Page 47 of Unholy Vows (Original Sin)

He nodded to Elio and approached. I knelt in the pool of the dying man’s blood, knowing there was nothing I could do about it.

“Breathe, Charlotte,” Renato said, crouching next to me.

A warm feeling surrounded me. It was Renato’s jacket, thrown around my shoulders.

“Breathe now,” he ordered and took my chin in a firm grip, breaking me from my reverie.

I hadn’t realized I’d been shivering until the heat of Renato’s coat surrounded me. I dragged a rough breath into my lungs and then another, my eyes snapping to his.

“Good girl.” He leaned down and forced my hazy gaze to meet his. “It’s not your fault.”

Renato’s deep voice warmed my chilled skin. Hands closed on my shoulders, and then I was standing. I stared at the man who planned to marry me. He stood in a pool of blood, his dark eyes fixed on me.

“You tried your best,bambina. It’s not your fault,” he repeated.

Elio turned me away from Paolo and Renato and led me to the crate he’d been sitting on. He smelled like tobacco, and the scent mixed with the harsh metallic tang of Paolo’s lifeblood coating the floor.

I sat on the crate, and Elio stood against my side, a wordless wall of support to keep me upright.

Renato now sat beside his dying man. Red smeared his white shirt and his skin. He sat in the puddle of blood unflinchingly and laid a hand on Paolo’s shoulder, leaning down to make sure he could see him. Paolo seemed to wake up from his delirium a little as he realized who held his hand.

“Elisia and the baby…” he muttered. His face was paling more and more by the second. It wouldn’t be long now.

“Are family. They will have everything they need and want, as long as they both shall live. They will want for nothing,fratello mio.”

Paolo nodded, a touch of a smile brushing his bloodless lips, then he shuddered. “It’s so cold here – I miss the sun. The sun on our skin, like when we used to swim in Capri.” He broke off and shuddered again.

Renato patted his shoulder and put his forehead to Paolo’s. “That’s where we are now, isn’t it? I can feel it on my skin; I can smell the oranges from the grove by Torre Saracena.”

Paolo’s eyes closed, and that slight smile settled on his lips. It was the last expression he would ever make.

After he was gone, Renato sat for a long moment, his head still pressed to the dead man’s. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the scene. The bloodstained kingpin mourning the loss of one of his men.

When Renato rose, he carefully laid Paolo down, and Elio went to help, closing the eyes of the deceased.

I stood forlornly, clutching the edges of Renato’s jacket in my bloody hands. I went to slip it off. He crossed to me, his shirt a Pollockian nightmare of bloodstains.

“Keep it.” He glanced meaningfully at my dripping-wet hair. “Don’t get sick.”

“So, I’m supposed to think you’re worried about my health now?” The words burst from me before I could stop them. I was shaken from what had just happened and blurting out desperate things. I couldn’t reconcile the man I’d just seen comforting a dying solider with the same one who would take two women hostage and force one to marry him.

His gaze ran over my face, his dark eyes seeming to drink me in. I couldn’t take his intense inspection. He used up all the air in the room.

“You promised to look after his family. Will you really?” I heard myself ask, my brain searching for some way to break the tension between us.

“Something you will come to learn about me, little nurse, is I always keep my word. Always.”

He leaned in, bringing his lips only inches from mine, so close his breath gently caressed my top lip. He held that pose as I wondered wildly if he was going to kiss me again. Was this one of those kisses that gangsters gave you before killing you? I had to binge some mob movies. I had no fucking clue what to expect from this man, and my heart might give out worrying about it.

“My word is my bond, and yours will be, too…Don’t forget your promise to me, Charlotte. I never said you had to be a happy bride, just that you have to keep your word.”

Then he pulled away, and I sagged, unsure whether I was relieved or disappointed. Just the fact that disappointment even flashed through my mind was evidence that I was losing my grip on my sanity.

“Elio will take you upstairs.”

I followed Elio wordlessly from the room, leaving Renato in the shadows behind us. The men outside crossed themselves morbidly as I passed, feeling like an angel of death in my bloodstained T-shirt. Then they headed back into the room with Paolo.

“What are they doing?”

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