First Liv’s letters. Now the memories of what I did to Safiya.
Maybe I’m too much of a coward to remember. To face what I’ve done and dwell in it. The blond little waif haunting me now with her watchful dark eyes is merely my punishment. She’ll make me pay for my sins one way or another.
But for the moment, I’m not thinking of her.
I’m thinking of Liv. She’s here, back from the dead, enraged by the way I’ve let another desecrate her memory. Blazing with judgment, her eyes watch me from the bottom of the staircase. It’s so real…
When I blink, she doesn’t vanish. What the hell? I take another step and realize why—the same eyes are staring at me in real life, just in a very different face.
“Fabio,” I say, aware of the woman in my wake. How long has he been here? “Come to dispense with more mothering?”
“No,” he says, but the sternness of his tone sets me on edge. Only one of three things could ever draw this level of seriousness from him. Death, money, and Vin.
“He’s awake, Don,” he croaks. “Vincenzo is awake, and he’s lucid.”
I grab the banister, gripping it tight as a million different emotions barrel into me all at once. Relief. Guilt. Dread. “You mean he’s speaking?”
He nods slowly. “He wants to see you—” His eyes move to someone behind me. “Both of you.”
In the grand scheme, I never deserved Vincenzo. Hell, after how badly I’ve failed him, I have no right to even stand in his presence.
Fabio, and his insistence on “timing,” got it wrong this time. The best thing for Vincenzo would be to let him come to terms with the piece of shit his uncle is and secure him a future without me. I have the insurance papers finalized.
All that’s left is to ensure he can collect.
The second I cross the threshold of his room, one look at him dispels every other thought in my head. He’s still pale as a ghost, but his eyes are open, that signature shade of brown.
“Vinny…”
“He’s sedated,” Fabio warns, coming up beside me. “But—”
“You look like hell, Uncle Don,” Vin says tiredly, his words slurred but still delivered with his trademark grin. It’s weak and strained with pain, but it’s there.
Crossing to the bed, I grab one of his hands and suppress a shiver. He’s still so damn cold. “You’re not looking too hot yourself,” I croak, noting the bandages on his head. Still, I force a smile of my own. “We need you back on your feet and at that fancy university.”
“Same old Don,” he rasps, squeezing my hand with what little strength he has. “Always the hard-ass…”
He trails off the exact second I register the scent of roses. She always had a certain presence about her, louder than any fucking sound. It’s her stare. That subtle sensation of being watched—really watched by someone noting every detail. Every twitch. Every flaw.
Looking at her, it hits me how fucking blind I was not to see her true identity before. I’d referred to her only as tigre. Maybe Vin knew the truth all along; he just didn’t trust his own eyes.
He didn’t doubt what his uncle Don told him. How sick is it that I never truly stopped to think what her loss might have done to him? Sure, I’ve seen his pain when her name was mentioned—because he was usually the only one brave enough to ever bring her up. Perhaps I was selfish enough to hope he’d forgotten.
Of course, he wouldn’t. And I’d give anything in the world—my own goddamn life—to erase the pain twisting his mouth. His eyes widen and what little color remains in his skin drains away.
“Saf…Safy?” He tries to sit up, triggering a series of alarms from the machines connected to him.
“Easy, Vinny! Easy!” Fabio appears at his other side, smoothing his sheets and easing him down. “You have all the time in the world to talk—”
“How?” he demands, but he’s not looking at me. “How are you… How?”
“I think you three have a lot to discuss,” Fabio says, clearing his throat. “I’ll leave you to it.”
I barely notice him slipping from the room. The slender figure who comes to take his place consumes my focus.
In this moment, there are a million fucking ways she could spin her own narrative. Cry. Gape. Give any indication of how cruel I was to her. How vicious.
She keeps her face blank, revealing nothing and a paranoid part of me scoffs at that. She’s just biding her time.
“Saf…” Vin gapes at her like she’s a ghost, though hell, to him she is. I can’t even recall what exactly I told him. Just that our beloved Safy died in an accident. No funeral. No grave.
For seven years, I let him live with that lie.
“You’re dead,” Vin says softly. “Uncle Don?”
It’s not fair. Even weak, he still possesses the same hope Fabio does. Like the answer to their question has the ability to fix everything. Only if you tell the truth. Lie, and you’ll break something in them beyond repair.
“Vin…” I grab for his fingers, but smaller, paler ones beat me to it. She moves to stand closer, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. I don’t argue.
I don’t have the right to. It isn’t long before I feel like an outsider, intruding on a private moment.
“Get some rest, Vinny.” I step back, even though it kills me. “You need your beauty rest.”
I walk past her on my way out, but she doesn’t even look my way.
“That went…better than expected,” Fabio murmurs, appearing by my side the second I step over the threshold.
“Is this your way of gloating?” I can’t even put the right amount of anger into my voice. I’m too busy watching her, standing near Vin’s bed.
“No,” Fabio replies
