Page 85 of Scarred Hearts

“Chance was given a choice,” he sighed. “Kill Ian or kill me. I wanted him to kill me that night because I couldn’t bear the pain and guilt that Jenna would ever have to go about her life without Ian. Chance actually pulled me down, holding me while people were firing over us. He literally took a bullet for me. For several months, the doctors were unsure if I’d even live.”

I stayed quiet, giving him space to share his thoughts as I rested my head on his arm.

“For the longest time, I thought the worst night of my life was losing Mila because of the guilt I felt. But it was this.” He gestured toward the remnants of what was once a gruesome scene. “Thinking that I wouldn’t live another day with my family. All I wanted was for everyone to be safe and okay. That’s why I pushed you away.” He turned toward me, taking my hands in his. “I’m sorry for pushing you away. It was never what I wanted. If I hadn’t been married when you showed up in Boston, I would have pursued you immediately. And part of me—” his voice trailed off.

I nodded, removing one hand from his and placing it on his jaw, searching deep into his eyes. “You don’t have to say it because I felt the same. I’m glad we’re both respectful enough that we didn’t fuck anyone over. We did this honestly, and we’ll never have to question ourselves or our loyalty going forward.”

“But that’s the thing,” he held onto my hand tightly as I tried to pull it back, “you can leave. I can’t. I have a life here, my job, my family, and my kids. You have nothing keeping you here.”

Ouch. My heart sank at his words. “Are you serious?” I pulled my hands away from him in frustration.

“You know what I me?—”

“No, I don’t,” I interrupted. “And I don’t want to because you have no clue where my head is right now.”

“Then tell me,” he challenged me.

I wanted to tell him exactly how I felt about him and his kids, but I was scared. I shook my head and tried to move away, but he held onto my arms with a tight grip.

“Tell me what you want, Giovanna,” he said through clenched teeth, using my full name for the first time. “You’re confident and fearless. Surely, you’re not afraid now.”

“I…” With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and took a moment before opening them again. “I want to be with you,” I said, finally speaking my mind. “I want to become a part of your family, cook for you and your kids, and be the kind of woman they can admire. But I’ll never be Mila. I’m not a good person. I’m… me. I’m a stripper who’s fucked men and women for money, I’m a fucking Mafia Boss now. Your kids deserve?—”

“You.” He slipped his arms around me, pulling me against him. “They deserve you. Do you think Ian’s a bad husband and father?”

“Of course not,” I scoffed.

“And what about Luke?

“I can’t say he’s anything less than amazing.” I rolled my eyes.

“Jade? Is she terrible for killing people who hurt us?”

I snickered, shaking my head.

“That’s what I thought,” he smiled, pressing his lips to my cheek before looking into my eyes once more. “So why do you believe you’re undeserving?”

“Because Kat’s actions have left a permanent scar on me, and I’ll never be able to give you everything that someone else could.”

He chuckled. “Baby, I lo?—”

His phone rang, interrupting us mid-sentence. With a sigh, he took a step back and reached into his front pocket to answer the call.

Hello?

In Fitzgerald with Gia. We’ll be right over in a minute. Tell Nadia to start on the bags or something. He lowered his gaze to mine. Yeah, sure. I got you.

He ended the call abruptly, sliding his phone back into his pocket. Meandering to the chair that once held his bloodied body, he picked it up, setting it down properly. Three bullet holes and old blood covered the chair, and I imagined how terrified I would’ve been had I been with him then. Though his scars faded to a degree, they were still a reminder of how resilient he was.

He arranged the other two chairs in a triangle formation and slowly circled around them. “I can’t get rid of the memory,” he said, his gaze fixated on the middle chair. “I wish I could do it all over again.”

“What?” My breath got caught in my throat.

“Flip the script and torture the Mussolini’s instead.” His eyes lit up with a malicious twinkle as he turned to me. In that moment, something shifted within him. “You know what? People don’t understand how psycho I can be. I’ve kept quiet for far too long in this family. That night, I didn’t make a big fuss. I endured the torture. Even before Ian and Chance came to my rescue, I stayed silent while Alejandro and his men hurt me. I looked them straight in the eye, which is why they slashed my face,” he gestured to the scars over his eyes, “and then they covered them up so I couldn’t see what was coming next. But I didn’t scream because I was in pain. I yelled in anger.” He let out a low chuckle. “The family calls me the ‘nice one,’ but it’s just the image I painted of myself for so long.”

I bit my lip to hold back the surge of desire that threatened to consume me, taking a few steps toward him. He had been perfect before, but now... now I felt even more connected to him. Tyler Prescott wasn’t just the good guy everyone saw. He had a dark and mysterious side… even dangerous.

“I’ve been repressing it,” he said, holding out his hand for me to take in mine. “I’ve been the good guy for my kids and Mila, but nothing was ever good enough for her or her family. It’s taken me so long to realize that I can be both good and bad.”

---