Page 73 of Plus-Size Bratva Possession
His eyes darted around. “No one,” he said, quickly. Something told me he was lying, but in time, once I broke him, I would find the answers.
I raised the gun, pointing it at his head. My hand shook with the effort it took not to pull the trigger. He closed his eyes, waiting for the shot.
But I couldn't do it. Not after I had made a deal.
With a groan, I lowered the gun just a bit. “You're going to the police,” I said. “You're going to confesseverything, and you're going to rot in prison for the rest of your miserable life.”
His eyes opened, and then, he smiled. “I don't think so,” he said, and lunged for me.
He was faster than I expected, catching me off guard. His shoulder slammed into my stomach, knocking the wind from me. The gun clattered to the floor as we both went down. He scrambled over me, kicking the gun away, and bolted for the door.
“Dom!” I shouted, struggling to my feet. “He's running!”
I heard shouting outside, but I knew Ricardo had a head start. Dom would pursue him, but whether he caught him or not didn't matter right now. What mattered was that I knew the truth. All of it.
Adriana had been unfaithful, yes. And she'd been killed for it, not by the Lebedevs, but by a jealous lover who couldn't stand to lose her.
Elena had been right all along. She'd tried to show me the truth, and I'd pushed her away, accused her of lying, of conspiring against me with her family. I'd hurt her deeply, and for what? To preserve a narrative that wasn't even true.
My hands were numb, but I felt so very ashamed.
I had to see her. Now. I had to tell her I was an utter fool, completely in over my head, living in the past to a point where I was willing to let go of the future.
I had to get on my knees and beg for her forgiveness. I pulled out my phone and called Dom as I rushed back to my car.
“He got away,” Dom panted. “Lost him near the shipping containers. I'm looking—”
“Keep looking for Ricardo. I'm going to the lake house,” I told him.
I ended the call and peeled out of the parking lot, praying it wasn't too late to fix what I'd broken.
Chapter 23 - Elena
I thought I could distract myself from the constant ache by taking up painting again. But all I had was an empty canvas to show for it. Since Gastone called, I’d been lost.
Hearing his voice, kinder in that call, apologetic, gave me hope again. I woke up in the mornings, truly believing I could go back and start over.
God, how I wanted to.
And then the pain came crashing back, reminding me of why I was here in the lakehouse, and I found myself remembering every little insult he threw my way.
I was sitting in front of the canvas, willing myself to just pick a paint, any color, when I heard a car on the gravel outside.
I put down the brush, thinking it was Larissa, and rushed to open the door without checking.
My heart lurched in my chest, for standing there, right in front of me, was none other than Gastone.
Despite the hurt clutching at my soul, I found my traitor of a heart speeding up at the sight of him.
Gastone said nothing. He just stood there, his brows furrowed in pain, his anguished eyes roving over me as though to check if I was okay.
The pain I felt was etched in my heart, not my skin. But I didn’t tell him that.
Moments passed, and I felt like I wanted to hide. But I couldn’t. He was here, and this was happening.
It took a few more seconds before I found my voice. But then, I said, rather hoarsely. “Come in.”
I saw the relief on his face with just those two words alone.
