Page 138 of He Should Be Mine
“I don’t think murder is supposed to be romantic,” I say even though the truth is, I have no idea what I think. None at all. My brain cells all froze when the deafening sound of a gunshot tore through them, and they haven’t moved since.
“It was the only way to get you free,” insists Dario calmly, as if we are talking about an inconvenience, and not a fucking murder of a human being.
“Free… or yours?”
Dario winces. He drops his gaze and looks away. A painful, heavy silence falls down around us.
“Can I leave?”
It’s barely more than a whisper, but at least I got the words out. I should be proud of that, I think. It’s an important question. I strongly suspect that leaving would be considered the sensible thing to do.
Dario very clearly is an extremely dangerous man.
So why does the thought of leaving make my heart feel like it is about to rupture? I know I wasn’t born with an abundance of good sense, but this is ridiculous. Surely I have more self-preservation skills than this?
“I can arrange it, if that is what you want.”
Dario’s voice is devoid of all emotion. But he still sounds like a man on the verge of breaking. He is not looking at me, but his anguish is everywhere.
My heart is racing, but I don’t think it is from fear anymore.
Dario carefully moves off of the sofa. But he doesn’t stand. He slides down to his knees. He kneels on the floor in front of me, and takes my hand. The one that isn’t wrapped around a mug of tea, with a teddy bear tucked under my armpit.
The corners of his eyes crinkle with pain. Physical pain. Because he shouldn’t be kneeling on his bad knee. Nevermind the fact that mafia men don’t kneel. I know that much. I’ve heard the Russians get tattoos on their knees to symbolize that very same point.
Gangsters don’t kneel. Not to anyone. Definitely not whores.
“Molly, I was never interested in being the heir, or one day being the don. If I had never met you, I would have stayed as Riccardo’s soldato.”
He pauses and takes a breath.
“But I did meet you, and you changed everything. So I have been plotting and planning. Working on overthrowing Riccardo and taking his place.”
He tightens his grip on my hand. I don’t think he means to. It just happens, like a reflex.
“Yes, it was all so I could make you mine. Because I wasn’t interested in any of it otherwise. Yes, I am a dangerous and possessive man.”
He stares at me intently.
“But I would never hurt you, Molly. You are the most precious thing in the whole wide world. I would never do a single thing against your wishes.”
His other hand rises up. Now he is holding my hand with both of his.
“I love you Molly.”
I suck in a breath. My heart has gone crazy, frantic and pounding. My poor frozen brain cells screech under a sudden onslaught of heat. But I’m still a long way from thoughts, let alone words.
Luckily for me, Dario isn’t finished yet.
“I love you Molly,” he repeats as if he likes the taste of the words on his tongue. “I love you, so I am asking you to stay. I am pleading with you to stay. But the choice is yours.”
My eyes are very watery. Extremely watery. Dario’s face is going all blurry, despite my frantic blinking.
“Molly, will you be mine?”
A sob wracks my body. My tears escape and fall shamelessly down my face. I’m trembling so hard it’s a miracle I’m not falling off this sofa.
There is no more blood in my veins. It is pure love. Love pounding through to every part of me.
