Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“What are you going to do to me?” I ask in a small voice.
“I don’t know,” he admits with a sigh. “I’ve spent the last few days thinking about it.”
I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I realize that despite the month we spent together, there’s a lot I don’t know about Frankie Corello.
“Have you ever killed anyone?” I whisper.
He laughs, not giving me an answer. He looks away again, as if my words have hurt him. I don’t think he’s the kind of guy who would hurt me physically, but I can’t be sure. And does it really matter if he threatens me himself or has someone else do it?
“Your punishment for the moment will be not knowing when or where I’m going to take my revenge,” he says, stepping close so that I can feel the hatred in his words. “I loved you,” he says roughly. “I was honest about that.”
“I know,” I reply sadly.
He shakes his head, looking down at me from the moral high ground. “Give me back my father’s ledger.”
I open my mouth to deny the fact that I have it, but I can see there’s no point. I pull it out of my pocket and hand it over. “I haven’t managed to decode any of the entries,” I tell him. I’m not sure why it’s important to me to let him know that I don’t have proof. Maybe I’m suffering from some kind of Stockholm Syndrome, and I’ve fallen in love with the wrong person.
I tell myself that’s absurd. I’m not in love with Frankie. Yet, in that moment, I would do anything to erase the harm I’ve caused.
“I don’t know if that’s the truth or not,” he says, nailing one final insult into my self-made coffin.
He opens the door, putting his back to me for the last time. I watch him go to the elevator and push the button. There’s nothing I can do to stop him, and nothing I can say that will make a bit of difference.
Now, on top of the grief I experienced in losing my brother, I have another heavy burden to bear. I’ve hurt Frankie worse than I could have imagined. It might take him a long time to recover to the point where he can express love again, to trust again, and it’s all my fault.
I press my eyes shut, hoping to stop the tears from falling. When I open them again, he’s gone. I try to pick up the pieces of my desperate plan, but find that I have no strength anymore. I sit down on one of the chairs in the conference room and put my head in my hands. I didn’t think there was anything worse than being murdered and dumped in a shallow grave, but this feeling might be in the running. It seems like the whole world is shattering around me, and I have no one to blame for it but myself.
CHAPTER 29
FRANKIE
Iwalk out of the conference room with my head held high. All the way to the elevator, I’m feeling pretty good about myself. It gives me a sense of power to know that Sofia’s afraid. But as soon as the elevator doors close and I’m alone with my thoughts, I begin to reconsider.
Real men don’t make the women in their lives feel afraid. If I was actually in love with her, I would have been more focused on solutions and less on throwing my weight around. I know that because I come from a mafia family, I can intimidate people. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let anything bad happen to her.
She hurt me. And that was really all I could focus on. But now, in the cold light of day, I wish I had picked a better course. I don’t know what I’m going to do from here. Simply knowing that she’ll be watching over her shoulder seemed to address my concerns, at first.
I know that what I’ve done to her is worse than anything my father could dream up. Breaking kneecaps or smashing windows only serves to bring pain and destruction. Whereas I unleashed hell on Sofia that only she can truly comprehend.
I wonder if she’ll be able to sleep at night. Will she pick up and go somewhere else to escape from me? Will she continue her project, knowing that it could result in her death? I’m not sure. Half of me hopes that she’s able to pick herself up and brush herself off. She deserves something better, and I don’t want to stand in her way.
Our relationship is over, and I’ve burned that bridge irrevocably, if there ever was a chance of reconciliation. By the time the elevator reaches the ground floor, all my excitement has vanished. I feel horrible.
I walk out the front door to my car and sit in the driver’s seat. Staring out my windshield at Sofia’s office building, I try to sort through the wreckage of my feelings. I need a fresh start. I’m tired of shadowing my father’s operatives. I need something that will wash my soul clean.