Page 180 of What's Left of Us

Rubbing my lips together, I peer at the closed door and then to the cameras in the corner of the room. The light isn’t on. “I did itbecauseI love him. We both did things and lied about them, but I don’t think either was out of malicious intent. I did what I needed to do to make sure he got out of the line of fire.” Wincing at my choice of words, I correct myself. “Itriedto get him out of the line of fire.”

“He’s alive, sweet girl.”

“He almost wasn’t.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” she tells me softly.

“All of it is,” I disagree, earning me an unfavorable expression. “Him loving me is why he was there. He would have done anything for me, and that’s why I needed him to hate me instead. So, no. I lied to you back then. It wasn’t for love. It was…convenience. A lie. A rouse. But when it blossomed…” My throat thickens. “It was ugly and beautiful all at once. And I may not get it back, but at least I know he’ll be okay one day.”

Her hands tighten around mine. “All love is a little ugly, Georgia. That’s what makes it real.”

All I can do is lift my shoulders. There’s nothing else I can say. I did what I needed to. He’s gone, just like Stefan Mangino wanted him to be.

She lets go of my hand to cup my face, brushing away a tear I hadn’t realized I’d let fall from the ducts I fought them to stay in. “I will make sure your sacrifice is not in vain, child.”

When she lets go, I clear my throat and try not to feel the absence of her warmth. “Maybe we both can do good with our lives now.”

Her smile grows.

“Are you happy?” I ask.

“Happier than I have been in a long time,” she admits, telling me exactly what I need to know in order for relief to flood my tight ribcage. “The question is, are you?”

We both know I’m not. “I will be. One day.”

Sympathy curls her lips. “One day,” she repeats.

During our hug goodbye, I ask her one last favor as quietly as I can. “Go after Nikolas. Nobody else. Leave the rest to me.”

I can only hope when we depart that she knows who I’m talking about.

*

The deli isclosed to the public, and only I know the reason why when I walk in to find two men in the same spot as before.

It’s the man across from Stefan Mangino who stands first to greet me. “Ms. Del Rossi. I’m Isiah Cross. I’m Mr. Mangino’s attorney.”

I take his hand. “Did Evan Maloney send you the transfer paperwork and closing documents?”

“He did,” the lawyer says, gesturing for me to sit. I slide into the booth and stare at the paperwork in front of me. “All I need is a signature, and the sale will be complete.”

Wetting my lips, I reach for the pen when I hesitate. “Carlo Salvatore?” I read under the name associated with Stefan.

“It’s a business alias, of sorts,” he explains nonchalantly. “For privacy reasons.”

I doubt it’s for privacy, but I don’t bother questioning him. “And our deal?” I ask, lifting my gaze to meet his.

“I will not touch your father unless he gives me a reason to, nor will I go after you or your precious detective.” He says it like he’s bored.

When I nod and pick up the pen, I stop as the tip touches the paper when he adds, “You should have included money in your bargain. A nest egg for your fresh start.”

“Then it wouldn’t be a fresh start, would it?” I counter matter-of-factly, signing my name in cursive where his lawyer directs me to. After all the papers are completed, I lean back in the booth. “I never wanted money. If I did, none of this would have happened. All I want is peace.”

As his lawyer collects the paperwork and puts it into a manilla folder, Stefan Mangino extends his hand out to me. “Then peace is what you’ll get.”

I get a chill as soon as my hand fits into his.

Wanting to leave as soon as possible, I get out of the booth and pause when he says, “I hope you get everything you want out of life, Georgia. It seems to me like you’re not the only one who’s gotten a second chance to live it.”

---