Page 180 of Vicious Addictions

However, my cousin does not laugh in return. He doesn’t so much as crack a smile.

“Yeah, well, let’s just say that the notion of one God might be all hocus pocus bullshit. But the devil, uncle? That fucker is alive and well. And his name is Marcello Romano.”

Chapter 30

Mina

Thirteen hours later, I’m right back in Chicago, where I never should have left.

I’m so jet-lagged I can’t tell what day it is, let alone the time. But I don’t care.

I’m too happy to worry about the little things.

Like how exhausted I am or how my body aches from spending nearly an entire day stuck on a plane.

I guess it’s only fitting that I was up in the clouds for so long—because a part of me still feels like it’s flying high. And it’ll take me a minute before my feet finally touch the ground.

Everything feels like a dream now, after I have been trapped in a dull, nightmarish state without my love for so long.

And from what I’ve read in the past twenty-four hours, my Jude has been living with the same torment.

His journals told me everything I needed to know and more.

His recollection of the past and present spoke to me on a visceral level. I felt his love in my bones, his tear-stained words in my heart, his longing in my soul.

But while Jude was ready to walk away from our love because he had some idealistic notion that he was doing right by me, I refuse to make the same mistake.

Unlike him, I’m not that conscientious.

Jude loved selflessly and cautiously.

While I intend to love him selfishly and loudly.

Yes, I’m selfish with his love. I want it all for myself, just as I always have.

And this time, I won’t let it slip through my fingers. I will fight for what’s rightfully mine.

And Jude Adamo Romano is definitely mine.

He always has been.

It just took me reading his journals to realize that my love for him had always been reciprocated.

That it hadn’t been a figment of my imagination.

That it was real.

That itisreal.

Though to be fair, I have learned from my past mistakes.

I won’t give him ultimatums this time—just choices.

Save for one nonnegotiable.

But as time drags on and I still haven’t seen his face or set my plan into motion, restlessness and anxiety start to creep in.

“Did you get his address?” I nudge Remus in the ribs, but he ignores me completely, too busy chuckling away at whatever DM popped up on his phone screen to pay me much attention.

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