“You’re dealing with two people whose business is to do things under the table and within the shadows.”
She hugged herself. “I don’t feel like I know anything anymore.”
“Anything you want to know, I’ll tell you.”
Her bottom lip quivered again as her face held a sad expression. “Tell me everything. Please, start from the beginning.”
And so we sat back down, and I walked her through every year. Every conversation between Celina and me. Every fight. Every time I’d come to Belladonna. Every time I’d fled. Every enemy I’d made. Everyone I’d defeated.
It felt like talking in the confessional of a church.
I broke open my ribcage.
Ripped through my chest.
Cut through my heart.
I shed my soul.
Placed it right in her hands.
Hoped for the best.
Hoped that my soul would still thrive.
Hoped my heart would still beat with it being gone from me and in her hold.
She drank as I talked.
Her gaze widened in between the gory parts. I didn’t discuss those things in detail, but she had to know that I was a killer, and on what level. If she would be mine, I wouldn’t pretend to be someone else. She would have to know.
She’d heard that I was a killer, but she didn’t know that I was a monster.
At the end, she leaned back in her chair and whispered, “How many people do you think you killed over me?”
“Hundreds at least.” I took no glory in it, but I tried to help her understand. “I…I wasn’t born to be a killer. I didn’t wake up one morning as a kid and dream of murdering people one day. I became a monster through horror. Life created the monster. The beast wasn’t born. Mine was man-made.”
“And you think that you will always kill?”
I left the table and walked over to the wall close to us. These were difficult questions she was asking. These were things I hadn’t dealt with in years.
I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. “I think that killing will always be an option for me to solve problems. For others, death is not a resolution. For me, it is.”
I didn’t open my eyes. In my mind, I imagined her reaction. Disgust. Horror. Her mouth gaped open. A cry of fear.
Is she scared to be with me now?
“This is everything?” she asked.
I opened my eyes, feeling empty and clean for the first time in years. “That’s everything. Any questions you have, just ask. I’ll tell you anything that I haven’t thought of.”
She stared at me from across the room. Those beautiful eyes dissected me. I felt cut and open for her. I’d shown her the madness. I’d revealed the inside of my mind. The swirling chaos. The dark depths of my personal hell these past years.
She’d held a sad expression and then tried to curve her mouth into a weak smile. “So, at least you never slept with Shalimar.”
“She told you I did?”
“Yes. She said you slept with several women, and that many were in love with you. Now I know that was Rafael.”
“It was.” I made a note to have a conversation with Shalimar soon.
Rafael had been looking for her this week. Her phone hadn’t been picking up. A message kept saying that it was disconnected. Giorgio had sent men to her apartment. She’d never answered. They broke in. She’d packed and left. Not one trace of clothes or things were there.
This week has been insane. What will next week bring? Will Eden still be in my arms? Will this war with Celina finally be done?
“I know that everything I’ve told you sounds unbelievable.”
She tucked a few strands of curls behind her hair. “The thing about you, Jean-Pierre, you’re not the type of guy that pranks. At least that’s not the person that I know.”
“No. This isn’t a prank. This was the past three years.”
“That’s why Rafael was testing me by the pool?”
“Yes.”
“That’s why you were glaring at me, when you first saw me in the brothel?”
“Well, I wasn’t glaring. I was looking intense.”
“You looked pissed.”
“You were in a brothel, and with Belladonna for god-sakes.”
She grinned, and then it went away. “Is this really my life? This is what’s been going on around me for all this time?”
“Yes.”
She rose from her chair. “I don’t know what to say, Jean-Pierre. I don’t know what to do with you or even Aunt Celina. I just. . .”
“What? Anything.”
“I just need time to think. I have to sit somewhere on my own and somehow wrap my mind around all of this. I need time.”
“Of course, Eden. You can have all the time you want. Anywhere. Here or Belladonna. Somewhere in Africa, if you desire. Just don’t go.” My voice went hoarse as I tried my best not to beg to much like the desperate man I’d become. “Just don’t walk away from me yet.”