Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
He spots me and opens his mouth. He’s going to make a damn fine threat, I’m sure. He’s going to say a lot of intimidating things that would work on most people. Most people haven’t seen pools of blood, haven’t caused them.
Too bad for him that I’m faster. I lunge forward at the same time he tries to, his eyes widening, his mouth open but in surprise. The bullet cuts through his open mouth. The girl screams as I pull her away from him, and it’s a good thing I do. The rat’s last act in his miserable life is to try to cut the child.
With a raised voice, I spin. Some big fucker holding a shotgun steps into view.
The girl turns at the worst possible time. She sees the whole thing, but there’s no way I can shield her from this. It’s the cold fact of the world, the heartless goddamn agony of it. Sometimes, it makes me sick.
I shoot him four times in his big, thick body, and then I take the girl and hold her, putting her face against my chest so she doesn’t have to see.
Taking out my cell, I call Elio.
“Where the fuck are you?” he yells. “We just got a call that they’ve burned—”
“That was a decoy,” I say wearily. “He tried to spring a trap on Bella. I’m standing over his corpse.”
“Shit.”
“I need a crew down here right now. I’ve fired five bullets. Dropped two caskets.”
“Okay, shit. Yeah, bro. Give me your location, and get out of there.”
I pick the girl up and jog across the street toward the hotel.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
ELIO
We decide to go ahead with the show. It’s a demonstration of the DeLuca Family’s power. It’s another reason that would make our parents so proud. As I wait for the show to begin, half listening to Sofia and Emily, Bella’s friend, chattering next to me, I think of the girl my brother saved.
She’s with her parents now. Orlando was going to …
Fortunately, my brother did the right thing. He always does.
I look at Emily, her bright pink hair tied up, an artistic flourish to every movement. It’s the way she moves and the little looks she gives me.
I turn to Miss Rossa next to me. “Are you excited for the show?”
“Yes, but didn’t poor Sofia want to perform?”
I smirk, leaning in. “Didn’t Matteo ask for your blessing?”
Miss Rossa’s eyes snap open. “Now?”
The lights flash on, revealing Bella sitting inside a glass cage. She’s got her violin perched, ready to play. I know she was pissed at Matt for leaving her behind, but those two seem to make up fast.
Now, she plays … something. Music has always been Sofia and Matt’s thing. I find it easier to watch the colors and the light and let the soft sounds become something vivid and alive in my mind, a new piece of art. Turning, I look at Emily again. I wonder what her natural hair color is.
Finally, Bella stands and opens a small, seamless door in the cage, stepping out and taking a bow. “We don’t need this nonsense,” she says, stepping aside and aiming her violin’s bow at the glass.
It shatters right on cue, and the whole crowd erupts into applause.
Then everybody whispers when the light suddenly goes out. I grin, knowing I’ll never forget this moment. Matt tried to fight it, tried to pretend, but he was never going to be able to resist Bella. I knew it the moment I saw her effect on him.
When the light flashes, Matteo DeLuca is on one knee, Bella’s hand in his. Tears glistening in Bella’s eyes. My brother isn’t mic’d up. He’s not doing this to make a show. His mouth moves, but he speaks low, urgent, just for her. I can’t hear it, but I know the essence. I know the spirit. I can see the love.
“Yes!” she cries when he produces a red ruby ring that glistens in the light. “Yes, yes, yes!”
Miss Rossi is the first one to leap to her feet. Everybody soon follows, people whooping and cheering and clapping.
I look over at Emily but then quickly glance away. She’s staring right at me.
Instead, I savor my brother’s happiness.
EPILOGUE
BELLA
One Month Later
Together, my man and I play “Pavane” by Gabriel Fauré. It’s a beautiful piece to mix guitar and violin. As I move my bow over the Stradivarius, I still can’t believe it’s mine. I can’t believe this life is ours.
We’re sitting on the back porch as the sun sets, kissing the plants, our song notes rising in the air.
Matt looks so gentle as he plucks his way with determination, meeting my eye with a smirk. His urgent words return to me as I watch him look lovingly down at his instrument.
“Nothing will ever come between us. Nothing will ever stop me from loving you. You’re mine—and I’m yours—forever. Bella Rossi, will you marry me?”