Page 93 of The Devil's Pawn

He sighs sharply. “Thank you.”

His breath fans over my lips, and as he kisses me, a gunshot rips through the air, rocking the very core of me. We both whirl to the sound, finding my father on the floor and Dominic holding the weapon.

I begin to sob and shake once I realize my father is gone forever.

“I’m sorry, Raquel. It had to be done,” Dominic says, his expression hard, yet sympathetic.

“I…I know,” I cry.

Dante’s arms come around my lower back, holding me in a soft, supportive grip. I bury my face into him, and his hand begins stroking my back as I let the tears fall.

The end is just as painful as the beginning.

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

RAQUEL

After Dante tookme away from that place, I came straight to the hospital, even though by that point, it was the last place I wanted to be. I tried to insist on treating my own wounds, but Dante wasn’t having it. He gave me no choice.

I knew I was being foolish, but I didn’t want to be poked and prodded, even when it might have been for my own good. I had him promise not to take me to the same hospital I work for, so he drove a little farther to the next best one.

The day has turned to night. I tried to get the doctors to allow me to go home after they tended to my wounds, but the on-call doctor wanted me to stay for observations and promised I can leave tomorrow morning.

Every single time I close my eyes, I see that blade Carlito held in his hand. I feel the agonizing pain, as though I’m being slashed all over again. I try not to sleep, afraid the memories will follow into my nightmares.

The police have also come by for a chat. That was one interesting conversation, considering I couldn’t exactly tell them the truth. It’s not as though I could have said, “Sorry, officer, but what really happened was that I got kidnapped by a psycho, who my mafia parents allowed to hurt me, only to be saved by my husband, who doesn’t exactly have a clean record either.”

Instead, I told them I was leaving our house when a van came out of nowhere and a single masked man took me inside and hurt me while I was barely conscious before tossing me on the street a block from our home. There are no cameras in that vicinity, so the police will have a difficult time corroborating my story.

It’ll remain unsolved. Indefinitely. They just don’t know it yet.

I’m sure they recognized my last name, and I’m sure they’re very aware of my family’s reputation. I bet they assume what happened to me was some sort of payback for something my father did. I doubt they’ll spend too much time trying to solve my case.

My mind jumps to my father’s dead body. Those eyes staring blankly at me.

A knot aches in my throat. I miss him, yet I hate him at the same time for what he did to Dante’s family.

Earlier, I begged Dante to tell me everything, and he did so reluctantly. He wanted to wait until I was home with him, but I insisted, and he doesn’t stand a chance when I beg.

Not only did he tell me about his past, but he’s given me a glimpse into the awfulness my family has caused. Children and women being trafficked and hurt.

I know he’s going to find them and get them the safety they so desperately deserve.

He hasn’t left my side for a second. He’s only gone now because I pleaded with him to run home and take a damn shower and put on clothes not splattered in blood. His brothers are here, and Dominic said Chiara was on her way too.

I can’t wait to see her. Even knowing she never told me the truth about any of this when she knew it all, I don’t care. None of that matters anymore.

She’s the only family I have left, and I know she didn’t keep secrets without a good reason, or at least one she thought was good at the time. Chiara’s always had my back. She’d never hurt me intentionally.

I stare at the cheerful lavender walls, feeling anything but. I can’t stop thinking about the call I should probably make. My cell phone is beside me on the nightstand. Still no missed calls from my mother. She really doesn’t care.

Dante told me what he did to her.

No secrets, he’d said as he spilled every dirty detail, describing how he had no hesitation when he shot her.

But the way he said it…it’s like he wants to find the one thing that’ll make me turn and run. But I’m not running. He did what he had to do to find me, and if he hadn’t hurt her, she’d never have told him. I don’t feel sorry for her. If anything, I wish he’d hurt her more. I’m sure she knew what Carlito would do and welcomed the torture. She’d have deemed it a proper punishment for my disloyalty to my fiancé and the family.

But Carlito was never anything but a virus she attached to me. I owed him nothing, and I owe her even less. Picking up the phone, my fingers tremble as I dial her number. The call rings twice before she answers.

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