Page 15 of Beautiful Vows

I swallow, my mind still reeling from the revelation.

The pain of losing my mother is still raw, and the idea of losing another parent is almost too much to bear. Regardless of the fact, I came here to kill him; I refuse to let him dictate my actions.

“I can’t kill my father.”

“Just kill me,” Antonio hisses, his shoulders squared, his gaze is steadfast.

I point the gun at him, my hands trembling. I know his part in my mom’s death makes it very tempting to give way to vengeance, end his life, and continue my plan for revenge.

The door quickly opens. Dominic rushes in and warns, “Lia.”

I spin and point the gun at Dominic. “Keep out of this.”

I turn back to Antonio and say through gritted teeth, “You will die when I’m ready for you to die.” My voice shakes with the power of my words. “And when I’m ready to hear it, I want to know more about my mother and you. So don’t do anything fucking stupid.”

Antonio’s eyes widen, a flicker of surprise crossing his features as he realizes that my thirst for knowledge is greater than my need for revenge. It is right now. I need to know more about my mother and her life.

And possibly him.

“You want to know about me?” His voice softens.

My eyes close briefly, the pain in my thigh pounding in time with each beat of my heart.

I lower the gun, pressing my palm against the wound; the physical ache pales compared to the ache in my heart.

I compose myself enough to laugh bitterly. “You’re not getting away from giving me more answers. You can stay alive until I'm ready for you to die.” One day he will tell me the whole harrowing journey about my mom.

Antonio reaches out and wipes away the tears that stream down my face. “I’ll always look after you.”

He smiles at me, and I feel it. A bond—it's fragile—but it's real.

I want to sob into his arms. I want him to hold me and tell me everything will be better. Instead, I drop the gun and press my hands on the floor, adjusting my trembling body to rise unsteadily to my feet.

I momentarily glance at the gun and then fix my gaze on Antonio. I know he won’t kill me.

“Thank you for showing me the truth,” I say. I dig my teeth into my bottom lip to stop it from quivering. I swallow before continuing. “We’re not finished here. There are still answers I need, but I’ll find them on my terms.”

I take a deep breath, gathering all the strength I can muster, before turning away from Antonio and heading toward the door.

As I walk away, the ache in my leg intensifies. I grimace, aware that the impact of falling on the floor has likely aggravated my wound. My footsteps falter for a split second, but I push through the pain and keep moving forward.

Antonio comes and stands before me, and in a surprising gesture, he extends his hand. “Please let me help you.”

I take it.

“You’re in pain?” Antonio’s voice breaks through the silence, his concern clear in his tone.

“I’ve just watched my mother kill herself.” I let out a bitter laugh.

His eyes drop to the ground. “Sorry. I meant physical pain.”

“I’ll be fine. I just need to get out of here.”

“Let me help you,” he offers, stepping closer, his eyes soft, his intentions genuine. “Let me call my doctor.”

Something burns inside me. I need to know the truth, even if it brings more pain.

My voice quivers as I speak, hoping against hope for a different answer than the one I expect him to give me. “Who paid for me to go to England?” I ask. “You?”

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