He doesn’t get to finish his sentence. I fire the gun into his chest. Two bullets. Blood sprays me, darkening my shirt. Leonardo’s body thumps to the ground.

I don’t panic. I’m oddly collected, given what I’ve just done.

Instead, I kneel next to the guy’s lifeless body and thoughtfully fill his pockets with heavy rocks. Then I push his dead body into the lake, leaving it to rot there like the bastard deserves.

Present

I walk out from the shower, expecting to see Francesca’s bright smile.

Instead, I find her standing there, holding the only evidence that I killed Leonardo Brambilla.

“It isn’t what you think,” I mutter as I come closer to her. “Don’t think the worst of me, Francesca.”

“No?” she cries out, slamming the soaked shirt against me. “What the fuck is this, Julian? And why was it hidden in the back of your closet?”

“I can explain,” I get out even though my heart is pounding with my betrayal.

I thought I could keep it a secret from everyone forever. Even from her.

But now Francesca knows.

“You killed him, didn’t you?” she whispers when the realization finally hits her. “You killed Leonardo.

It wasn’t Antonio at all. And you’re going to let him go to jail for a crime he did not commit.”

“That bastard deserves to rot in jail for what he did to you,” I hiss, but Francesca shakes her head vehemently.

“That’s not a good enough reason to convict him for murdering his own son when he had nothing to do with it!”

“Why does this change anything, Francesca?” I plead with her, eager to make her understand. “It doesn’t change a thing. It only means we can finally be together now. That we don’t have to hide anymore. I’m a fucking Bernardi now. We can finally be together.”

“You’re a killer,” she whispers brokenly. “You killed Leonardo Brambilla. What did he ever do to you?”

My mouth set in a thin line, I mutter, “He hurt you. I know he threatened you. I heard you were supposed to marry him after... you know.”

Her eyes fill with tears as she allows my soaked shirt to fall to the ground between us.

“You killed him because of me?”

“I did,” I nod eagerly. “I did it to keep you safe, Francesca.”

“I don’t believe a word coming out of your mouth,” she hisses. “You told me you hated me. You wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Still, I couldn’t let you get hurt, could I?”

“I don’t know,” she says bitterly. “You were just fine hurting me yourself only a week ago.”

Guiltily, I remember the time we spent at the University and how eager I was to cause her pain. I was such a bastard to her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wanted nothing to do with me again. Yet I can still feel this magical connection between us, a spark that refuses to die no matter how many times we try to put out the fire.

“Please, Francesca,” I plead with her. “You have to believe me. I only did it to protect you. I wanted to make sure he wouldn’t ruin your life.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” she says, turning on her heels and attempting to walk away from me. But my hand wraps around her wrist, dragging her back and whispering in her ear to stay. “No. I’m not staying with you. I don’t trust you anymore. I’ll just... I’ll just go home. Back to my parents.”

“Your parents?” I ask, raising my brows. “Your prick of a fucking father who abused you and your mother who had no problem starving you. Is that right, Francesca? You’re going back to them?”

“Shut up,” she manages, shoulders heaving with the effort not to let herself sob. “You don’t know anything about me anymore. You don’t know how much I’ve been through.”

“It’s all over now,” I try to convince her, but she just keeps shaking her head. “I’ll take care of you, I’ll make sure nobody ever hurts you again.”

“I don’t believe your promises anymore,” she hisses. “I believe nothing coming out of your mouth.”

“Please, Francesca, let me just make it up to you.”

“It’s too late for that.”

“You can’t go back to that hotel room where your parents are.”

“Watch me,” she hisses, pursing her lips.

“Stay here. Let me take care of you, Francesca. You won’t make it on your own.”

“How dare you,” she spits out, glaring at me with eyes filled with venom. “You don’t know how strong I am.”

“Likewise,” I hiss at her, twisting her wrist. She cries out, and I let go, allowing the split second of pain to serve as a warning. “You’re not leaving.”

“You’re insane,” she throws back. “I’m running the first chance I get.”

“Good luck with that.”

I pull her to the bed and use handcuffs from my nightstand to cuff her to the bedpost. She curls her lip up at the sight of them, but I don’t let it phase me. She’s mine now, and there’s no fucking way I’m letting her get away from me again. While Francesca thrashes on the bed, trying to get free of her restraints, I come up close to her, facing her angry tears.

Tags: Isabella Starling Mafia Heirs Romance
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