Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Enzo stood far enough from us that he couldn’t hear, but I knew I was being foolish, admitting this to another living soul.
“I never meant to kill him,” I whispered.
Tate’s hands circled my upper arms, steadying me. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
I hiccupped. “I was always so careful about putting enough space between us when I followed him, but this time, I got too close.” I dropped my gaze to my feet. “Every Friday, when he got off work, he went to the Forbidden Fruit Club. I’d follow him and wait outside. He’d sit on the balcony with his mates, chain-smoking and drinking champagne. I didn’t know why I did it to myself, but I got addicted to watching him live his life so carelessly after killing half my family. I was punishing myself. That night was different because he drove to the club in his Ferrari.”
My lower lip trembled.
“I watched from across the street as he polished off bottle after bottle of champagne and snorted cocaine. I knew he’d get behind the wheel and kill someone else, and it made me furious. So I confronted him.”
I was shaking so badly, Tate had to physically keep me upright. I’d never uttered this out loud to anyone, and speaking the truth, relaying it, made me face what happened for the first time. Tate motioned for Thierry to get out of the driver’s seat and tucked me into the back seat of the car, closing the door so it was just the two of us.
“Continue,” he instructed.
“You’re going to hate me.”
But wasn’t that what I wanted? A way out of this marriage before my mother’s death?
“I could never hate you,” he muttered grimly.
Worrying my lip, I soldiered through. “I followed him to his car. I just wanted to stop him from driving. It was dark and isolated in the parking lot. He confronted me and said he knew I’d been following him. I told him who I was—that it was my family he struck and killed.”
Tate’s hands were pressed firmly on my shoulders, anchoring me to the leather seat.
“He laughed in my face, Tate. He laughed.” I gulped. “He told me I needed to move on. That shit happens. He said he’d been cleared, I wasn’t supposed to be harassing him, and that he could call the police and get me deported.”
“Fuck.” Tate’s lips barely moved.
“He had no remorse and laughed in my face, so I picked up a loose brick from the ground and hurled it his way. I honestly underestimated my swing.” I sighed. “The brick smashed his head in. I remember seeing part of his skull caving in. He collapsed, and I knew immediately he didn’t survive that injury. I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. When I turned around, Daniel was there.”
“He used to frequent the Forbidden Fruit’s gambling tables,” Tate grumbled.
“Daniel gathered me in his arms and put me back together.” My voice cracked. “He helped me calm down. I told him what happened, why I did it. Told him I didn’t mean to. Then we got into an argument.”
“He wanted to take the fall for you,” Tate guessed, his voice dull.
“Yeah, because I had a motive to kill, not injure. And I wanted to call the cops, to turn myself in.” I licked my lips. “Daniel wanted me to run and pretend it never happened. Sirens blared in the distance. The cops were getting closer. He told me to admit nothing. Said it would jeopardize my visa and my school. That Gorga wasn’t worth my future. He wouldn’t have to serve time, and if he did, it would be minimal.”
I fell silent, staring at my fingers.
“Your father didn’t kill Gorga, Tate. I did.”
I should have been the one who went to prison. If not for me, Tate would still have his adoptive father. I ruined everything for him.
Tate was quiet, digesting my confession, before he said, “In the trial, Daniel said Gorga tried to attack you. That your top was torn. That was why he threw that brick.”
“That never happened,” I admitted. “Moments before the police arrived, Daniel ripped my top so the story would track in case I was found.”
“And you went along with his plan?”
I jerked my head guiltily. “I did, yes. He seemed sure he’d get out of it fairly quickly. Gorga was obviously intoxicated. He said he’d plead self-defense. He told me not to check on him, not to contact him, to protect both of us.”
And I didn’t, staying true to my word.
“W-what happened after, Tate?”
“He was taken to Rikers but got out on bail the following night.” Tate stroked his jawline. “The self-defense case was strong. Gorga had a violent past, with several aggravated assault charges, and the autopsy showed insane amounts of alcohol and cocaine in his system. Dad, by contrast, had no past records, was a legitimate businessman, and adopted a son. He was serving a measly amount of time. I was supposed to see him a few weeks before he was murdered.”