He limply grasped my wrist trying to fight me off. “You chose her over your own flesh and blood.”
“Roman!” my father’s voice boomed behind me.
I yanked his head up again. “You tried to kill her.” This time, I wanted vengeance not vindication. He wanted to rule the business on Dad’s terms. I wanted to rule the world on my terms with my girl by my side. He wanted to shed blood. I wanted to annihilate him. His nose bled profusely, I was about to drive his face into the floor. It wouldn’t take much, and the way I felt now it would only take another fatal blow to the head.
“Roman!” my father barked out in desperation trying to pry my hands off his prodigal son. “Stop. He’s your brother!” His words somehow penetrated my haze of rage, and I realized Antoni wasn’t struggling beneath me anymore. “He’s your brother,” Papá repeated with more emotion than I’d ever heard before. “Don’t let your anger ruin your life. You have a bright future ahead of you. You have everything, son, and you made it on your own. Don’t do this.”
“Fuck!” I cursed, releasing him and fell aside while Antoni rolled over attempting to lift his head. Memories of my family passed before my eyes, trying to conjure up any happy times of Antoni and I. Not really remembering any standout, pivotal moments where we’d ever bonded like a normal family would. Not understanding why he and I had turned out so differently. Or did we? Or was I just as bad as he? I hated my father, and I’d had no qualms about beating the life out of my brother.
“I’m sorry, son. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” My always-put-together father was flushed and looked like he was about to cry. Defeated was how he acted. He’d never shown emotion around us.
“He tried to kill her.” I ran my hands through my hair trying to keep from bludgeoning Antoni some more. “He wanted her dead.” Wrong place, wrong time, he’d said, and I knew Theodora’s suspicions had merit. “You knew. You played a part in this. You wanted to get rid of Rhonda, and little brother helped you. I wouldn’t have believed you’d go that far. But you did, didn’t you?”
“No. What are you talking about?”
“You toyed with her. Made her fall in love with you, but when you found out she was pregnant, then she was a burden. A problem you didn’t want to handle. Instead, you thought you could wipe her off the planet. Because employees were always replaceable, right? That was your mentality.”
“No. I would never—”
“You wanted this. You brainwashed him into helping you. Groomed him to be the perfect boy. Wow. Take a bow. Aren’t you proud of him?”
“I didn’t. I just wanted my sons to be successful.”
“And he almost was, wasn’t he? However, he still needed a little more practice mastering the art of murder. Didn’t he? You planned this out.”
“No. No.” He clenched my shoulder tighter, and I knocked his arm away.
“Stop lying. You didn’t want to deal with that problem. You convinced Antoni to help you do your dirty work.”
“No.” He shook his head and strands of salt and pepper hair flapped over his forehead. “That’s not true.”
“You couldn’t push this little issue under the carpet. Could you? Just admit you fucking did it,” I challenged fighting the disgust threatening to pour out like a waterfall. “Instead of owning up to your responsibility, you thought you were invincible and could get rid of your mistake.”
“I loved her!” The veins in Pop’s neck strummed as he watched me with a sick helplessness. “I loved her,” he whispered in anguish.
“What in the ever loving hell is going on?” I glanced up and saw Richard standing at the door with his ruddy face wound in puzzlement.
Theodora
Did you ever feel that which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger? It was a cliché term, words you told yourself when you were having a shitty day, but that’s how I felt. Not only did I experience it, but I’d definitely been plucked away from reality and dropped into a surreal life with characters who couldn’t be defined in black and white. The players were shrouded in shades of gray. Cliché too, but nevertheless true as well.
Take, for instance, Taylor, who I found out was the one who took the pictures of Roman and me that night. Initially, she seemed like she may have been in cahoots with Antoni, but he had held information over her head. How the hell would anyone have known Antoni would’ve been involved? Who would’ve known he was absolutely insane?
Taylor wasn’t completely innocent. However, she led me out to Roman’s old bedroom grabbed a towel from his bathroom pressing it to my chest and ran to get help. The front of my dress was soaked in blood, and I tried not to dwell on it or I might faint. It was difficult not to mix and match the other fateful night with tonight’s newfound nightmare.
I knew the gash was wide, but not fatal. Steady your breathing, Theodora. You’re fine. You’ll be okay. Not long after, Taylor returned with a brawny man in a dark suit, in the same uniform as the men who’d stopped me when I drove up to the estate earlier. He had a black leather messenger bag.
I glanced at her with worry, and she smiled tentatively. “He’s one of my father’s men. He’ll fix you up.”
I was too concerned about the burning pain on my skin to analyze motives. The distinguished man with sandy-colored hair and solemn gray eyes said in a calm but authoritative voice, “Let me see what we’re dealing with.” He looked down at my wound. “Yep. It’s going to need a stitch or ten, maybe twenty.” He seemed unfazed while I was about to lose my composure. Twenty stitches?
“Here, down this.” Taylor thrust a bottle of Dom Perignon in my hand. “It’ll take the edge off.”
I held the bottle between us for a few ticks, and I finally suspended belief shrugging (because why not?) and took a long gulp of the chilled champagne.
I hissed when I felt the antiseptic sear my wound but willed myself not to cry. In this moment of pain, I wished Roman was here. Was he okay? I could see the fear mirrored in his face as he watched me, the agony in his eyes, the conflict he was fighting. But he jumped in. He helped me break free. He took on his brother. Roman was a driving force and he could take care of himself. Couldn’t he?
The piercing of my skin nearly set me off, but I gripped the marble counter biting my inner cheek to keep from screaming in agony. Minutes seemed like hours, and I’m certain I’d lanced my lower lip as my teeth dug in ruthlessly.
Finally, fucking finally, jack-of-all trades, enforcer/surgeon-on-the-fly tied off the stitch and secured some gauze over it. “There.” He meticulously cleaned his tools and said, “Make sure you change the bandage and keep it clean. However, don’t let the wound get wet. Cover it up when you shower. Keep it dry.”
I nodded and chugged another drink keeping a brave front, trying to numb the throbbing pain in my chest that still hurt like a bitch. I fought the urge to sag against the counter, but I told myself to stay strong. Then my thoughts jumped to Roman and it was as if I got my second wind and had never been injured. “I have to go to him.” I pushed past security guy and Taylor, fearing the worst. Needing to know he was still alive. He had murder in his eyes when he rushed Antoni. He tried to save me. Regardless of his shady motives that led up to this day, he’d warned me about being a pawn in this game, and he’d been true to his word trying to protect me.