Page 11 of King

I push the image away.

“Fine.” She says.

My brows raise. “Fine?”

“I’ll go. But this isn’t over, Giovanni. This conversation isn’t over and I’m not disappearing again. We will talk again. I’ll call you in a few days, after you’ve had time to grieve. But you have to understand that Guido and I have waitedsixteen years.We won’t wait much longer.”

I clench my jaw and nod. At least she’s leaving for now. I’ll come up with a plan once I’ve had time to think. Maybe I can offer her money to disappear again.

“I understand.” I nod again when she looks at me with expectations of an answer.

“Good.” She sighs. Her eyes trace over my face, studying my features. Her lips part for a moment and my heart races for no reason at all.

Zina looks down, away from me, then turns her back on me and disappears into the dark sheets of rain with our son at her side.

For a long time I stand out in the rain alone.

I don’t want to go back inside. I should, but at the same time, I am the king of this kingdom and I have nothing to prove to anyone inside there.

I shove my hands into my pocket and walk towards my car. Away from the crowds waiting to find out what’s going on.

They can wait. I’ll never tell them the truth, anyway.

My sons will find their own way home.

I need to get away from all of this.

Grief affects everyone in different ways.

Losing Bella is an ache I’m carrying in my chest, but the weight of the constant pain she was in has lifted from my shoulders. The last two months were hell for both of us. More for her, but no one ever wants to see someone they love experiencing that.

Walking into our bedroom on the top floor of my mansion, my clothes still soaked from the rain, I leave wet footprints on the carpeted floor.

Bella would be angry with me if she saw this.

I smile, kicking my shoes off.

Two days ago this room looked like a medical ward at a hospital. There were machines next to her side of the bed to help her breath. There was a drip attached to a long steel pole, constantly feeding a low dose of morphine into her blood. She was in and out of consciousness. Sleeping through the worst days, fogged and weak on the best days.

I sigh loudly.

The family cleared everything of hers out of here, even her clothes in the closet. I didn’t stop them. What’s the point of holding onto her things when none of those items will bring her back to me.

I clench my jaw. I did keep something.

Pulling the top drawer of our dresser open I reach inside and pick up the ornate, vintage style perfume bottle. The crystal glass glitters as I turn it in my fingers. Lifting the bottle to my nose I breathe in, closing my eyes as her scent washes over me.

Her wedding ring is tied with a ribbon around the neck of the bottle.

This is all I have of her.

It’s all I kept.

Before emotions can overwhelm me I place the bottle back where it was and close the draw roughly.

In the bathroom I peel off my wet clothes and dump them into the tub before I climb into the shower and let hot, steaming water wash over me.

It beats against my back, massaging my skin and my thoughts.

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