Page 50

Again.

My brain tells me I had no choice. It's self-defense, and unlike before, I know for a fact that Greg wasnota good man, and he would've killed me if I hadn't killed him first. Those are the facts...but they mean shit to my heart, which has been shriveling in shame since I made a grab for Greg's gun...and accidentally fired it straight into his heart in the process.

I'm sorry, God, I'm sorry.

It's almost like I have this knack for shooting evil men dead, and I wonder if it's a skill that I may have inherited from the criminal side of my family. Once a sinfulfamiglia,always a sinfulfamiglia.Maybe that's just how these things go, and this is a case of an apple never falling far—-

"Penelope?"

I haven't even heard the door open, but one thing I'm heartbreakingly sure of is that voice.

Cesare.

Even though I know it can only be him, a shudder still violently rocks my body as soon as my head jerks up, and my stricken gaze collides with his.

He's standing by the doorway, still dressed in the same clothes I've seen him in earlier, and his too-handsome face still bearing faint evidence of the beating he had endured while in jail. His pallor is unmistakable, but I'm not going to fool myself into thinking it's because he's concerned about me.

My lip starts to tremble as I watch him stride in.

I want to cry.

I want to scream.

I want to run away.

But when he finally reaches me, and he crouches down on one knee—-

God, it hurts.

The pain is just too much, and my heart is aching just too hard, that all I can do is breathe.

"That girl you saw with me—-" He's speaking so damn fast, it's as if he wants to make sure he gets everything out before I can escape him. "It's Gazelle,tesoro.My sister."

His...sister?

"I knew you didn't recognize her, and I deliberately let you think she was someone else."

Because he wanted to hurt me.

"I'm sorry," Cesare says jerkily. "Forgive me. Please."

He speaks as if each and every word is whipping his soul—-but how can I believe him, after everything that he's confessed, and after everything I've found out?

"I n-need you to tell me the truth," I say stiltedly. "G-Greg told me...b-before he...before we started fighting over the gun..."

"Penelope—-"

"I need to know the truth!"

My voice cracks in the end, and the way his face whitens tells me more than I want to know.

God, oh God.

"Perdonami. Forgive me."

But because I'm still so, so damn foolish, there's still the tiniest part of me hoping that I have it all wrong.

"Did you r-really cut a deal with them?" I ask brokenly. "D-Did you agree to end our betrothal—-"