“My father died in an explosion,” I said abruptly. “Things were more tense here back then. There were some gang-related issues that spilled over onto the streets, and my father got caught in the crossfire.”
Benoit moved to face me, listening with his brandy in one hand and his own lit cigar in the other.
“The man who broke it up was terrifying. My friends and I had called him the scariest man on the island, because healways traveled with a pack of men and all of them carried more weapons than an army.” I paused to take a drink, my throat feeling dry. “But that day he wasn’t any of those things. He was kind and compassionate to a kid who’d just lost his father.”
“Giorgos?” Benoit said, and I nodded.
“I didn’t have any family, and he took me in. Raised me. Taught me ruthless survival over the kindness he’d first shown me.” I let out a humorless laugh. “Taught me how to shoot before I learned how to shave. He burned all the soft parts of me and honed me into the perfect weapon. So perfect he never saw me coming.”
Silence fell between us as my confession lingered in the air with the smoke of our cigars. Benoit hadn’t asked, but I knew what was on his mind. Were the rumors true? Had I taken out my former boss? The man who took me in and raised me?
The answer to all of those questions was as simple as it was complicated: yes.
“Ask me.” My words were soft, but I knew Benoit had heard them. It was the expression on his face, the struggle between wanting the truth and wanting to stay blissfully unaware.
“So you did kill him? Giorgos?”
I could’ve lied. Could’ve reshaped the truth. But for the first time in my life, I wanted someone to know me.Allof me. Even the ugly parts.
“Yes,” I said, that one word heavier than any I’d ever spoken. “His was the first life I took. He raised me, but he didn’t protect me. No one did. He fed me, trained me, and when I became too popular within his organization, became theleaderhe was molding me into, he became threatened and plotted to take me out.”
Benoit’s eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything, and I continued.
“Omar had heard that the meeting Giorgos had sent me to attend was a trap. He was planning to confront me, find out my true motives with his crew, demand to know why I was trying to overthrow him?—”
“But you weren’t?”
“No, I wasn’t.” I shook my head and put my drink aside. “I never wanted this life. Never wanted to be a monster. He was becoming more and more brutal in his dealings, and those he was partnering with weren’t the kinds of people I wanted to associate with. I’d trained to kill, but I’d avoided it until that night.”
Benoit put his glass and cigar down, then moved to his knees in front of me.
“What happened?” he asked, laying a hand over mine.
“I arrived at the meeting spot early. An old, run-down warehouse on the coast. Used to be a fish-packing plant. And I waited. I waited for what felt like hours. I almost talked myself out of it. I tried. But there was no other way. It was him or me. If I was going to survive the night and the days that followed, I knew what I had to do. What his crew would expect of a coup. And like I said, no one was going to protect me, so that night I protected myself. I became the monster no one could touch. The onehehad created.”
Benoit swallowed, and while I would spare him the most heinous details, he needed to know something.
“I don’t regret it.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“But you’re wondering.” I turned my hand over and laced my fingers with his. “If I hadn’t taken him out, he only would’ve gotten worse. His desire for power knew no bounds, no restrictions. He was going to kill me, and he almost did?—”
Benoit brought his other hand up and gently touched the scar by my cheek. I closed my eyes, remembering the momentGiorgos’s knife had cut through my skin. The burn, the pain—it had been the final push I needed to end it all.
“But I was the bigger monster that night.”
The weight of my truth fell from my shoulders like a sack of bricks. I’d cut open my most vicious wound, and it was as freeing as it was terrifying to know I’d just laid my soul bare.
“You’re not a monster.” Benoit’s voice was soft, gentle, as he stroked his thumb over the jagged mark of my predecessor. “You’re a survivor. You witnessed and lived through something no child should ever live through, and somehow came out the other side stronger for it. You took his empire and made it your own. You took it out of the hands of the truly depraved and only agreed to work with those of your choosing. You’re brave, strong, and at times truly terrifying.”
I opened my eyes and stared into earnest hazel ones full of pity, compassion, and awe.
“But I see you, Dimitri Stavros. I see the man under all of those things, and I—” Benoit swallowed again and squeezed my hand. “I’m not sure how I’m going to say goodbye to him.”
I took his hand and tugged him into my arms, capturing his mouth in a kiss that was as painful as it was tender. The kiss of an inevitable ending. One I wasn’t sure I knew how I would survive.
The loudbangof fireworks rent the air, surprising the both of us, and Benoit pulled back to look up at the sky. His eyes shimmered from the sparkles and emotions filling the both of us, and I pulled him back into my arms where he belonged.
