Page 114 of Silent Vendetta (Vendetta Duet)

“I’m sorry for what happened to your son,” I said.

I stepped back. Stanley Weiss knew my name, and could go to authorities, telling them I’d threatened to kill him. I couldn’t control that, but I could control my choices.

Killing a man to protect myself would stoop to the vile level of my uncle.

My uncle.

I balled my hand into a fist, my heart threatening to crack in half. How could he have taken my dad from us? Luna’s dad?

All to save his own ass.

Luna was right; her dad must have been killed out of fear that the real killer might be identified. It was unlikely her dad had ever been shown a picture of my uncle in a photo lineup, and while Luna’s father admitted it was dark and he doubted he’d be able to identify the person, that wouldn’t eliminate my uncle’s fear.

Of losing everything.

If he was willing to kill his own brother to protect himself, killing Mr. Payne would be nothing for him.

I could let Stanley live.

If my uncle confessed, could I give him the same courtesy?

With one last look at Stanley’s pain-stricken face, I turned around and gripped his gun. Staring at it in my hands.

If I left it here and he went through with his original intent, I could be implicated with my prints on it. If I took it with me, though, I had no idea if the gun was clean or used in other crimes. Should I get pulled over before I had the chance to burn it or throw it in the river, that would pose a big problem.

And I’d made Luna a promise to protect myself.

Plus, if Stanley was committed to ending his life, taking his gun would merely delay it. With a soft breath, I wiped my prints from it and placed it in a nearby drawer before turning to Stanley and saying, “Don’t do it, Stanley.”

I held the haunted stare of the ghost from my past before ambling out his front door.

The wooden porch groaned under my feet as I made my way down the creaky steps into the fresh air that smelled of distant rain.

Just as I reached the bottom, a sudden, deafening gunshot shattered the calm neighborhood. The raw, explosive sound reverberated through the air, making birds take flight and sending dread racing through my veins.

My feet moved robotically, drawing me to the front window. I looked through the murky glass to see Stanley’s body on the ground, the gun in his hand. A dark crimson pool spread from his temple, contrasting starkly against the pale floor.

I had spent so many nights dreaming of this moment, expecting a rush of satisfaction, a sense of closure. But instead of relief, a heavy weight of sadness pressed down on my ribs.

Once, that man had been a young father, cradling his infant son, filled with hopes and dreams for their future together. But a single accident had irrevocably changed the courses of our lives, binding us in a cycle of pain and grief.

I jogged to the car I’d borrowed from my brother—one of his spares that he’d left for me down the street from my mansion—and climbed in.

Ready to face the man who set this dark spiral in motion.

CHAPTER53

Luna

“Iwas just chopping watermelon,” I said, the sweet aroma of the freshly sliced fruit mingling with the subtle fragrance of the flowers that I set on the marble counter.

He followed me into the kitchen and smiled. “Tasks like chopping have a way of quieting the mind, don’t they?”

“I tried reading a book, but…” I shook my head. “Gave up after reading the same sentence thirty times.”

Alexander, tall with tan skin that looked too young for his age, positioned himself a few feet from where I stood near the center island. He leaned his back up against the counter—watching the butcher knife in my hand cut another strip of the watermelon.

“Coffee’s still fresh,” I said, nodding toward the silver holder where steam curled up, catching the soft morning light filtering through the blinds.

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