He nods, jaw flexing. “Whatever you need.”
“Yeah, right, because it’s all aboutmyneeds, right?”
I slam the door in his face.
The running water helps mask some of my sobbing. I don’t want him to hear how upset I am right now. I’m not even mourning for Tommy—honestly, screw that guy—but I feel so unstable and shaken. I haven’t been like this for a very, very long time. I’ve struggled to make myself as hard as possible.
But now it’s like all the years of toughness are getting stripped away, and I don’t know what I’ll be when it’s all gone.
All I know is I won’t stick around to find out.
Chapter 17
Fiorella
“Seriously? Tommy’s dead?” Elisa sounds distraught, but of course she does. “Does anyone else know?”
“Probably Dad and Uncle Corrado. I don’t know who else.”
“How did you find out?”
“Luca told me last night.” I hesitate, staring at myself bleakly in the mirror. Bags hang under my eyes. I barely slept. “He’s the one who did it.”
Elisa’s quiet for a moment. “That’s pretty fucked up.”
“I know.”
“How did it happen?”
I tell her what I know, which isn’t much. “He says he was defending himself. But I don’t know if I believe him.”
“I honestly can’t believe this. Tommy’s dead.” She sniffles like she’s fighting tears. “I didn’t even like him.”
“He was a total asshole.”
“Seriously. I used to fantasize about drowning him.”
“Really? You did?” My eyebrows raise and I can’t help but smile. “You wanted tohurtsomeone? I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“He was such a dick to me. I’m not that much of a pushover, you know.”
“I know that.” I lean against the bathroom counter and glance toward the bed. Luca’s side is empty. It’s been empty since before sunrise. He woke without saying anything, dressed, and disappeared. He hasn’t been back since, and I don’t know where he’s gone.
Probably out to kill more of my family.
“Is there going to be a funeral? Are you going to go? I guess that’s a stupid question. I mean, your husband killed him. Does this mean Uncle Corrado is going to war or something?”
I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. I open my mouth to answer, but a sudden, sick feeling comes over me. I get all clammy and nauseous as sweat rolls down my back.
My family’s falling apart. I can’t even go to my own cousin’s funeral because my husband murdered him. Trucks filled with drugs are burning in the street, and my father’s dying. Raf’s going to be Don. I’m married to a stranger. I don’t even know?—
“I have to go,” I croak and toss the phone aside.
I run to the toilet and barely make it in time to get sick.
Ugly bile burns my throat and my stomach contracts hard enough to hurt my ribs. I retch for way too long, but when it’s finally done, I collapse back against the wall, breathing hardand drenched in more sweat. The nausea’s gone as fast as it appeared, but I don’t understand what just happened.
Panic, probably. Fear over the thought of my family crumbling to pieces. I married Luca and sacrificed myself so that the Serrano Famiglia might survive, and now it seems like that wasn’t enough.
