He turns to me and raises his hand, but Carmine stops him. He’s up in a flash and has Alex’s wrist in his fist.
“If you touch her one more time, I’ll rip your goddamn arm off.”
Alex shoves away like a pouty child. “Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking touch me.”
He reaches for his gun, but it’s gone.
“Looking for this?” Carmine holds it up, and Alex’s face goes white.
Oh my God. We’re going to live through this.
We’re going to live through this.
Carmine throws the gun across the room and turns to me.
“Don’t—” I begin, but it’s too late. Alex hits Carmine over the head with the tray that was on the coffee table. Carmine turns and backhands Alex, but then, to both of our surprise, Alex retaliates.
Carmine takes as many hits as he dishes out. I rush across the room and retrieve the gun, my hands still tied with the twine Alex brought with him. Still, I’m able to point it down at my brother, who’s now bleeding from the nose.
“Freeze.”
Suddenly, Rafe and Shane run into the room, their weapons drawn, and Alex sags against the hardwood in defeat.
“Fuck,” he says and then coughs and looks at me. “I will kill you. It may not be today, but it’s going to happen. My men should have done it in France, but they were too weak. I knew I should have done it myself. And I will. Every minute of your life, you’d better sleep with one eye open and watch your back.”
I look at Carmine. “Did you record everything he said earlier?”
He grabs his phone and nods. “It’s on here. But I learned everything from Shane. That’s where I was this morning.”
I look over at Shane as Alex starts to moan and whine. “Do you have all of the evidence my father will need to prove that my brother was behind everything?”
“I do,” Shane says with a solemn nod.
With the gun still in my hand, I look down at my brother, and I squeeze the trigger, killing him instantly.
“Call the cleanup team.” I drop the gun and let Carmine fold me into his arms. I ache all over from the beating Alex gave me, and my heart hurts, too.
“Shh.” Carmine rocks me back and forth. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“He was an ass. A complete ass. But he was also my brother. And there was a time that I loved him.”
“I know.” He kisses the top of my head. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“We’ve got this,” Shane says, but before we can leave the room, he kisses my cheek. “You did the right thing.”
“Sometimes, the right thing really sucks.”
“I know.”
“Don’t worry about this,” Rafe says kindly.
“I have to call my father. There’s different protocol here.”
“I know,” Rafe says. “Don’t worry.”
Carmine leads me to the bathroom off the master, closes the door, and I fall into his arms, sobbing like I never have before.
“I’m a monster.” I pull back, just out of his grasp. “Jesus, Carmine, I’m a monster. I killed my brother.”
Without a word, he takes my shoulders and turns me to look into the mirror, pressed close behind me.
“Look at yourself.”
My eyes are swollen and blackened. My lips are puffy and split. I have a cut on my shoulder from the kitchen knife.
“He knocked on the door about thirty minutes after you left,” I begin and swallow hard. “Of course, I let him in. Turned my back. And he started in on me. He had a baseball bat. I couldn’t react. Couldn’t defend myself.”
“He was a coward.”
“He told me that he was behind all of the killings. Said that he was going to kill me, then Papa. That he’d be the boss. Said he’d turn our family into a drug lord empire—exactly what Papa doesn’t want.”
“And he was going to continue hunting you, would try to end your life, Nadia,” he reminds me. “That wasn’t an empty threat. If I hadn’t arrived when I did, you’d probably be dead now. Can you look us both in the eyes and say that what you did was wrong?”
“No.” I shake my head slowly. “I don’t think it was wrong. Because he would have killed you, too, and I couldn’t live—”
I turn back into his arms. “I couldn’t live with myself if he hurt you, Carmine. I love you so much, I can’t bear the thought. Oh my God, what would I do without you?”
He tips my chin up with his finger. “Do you mind saying that again?”
“What would I do without you?” I sniff, more tears falling at the thought of Carmine being gone.
“Not that part, baby.”
“I love you, Carmine. I don’t know how it happened or when. We went from being enemies to this. But I do. I love you so much it hurts. I really thought you’d come into this house and find me dead. That alone almost broke me. But then when I thought that he might kill you, as well, I just… You are the best part of my life.”
“I think that’s my line.” His lips touch the side of mine, ever so gently so he doesn’t hurt me. “I love you, too. With all of my heart and soul. You are meant to be with me. I feel that in my heart.”
“I do, too.” I snuggle into him for just a moment. “We’d better get me cleaned up so I can face my father. I don’t know what he’ll do.”
“He’ll love you,” he says simply. “And he’ll grieve.”
“Yeah.” I nod as Carmine reaches for a washrag. “We’ll both do that.”
Six of us sit in my father’s living room in Atlanta. Carmine and his brothers flew me here this afternoon, and their father, Carlo, met us.
We didn’t meet at an office.
We came to Igor Tarenkov’s home.
“Your mother is lying down after taking a sedative,” Papa says as he reaches for me. His eyes are shadowed and sad, but he touches me with tenderness. “How do you feel, little one?”
“A bit sore. It’s not as bad as it was in Seattle when I got—” I stop talking at my father’s furious look and swallow hard. “Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you about that.”
“I suggest you tell me now.”
I look over at Carmine, who’s sitting next to his father. All four men are imposing. Carmine nods. “It’s time, sweetheart.”
So, I take a deep breath and tell them all about getting attacked in Seattle, and how Carmine and his people helped me get well.
“But that wasn’t the first time.”
I tell him everything, going back to when I was jumped in Atlanta, and my hair was cut.
“It seems your brother has been terrorizing you for a long time,” Papa says quietly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I never saw it. I should have known.”
“He was good at covering his tracks,” I remind him. “Papa, I understand if you don’t want to see me again. If this is goodbye—”
“What kind of nonsense is this?”
“I killed your son.” I bury my face in my hands and weep. “I murdered my brother in cold blood, and I would do it again. What kind of daughter does that make me? What kind of boss would I make?”