Page 149 of As the World Falls

Today was Lance's funeral.

I advised Cecilia not to go, but like always, she disagreed with mostly everything I said. I didn’t think it was the best idea, considering when Milana outed all of Chuck’s business, it was all followed up with his untimely death that quickly followed the allegations that previously made headlines. Every social media outlet, newspaper, and magazine was talking about the death of Mayor Fireux and one of his accomplices which was Lance.

I couldn’t avoid my involvement this time, considering when Cecilia was stabbed here, the paramedics and police all came to assist and obviously found the bodies of Chuck and Lance on my property. With the allegations against Chuck, we could innocently spin the story without incriminating ourselves.

They didn’t need to know all of Chuck’s motives, such as my bribery of the NYPD and his short partnership with Hodge Wiseman, who was found dead behind a coffee shop, his death ruled as a drive-by shooting, speculated to be by the Amato’s, who were in hiding.

Chuck was found guilty of working with and being paid off by the mafia family, the Amato’s, and targeting me as an alleged member of the mafia to hurt Luccio and declare war against their families. Mine and Luccio’s ties always seemed to make their way back to the public, which wasn’t going to be good for my business in the short-term future, not that I cared about that these days.

Lance’s involvement was tied up pretty much as accurately as it was. Chuck manipulated him to seek revenge on Cecilia for rejecting him and to hurt me for her loving me instead. I got away with it being self-defense on my property, which isn’t untrue.

In the big picture of it all, it was ridiculous and tragic for no good fucking reason. Chuck’s motives were all naïve and selfish, and Lance’s involvement was somewhat a crime of passion, I guess you could say.

That was how it was all being portrayed to the news outlets.

Still, Cecilia’s involvement and rejection of her best friend were no secret now, and I'm sure her going to his funeral put a lot of eyes on her. Not to mention his mother, who has pretty much damned her and me to hell and has been busy trying to file several failed lawsuits against me. I didn’t hold it against her. She was a grieving mother, and I’d never fault her for that. I didn’t regret my actions, but I regretted that it’s what it had to come to.

“Paparazzi,” Tobias finally answers me when Cecilia doesn’t. She just stomps right past me and up the stairs. A second later, we hear the bedroom door slam.

“I told her not to go. I knew they would eat it up if she went.”

“It wasn’t just that. His family also made it clear she wasn’t wanted there. She had to watch the funeral from a distance in the cemetery behind a tree.”

“Fuck,” I sigh tiredly. Just another thing she had to deal with that she didn’t deserve. “I should probably go talk to her.”

Tobias nods. “I’ll be close by. I’m staying at her apartment for a while.”

I nod, patting his shoulder as he turns to leave. “Thanks.”

I turn and head up the stairs, slowly opening the bedroom door. I see Cecilia sitting on the edge of the bed, rolling her black tights down her legs. I see the slow river of tears flooding down her cheeks as she stands up and begins unbuttoning the black blazer over her chest.

“Hey,” I murmur.

“That was such bullshit,” she sputters like she knew Tobias had filled me in on everything. “Those camera hogs actually followed us home. Can you believe that?”

“I can, actually. That’s why I warned you not to go.”

She rips her blazer off, her chest covered in a tight black silk cami, now exposing more of her skin to me. My hands clench at my sides.

“And I told you that I would never not go to my best friend's funeral.”

“He wasn’t your best friend,” I snap out, annoyed.

“He was once,” she yells back to me. My body floods with anger when I think about her supposed best friend's betrayal, but I push it down like everything else I’d been feeling.

“Anyways,” I say, changing the subject. “Are you alright? Are you feeling okay?” I notice her breathlessness as she stares back at me. She rolls her eyes and stomps into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. I hear the water running and sigh, but I continue to the door and go inside the bathroom.

She slips her black skirt down her leg and then rips her tank top over her head. She’s left standing in nothing but a sleek black thong, and my body burns with heated need as I stare at her, but then my eyes fall onto her back, the gauze taped over her wound, and the flames inside me extinguish, and I run cold.

She steps into the water and sinks into the tub. More tears fall from her eyes, and I feel sick at the sight of them. I hated the way she cried now. She doesn’t make a noise. There are no sobs, gasping, sniffles, or shaky voices. Her tears just fall as she mindlessly goes about her day, like they are just a part of her now.

She still sounds out of breath but seems to relax more as she slumps into the tub.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard.”

Her eyes flit to mine as she makes a face of irritation. “I’m fine.”

“You won’t be if you keep going at this rate. Just slow down. Please.”

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