Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I’m so sorry.”
And then I’m sobbing and can’t stop. For all the mothers who do their best to stand up to evil men but die anyway. For their children who will grow up without their love.
For my own mother and my childhood self.
You need to grow up, my father said.
He’s right.
Kaiser picks me up and carries me back to our bedroom. He handles me like a child, washing my face and putting me to bed, but I don’t fall asleep.
It’s midnight when I sit up. Kaiser is sleeping deeply when I slip out of bed. He frowns but doesn’t stir.
I head back down to my greenhouse. To the small dark room beside it, where I keep the most potent poisons. Some I use to kill weeds. Some I use to kill pests.
Some I’ve used to kill men, but no one knows about that.
What I have with Kaiser is new. Fragile. A fresh green sprout breaking from the soil. So easy to rip out. So easy to kill.
He’s told me we can have a life together.
But I refuse to be a pawn in this game.
They can make me marry him, but they can’t make me be anything but a wife in name only.
Whatever we have between us cannot grow, so it’s best to pull it out by the roots while it’s small. Before it’s taken hold.
I would mourn what we could’ve had, but the time for tears is over.
I need to grow up.
I open one jar filled with a thick white liquid. It’s a balm made of different compounds distilled from tansy, larkspur, and hellebore and causes blistering, pain, and nausea. I spread it over my skin.
Pain bursts through me, searing every nerve. My mouth opens in a scream.
I can’t cry out; it’ll wake Kaiser. I shake with the force of holding the sound in.
It feels like dying. It feels like everything I am is burning away.
And it feels like absolution.
I open another jar and another. I dig out all the poisons and smear them on my skin. I open the vials and gulp the tinctures down.
It hurts, but it’s necessary.
I know the mistake I made with the Vesuvios. I thought I wasn’t strong enough to take them on. I thought I needed to wait, to hone my abilities at Mafia University and build resources.
But I’m Belladonna Bosco. Poison runs in my veins.
I should’ve made sure I killed them all. Dominus, the don, and all of his sons, his capos, not just Alfredo. Instead, I waited, and Livia and her children paid the price. Her death, and possibly theirs, is on my head.
Everyone underestimates me. Fraternitas. My father. Even Kaiser. But not after this.
I will make the Vesuvios pay. It’ll mean the end of the alliance, but everyone will know what I’ve done. Kaiser will hate me forever, but I deserve that.
Those are the consequences of my actions, and I accept them.
But I refuse to be weak. I’ll prove to everyone once and for all who I am: a supervillain.
I fight through the pain raging through my body, gripping the side of the work table until I can stand without shaking. I continue to coat myself in the poisons.
It’s time for the Endgame.
Kaiser
* * *
Bella’s not beside me when I wake up in the morning. It’s not unusual, but something feels off. The house is too quiet, and the empty space next to me feels wrong. I trust my instincts.
I call her name, and when she doesn’t answer, I head down to the greenhouse.
I’m still cursing myself for taking her to her father. I should’ve known when he asked to see her that he was going to be an asshole and upset her again. When I listened to the conversation replay, I got why she’s so upset. She pleaded with him for an explanation, a sign that he cared about her, and instead of listening and reassuring her, he just turned cold.
I’m tempted to order her never to see him again. She’d hate me for it, but it might be for the best.
Except, I don’t want to give her orders anymore. I don’t want to force her to do anything anymore. I don’t want to lock her in a cage.
But I never want to see that lost look on her face again. In the car, she was a shadow of herself. That’s why, as soon as she went to the greenhouse, I got on the phone with St. James to negotiate the release of Livia Vesuvio’s remains. He argued with me, saying it wasn’t smart to get involved in the Vesuvio’s business like this. He’s spent weeks trying to get them to agree to a truce.
Claiming Livia’s ashes will piss them off, but it was the right thing to do. St. James didn’t like it, but he has a soft spot for this sort of thing, and in the end, he caved and made it happen.