Page 45 of Mercy in Betrayal

I lean in. “I’m a man of my word.”

He nods, gullible as fuck. He’s normally sharp as the proverbial tack and dangerous as anyone I know—maybe even more so—but for some reason, he’s chosen to let down his guard tonight, and the drink is making his lips very loose.

Loose lips sink ships. I hope what he’s telling me will give me enough leverage to sink a few. “The Commission is questioning whether the current Five Families are capable of the level of forgiveness required for business to continue.”

I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”

He glances at the double doors before taking a puff of his cigar. “For instance…the Don of Miami said that he would never be able to forgive as necessary if he were in your position.”

It appears that Kael may be a bit too drunk. He’s making no fucking sense.

“My position?” I question.

“I almost agree with him. I would have a hard time allowing my sister to marry the man who killed my brother.” I hear his words, but it takes a moment for them sink in.

The cigar burns away between my fingers. There is a deadly quiet that flows around me.

“I mean, you have far more restraint than most.” Kael raises his glass to drink but pauses. Something flickers behind his gaze; I have the realization that perhaps he’s more sober than I thought.

Heat starts to consume me, and even out here on the balcony, I don’t feel the breeze. The air tightens, and I’m back outside with Carina as I tried to calm her down.

What was it I said?

Francis would have been happy to see you with Luca. Something like fear had passed behind her eyes. Did she know?

I can’t believe that. But, everyone betrays everyone in the end…so, why the fuck not?

Rage ravages my system, and I reach around a startled Kael, slipping the gun out of the band of his trousers. I hear his shouts as I rush through the main corridor, pushing wedding guests aside. They protest, and some even try to follow me, but nothing can stop me. Not even a fucking army from hell.

The double doors into the function room are open, and I don’t pause. I rush to the table at the front of the room. Carina leans into Luca, and it appears that they are sharing a lovely moment. I raise the gun, and I don’t hear the panicked screams all around me.

I feel the movement more than I see it...mostly men withdrawing their own weapons. Rowan screams, but I don’t look at her; my sole focus is Luca, who has finally noticed the shift in the room.

“What are you doing?” Carina screams.

“This is for Francis.” Luca doesn’t have a chance as I unload the gun into his chest; blood splatters across Carina’s white dress.

Her screams of anguish make me laugh.

She knew. She knew, and she married him anyway.

She needs to die, too.

The tip of my fingers burn, and I drop my cigar, the wind howling around me.

Kael is wearing a look of pure confusion. “Are you okay?” he asks.

I blink away the terrifying image of what I want to do and force a grin. “Yeah, just thinking about killing the motherfucker.”

Kael relaxes. “No one would blame you.”

I rub my burned fingers together. I want to go in and kill him as I just imagined, but there are too many guards. And I have the knowledge that Azrael is hiding out in the room. If I killed Luca, I would die on the floor, too.

And my sister loves him. There’s that. I can’t kill him.

When Kael speaks again, he appears far more sober. “I’d better get back.”

I empty my glass. “Me, too.”

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