Page 117 of Ink Deep Devotion

I turn my smug smirk onto Uncle Elijah again. His eyes tighten into little slits so minuscule I can’t see the color of his eyes.

“It bothers you, doesn’t it? Me asking that out here in the open?” As I reached for a breadstick, our eyes clash. I take a bite, the crisp sound echoing over the fake conversations before I begin to chew slowly.

There is not a word on this planet that can define what I feel for Uncle Elijah. Not after what he did to Damian, how he blamed his child for his cowardly wife’s suicide.

“It won’t be bothering me much longer.” He scoffs under his breath.

My eye twitches. Is he going to kill Mila’s dad? I don’t like Greg, but if he dies, it will upset Mila, and I don’t want that either.She’s already struggling to be this new, strong version of herself.

From the corner of my eye, I see Titan’s spine go rigid, his phone in hand, as his eyes begin to scan the surroundings.

Did the unknown number text him?

A sharp, pinpoint red light blinds my eyes as it glides over the window. It’s so brief and faint, like a dying breath that was lost in the thick night air.

I know what that is, but I’m not a hero. I can’t move faster than light. I’m forced to sit and watch as it happens.

Crack!The glass shatters!

We’re under attack!

We’ve never been assaulted in the open. No one is stupid enough to try!

I look up, but my dad and Lucas’s chairs are tipped back. Figures they dive for cover before saving us.

Screams drown out the Italian music playing overhead as our guards burst into the room. The photographers outside are running, but some stay and snap photos, causing the world around us to flicker with blinding snapshots. The loudest scream is coming from the model, so I dive, grab her, and push her under the table for cover.

I look for Damian, but he’s gone, already running through the front door in search of the sniper. Titan comes to my side; I shift to make room for him as I grab my gun, but my hand slips on something. The sight below is a gruesome mix of blood, flesh, and small fragments of bone.

I don’t panic. Initiation 101 trained that out of me.

I’m not hit. Is Titan? No.

Turning, I see Uncle Lucas and Elijah hovering over a body.

My father.

He’s lying on the floor, not moving.

Dad…

It’s not just a pool of blood; there’s something else.

No, I know what that is. I’ve placed my bullets through it too many times to count.

For far too long, I don’t move. I can’t. I feel a cooling sensation grasp my feet; then, as it inches up my legs to my heart, it becomes so frigid that I start to shiver. I jerk, finally breaking its grip on me. I inch forward on my hands and knees, and when Lucas does move, I shove him away with all my force.

“Move!” I howl.“Fucking do something!” I scream at Uncle Elijah.

I ball my fist and place them on Dad’s chest, ready to force that evil heart of his to beat again, but that’s when I see it close up.

Come to terms with it.

A bullet to the head. Sure, I could force his heart to pump, have a machine do it at a hospital, but his mind? That’s DOA. It’s like a branch cut from a tree; it’s never going to grow again. You can use it in a different way, reshape it into something new, set it aside and polish it like a delicate piece of furniture—the type you put in a corner and look at but never use.

I could do that to dad’s body but…it’s never going to be a tree again. Because his brain is dead, cut off forever, set adrift.

My hands fall lifeless, my knuckles dragging across the bloodstained floor.

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