Page 109 of The Don's Deadly Assassin

"Camela... It's over," Vincenzo says softly, his hand resting on my shoulder. I feel his warmth seep into me, providing a sense of comfort I didn't know I needed.

Because the Handler never allowed me comfort after a kill. For the first time in my life, I take no pride in taking a life.

As the Handler's legs give way beneath him, I watch his lifeless body crumple to the floor, blood pooling around him. A part of me wants to look away, but another part – a darker, angrier part – urges me to bear witness to the consequences of my actions.

"Is this what it means to be free?" I wonder aloud, my voice barely more than a whisper. "To feel such pain and loss?"

"Freedom is different for everyone," Vincenzo replies, his tone gentle yet firm. "What would you like it to be?”

I look up at him, this man I love. As I stand here trembling, I know what kind of life I want to await me. "Vincenzo,” I say, my lips trembling. “I never want to look back again.”

He takes my hand and whispers. “Come on now. Let’s go home.”

Once outside, he settles me in the car. He goes to the boot, pulls out some canisters and walks back to the house. I’m too tired to ask any questions and close my eyes. The door opens, and I see him enter the car. Behind him, the entire place is being burned to the ground.

“You’ll never have to come back here,” he says, revving the engine to start.

Chapter 44

Vincenzo

My knuckles are white as I grip the steering wheel, tension thrumming through my body. In the passenger seat, Camela sobs quietly, tears streaking her pale cheeks. Her hands tremble in her lap.

Guilt gnaws at my gut as I glance at her. I've dragged her into this mess, forced her to face the demons of her past. If I hadn’t found that photo, shown it to her, encouraged her to come here… none of this would have happened.

Things weren’t ideal before, but I wonder what toll it is going to take on her, knowing, that all this time, the Handler was her father. Because of me, she's reliving the trauma at the hands of that monster. In an entirely new manner.

Camela sniffles, drawing a ragged breath. "Vincenzo, I...I'm so sorry. For everything I've done. The lives I've taken." Her voice cracks on the last word.

I reach over and squeeze her hand. "You did what you had to do to survive. None of this is your fault." My thumb brushes over her knuckles, hoping to soothe away her distress.

“But there must be thousands of people in the world, suffering because of me,” she cries out.

I sigh, my heart wrenching in pain. “It was never you, Camela,” I say gently, but firmly. “You were brainwashed by that man. His cruelty ran deep.”

“I never want to talk about him again. I never…” she whispers, looking away.

“Never what?” I ask, gently, waiting for her to finish.

“I never want to kill again,” she says, hesitantly, like saying it is amputating a part of who she is.

A surge of pride goes down my spine. She’s denouncing what the world told her she is, but never was. She’s learning her true self, and I’m enthralled at her grabbing hold of who she is with both hands.

“You’ll never have to,” I tell her, fiercely. “You’ll never be put in a position like that again. You’re free, to reclaim your innocence lost.”

"How can you say that?" Fresh tears spill down her cheeks. "I'm a killer. A monster. I’m not innocent."

"No." I bring her hand to my lips, pressing a fierce kiss to her skin. "You're not a monster. You're a survivor. My survivor."

Camela stares at me, eyes glassy with tears. For a long moment, she's silent. Then she nods once, a subtle dip of her chin.

Camela pulls back, wiping at her eyes. A watery smile touches her lips. "You're too good to me, Vincenzo."

"Nonsense." I look over at her, shaking my head, before turning back to the road. "I’m not good enough. The world’s disappointed you so that you don’t even realize your worth."

Her eyes widen, flickering between my face and the road ahead. "You can't mean that. I'm--"

"The love of my life," I interrupt gently. "The one I want to share everything with. Including a future together, away from all of this." I nod at the winding road around us, symbolizing the life we're leaving behind.

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