A Vow of Love and Vengeance

I did, though. I wasn’t a killer, or at least I never used to be. But I’d killed my father for abandoning Chiara and me. If he deserved my wrath, then the man who actually had hurt her certainly did.

I had become the weapon they forged with their indifference and tempered in their cruelty, and I would be the one to avenge Chiara.

I held Matteo’s pained gaze as I lifted the gun, and he looked relieved. I was delivering him mercy he didn’t deserve, but deliver it I would. I pulled the trigger. The gun exploded in my hand, the bullet ripping through his skull and snapping back his head. Silence echoed through the room, permeated only by the trickle of blood hitting concrete.

I expected to feel something, even if it was only that familiar flicker of self-loathing that had risen after I had killed my father, but I felt only relief. His death didn’t balance my sister’s. It didn’t bring her back, but I had done what I could to deliver justice. And Gio had ensured Matteo received a punishment I was incapable of.

It was a fitting end for Matteo Romano.

I was sort of numb for the rest of the day. Like I didn’t quite know what to do with myself now. The dark cloud that had hung over my head for so long was starting to dissipate—not entirely because Sergio was still out there, and everything in Chicago was far from stable—but those first rays of sunlight were creeping over me. Only, I realized I didn’t know how to live in the sun anymore. When this was all said and done, I wasn’t sure who I would even be.

Tommy was down in the gym doing rehab with his new physio. Ren was on some job with Jackson—torturing Matteo seemed to have bonded him to the Famiglia somewhat.

So, I found myself wandering through the house until I drifted to Gio’s office, subconsciously seeking him out. I knocked and walked in, halting when I saw Luca standing in front of the desk with his back to me.

Gio had a frown on his face, but it cleared when he spotted me. “Emilia.” He pushed to his feet and cut across the room to me.

I stumbled back. Not from him but Luca. I couldn’t deal with him right now. “I’ll come back.”

Gio’s hand clamped around the back of my neck, and he pulled me close, whispering in my ear. “You will never be the one to leave, piccola.” His lips brushed my cheek. “But you might want to hear what he has to say.” Gio stepped aside, leaving me to face Luca.

I braced myself for his anger, for the lashing hatred that had struck so deep the last time we’d spoken. Instead, his chin dropped to his chest, gaze fixed on the floor.

“Luca has reconsidered our offer,” Gio said, threading his fingers through mine.

Suspicion prickled up my spine like insects crawling over my skin. “Why? You’ve made it pretty clear where your loyalties are, Luca.”

The level of venom I felt toward my brother shocked me, but the last time we had spoken, he had threatened to kill me. He’d made it very clear where he stood, and it was never with me.

Only Gio knew just how deeply my brother’s words had affected me. I hadn’t even told Ren, lest he tried to kill Luca.

Luca had caught me unaware and driven a knife straight into my weak spot—my guilt over killing our father. But if the last few days with Matteo had shown me anything, it was just how justified I’d been. That man was a monster of the worst kind, and they all had left Chiara to him. Were willing to leave me, too. Fuck them, and fuck Luca.

I turned to Gio. “A man who supports Sergio Donato is not worthy of running anything. Put Renzo in charge.”

Gio’s gaze softened, and he brushed fingers down my cheek. “Renzo isn’t ready. He doesn’t want it.”

“Someone else then.”

“It has to be a Donato. That’s the entire reason you married me, remember? To save your brother.”

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “That was when I thought he was worth saving,” I whispered. Before I knew he was so brainwashed by Sergio.

“Emi, I didn’t… I didn’t realize how bad it was. With Matteo and Chiara. They said she was ill—”

Anger spiked through me, and I whirled to face Luca. “And you believed them?”

She wasn’t ill. She needed help, and we all abandoned her. He hadn’t abandoned me, though. Not when I really needed him.

“Why did you help me escape, Luca?” It was the one thing I could never work out. He would do anything for our uncle, and he hadn’t helped Chiara, so why me? “Why me and not her?”

“Because you didn’t want to get married. She did.”