Page 35 of A Beautiful Crime

Feeling light headed I take a deep fortifying breath before I take my first step.

When I was a little girl mamma would stress to me the importance of being the rocks against the tide.

I didn’t understand, not back then, not when I was too underdeveloped to grasp her philosophies and ideologies.

But her words had always stuck with me.

As a little girl I thought my mamma was intelligent. She spoke eloquently, fiercely.

Little did I know that her philosophies and ideologies, her eloquently beautiful words that were fiercely said, were spoken not because of her intelligence but from her fear.

Her fear didn’t register to me. Not back then.

But now, now when I hear her voice in my head I hear the fear she had hidden beneath the surface. And when I visualize her face the first thing I see isn’t her beauty, it’s the terror that had always been concealed.

And it makes my heart wonder, my black small heart that beats every so often, it makes my heart wonder if she ever found peace.

Did the pills she swallow bring her the comfort she wanted? Did it end the pain? Did it take away the fear?

I hope it did.

I hope she found everything she was desperately searching for, even though it meant leaving me behind.

As I take another step I welcome the pain.

I welcome the burn that sears under my skin like embers.

I welcome the pins and needles that fray my nerve endings.

Because the pain, the pain that I want to be numb to reminds me that I’m alive.

And that pain serves as a reminder that my rebirth hasn’t killed all of me.

My feet come to a halt just shy of my bedroom door when I hear a distinct voice float downstairs.

The sound of his voice, deep and rich, hits me harder than all of Luca’s lashes.

It strikes me in the chest and flares the muscular organ in the cavity of my ribs.

The voice, that distinct voice sends electrical vaults to my heart, resuscitating it for it to beat once more.

My hands lay on the twenty-four karat gold door handle. My fingers grasp on to it like it’s a life raft.

There’s a heat that simmers inside me. Not from the ones Luca caused. No, this is internal. This is one that comes from deep inside. One that causes my vision to blur and a bitterness so poignant on my tongue.

This feeling, this deep loathing and yet something else that causes my stomach to tighten and flutter only belongs to one man.

It’s only ever belonged to one man.

“You only have until the end of this week and if you try to stop me I will kill you where you stand,” Constantine Donati threatens in a cold voice that is downright chilling.

I wait on baited breath for the response to whomever he’s speaking to. Curiosity strikes me and it has me slowly opening my bedroom door to hear more clearly.

“Why, Signore,” Luca begins with an amused tone, “you’re making one think that you actually care about her.”

That statement is bold.

Especially coming from Luca.

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