Page 54 of Luciano

“What did he say?” she asked, eyes locked on mine.

I told her the truth. “He said you’re not safe with me.”

She stared at me for a second, scanning my face—

Then shepulled the trigger.

And when the shot rang out, she didn’t flinch, she didn't look away.

Matteo’s body jerked, then collapsed like a marionette with cut strings, nearly tipping the chair he was tied to.

The Beretta clattered to the floor.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then Ava broke.

A sob ripped from her chest, her whole body shaking.

She didn’t resist when I stepped forward. Didn’t say a word when I scooped her up into my arms.

I walked past Saint, past Aria, holding her.

No one moved. No one spoke.

Outside, the night was cool. The scent of salt water hung heavy in the air.

One of the guards stepped toward me.

I didn’t slow.

“No. Stay,” I ordered “Tell no one to follow me.”

He nodded.

I opened the passenger door, set Ava down gently. Her face was wet. Her shoulders trembling.

I got behind the wheel, closed the door, and drove.

No headlights behind me.

Just us.

Ava curled into herself, one hand gripping the hem of her ruined dress, the other pressed to her mouth.

I kept my eyes on the road.

I'd read what felt like a million books on grief. My vocabulary was extensive.

But there were no words I could think to say to her to make her better. I knew from experience. So I didn't try.

Chapter 25

Luciano

We drove for an hour and some minutes. Ava sat stiff beside me, her torn wedding dress stiff from drying blood, her wrists raw, angry purple bruises on her face.

The sight of her pain sent a white-hot rage through me so intense my knuckles ached around the steering wheel.

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