Ruthless Prince (Dark Syndicate 1)

“What?” I stand, knocking the pizza box to the floor.

“Bullet to the head. Cop associate said they found him in the back alley of The Crow.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Emelia

The second I see Massimo’s face, I know something’s wrong.

Something happened.

The look in his eyes and the paleness in his olive skin are enough for me to push aside my fury over where he spent our wedding night.

It’s late afternoon, and he’s just coming home. I push past the fact that his hair is scruffy like it would look if he spent the night in bed with that woman.

He walks into the bedroom, moves right up to me by the window, and takes my hands.

He holds my gaze. I know for sure something really bad must have happened.

“What happened?” I ask, afraid to hear it, not knowing what he’s going to tell me to break me.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry, Emelia. Something bad happened.”

I stare back at him trying to preempt what he’s going to say. He wouldn’t look so broken if something happened to my father, and I don’t think he would look like that either if he cheated on me.

I don’t think he would say sorry. Come to think of it, I can’t recall him ever saying that word.

“What happened?” I ask again.

“It’s… Jacob.”

I pull my hand from his, and a breath leaves my lips. “Jacob… What happened to Jacob? You said you let him go.”

“I did. I did let him go, but I don’t know what happened. I got a call this morning, um… Emelia, he’s dead.”

My knees give, and I fall to the ground with my mouth open. A gamut of emotions swarms my body and shock flies through me, slamming into every crevice of my being.

“No… no.” I shake my head.

He gets down on the ground and stares back at me. “I’m sorry…”

My hands fly to my mouth as the tears come hard.

Jacob.

My Jacob is dead?

It can’t be true.

“He can’t be dead. You told me…” My voice hitches when I remember in perfect clarity what Massimo told me. “You monster. You told me I’d never see him again. This is what you meant?”

When he left here last night, he looked enraged, ready to kill. I back away from him on my hands until I can stand, then I back out of his way.

“No. I didn’t kill him. He was shot. He was… somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be and knew things he shouldn’t.”

I cry harder. Poor Jacob.

This can’t be real. My poor friend. And why did he die? For me.