read through them.
“He’s threatening your family.” Guillory peers at me over the rim of his glasses. “The man is clearly unhinged, but what can he do locked away in prison?”
My jaw works as I force myself to keep a level head. “Does it matter if he’s locked away? His access to the outside might be limited, but he has proven himself resourceful in the past. I’m imploring you to consider your response if it was your own family. Would you determine his threats to be harmless then?”
Guillory narrows his gaze at me. “Leave my family out of this. Your point has been made.”
I cut my gaze to Angelo briefly, recalling the rest of our conversation in the car. He encourages me with a nod, and I continue, choosing the words from my heart rather than my head.
“I stand before you today as a Sovereign Son who wishes to avenge the deaths of Ricardo, Nicolette, Elizabeth, and anyone else’s life Enzo’s time on this earth has cut short. But I’m also standing before you as a man who…” My throat works as I stumble over the words. “A man who watched that footage with the knowledge that Enzo perpetrated those same acts against my wife. Not only did he violate her body, but he ripped an innocent child from her arms, depriving him of a mother for years. Enzo tortured my wife, slashed her throat, and tossed her into a river like garbage. I have no choice but to ask when will enough be enough? At what point will this Tribunal deem him unfit to live? Once his body count reaches double digits? The crimes he has committed are heinous, and he is undeserving of another second of your leniency. The only equitable punishment is a slaughter as vicious as he has doled out himself.”
The three Councilors stare down at me, stone-faced, and I’m not certain whether I’ve managed to sway them. They turn to each other, speaking quietly amongst themselves before returning their focus to me.
“Merry Christmas, Scarcello. You’ve got your wish. At this time, the court finds the evidence you’ve brought forth sufficient to move forward with a penalty of death. Now, end him and be done with it.”