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Stella

“H ave you been waiting in here the whole time I was gone?” Saint asks when he strolls into his office after his late-night Council meeting and finds me sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk, staring at his empty chair.

It’s empty. I’m empty. The whole house feels…hollow now. I can’t turn around or look away from the chair I’ve been staring at for the past hour or maybe longer. Or has it been seconds? Time may be standing still. At least, it feels like it should’ve been.

“That son of a bitch, Sanna, swears he didn’t know Kai was going to kidnap Cami from the cemetery, but I think it’s bullshit.” Saint pulls out the chair behind the desk and flops into it as he blows out a breath. “Anyway, nobody died. I didn’t confess to anything, as Creed demanded. Aiden’s supposed to instruct Kai to have Cami call home as soon as he hears from his son. I know Mom will be relieved to talk to her, since our lies about her staying with a friend are wearing thin. Oh, and why the hell didn’t you tell me about Cecilio fucking Ferraro?” There’s a long pause, but I can’t form a word. Not that Saint seems to notice. “Did you kill that son of a bitch? I heard dad mention it to Izaiah but thought he was exaggerating. I’m your goddamn twin. We’re supposed to share shit with each other. I don’t know why you didn’t kill Lorenzo, but he’s been taken care of now.”

“What?” I ask, snapping out of my stupor and looking at my brother.

“Lorenzo took a required walk off the roof earlier tonight. Guess your husband wanted him dead without the mess to clean up. The police were still there, blocking off the street, when I showed up for the meeting.”

Lorenzo is dead too.

I hope he’s rotting in hell.

“You look like shit, Stella. Go get some sleep. Like in a bed, not that little chaise lounge in mom’s room. She’ll be okay for a few hours until the nurse…”

I shake my head until he stops talking. “No more nurses.”

“Why not? We can’t administer the meds Mom needs.”

“We don’t need to,” I tell him.

“What do you…”

“She’s gone.” I finally force the words out of my mouth. The ones I meant to say to my brother as soon as he walked through the door but couldn’t.

“What?” Saint stills and studies my face.

“She’s. Gone.”

After a long, silent moment, Saint shoots to his feet and takes off at a jog from the office. I know where he’s going, but it’s too late.

It takes all the strength in my body to push myself to my feet and follow him through the house, up the stairs, to our parents’ empty bedroom. I find him standing in the doorway, staring at the comforter thrown back, as if waiting for her to return and wrap it around her thin body for warmth.

“No,” he whispers. “No, she can’t be…none of the guards told me…”

“After you left…I came back up to check on her and…and she wasn’t breathing.”

He spins around to face me, his eyes glassy. “Where is she? Did you call an ambulance? Is she at the hospital?”

“No, Saint! She’s at the fucking funeral home! They came and…took her.”

He shakes his head. “You should’ve waited!” he yells at me.

Scoffing, I ask him, “Waited for what?”

“For me to see her!”

“She’s dead! I couldn’t…I didn’t know what to do. I called one of her nurses, and she made the arrangements.”

“You should’ve waited,” Saint says again.

“Should she have waited to die at a more convenient time for you?” I grit out as damp streaks race each other down my cheeks. The first tears I’ve cried since I found her. I was in shock, and my brother probably is too. But that doesn’t stop me from shouting at him. “Maybe she should have waited until Cami came home? You know she’s been barely hanging on for months, and you still wouldn’t come up here to see her!”

“It was too fucking hard!” His eyes glisten a moment before the tears overflow. Rushing past me, not bothering to offer a hug or any other comfort, he says, “I’m going to find her.”

“It’s too late to give a shit now!” I call after him.

Seconds later, I hear the front door slam shut as he leaves me completely alone with maybe a handful of guards whose names I don’t know.

My twin brother just abandoned me, my sister is god knows where, my older brother is probably at the bottom of the ocean, and my mom and dad…are dead.

I’ve never felt so completely alone, and I don’t know if I can survive it.

Try to be happy, even if you have to let yourself be vulnerable to the hurt again.

Try to help your brother and sister find their own love and happiness, too, since I won’t be able to do it.

Sometimes the truth hurts.

That’s why so many people lie, because what’s done is done, and all that’s left afterward is the lingering pain.

My mother’s last words repeat in my head like a broken record. I type them into the notes app on my phone with trembling fingers, afraid one day I might forget them, forget the last piece of her I have.

And then, I do something incredibly stupid.

I call my lying, murderous, bastard husband.

* * *

Andre

I’ve just laid down in the bed that still smells of apples and flowers when my phone buzzes from the nightstand.

It’s probably Creed, although I’m not sure if I want to deal with another emergency tonight.

Still, like the dutiful cousin I am, I reach over and yank the device free from the charger. I hit the button to accept it faster than ever before when I see Stella’s name. Well, her contact is listed as “Wife” in my phone.

“Stella?” I say, unable to believe she’s reaching out to me.

“Can you come over?” Her voice is…softer than I expected. She sounds tired, but as for her request, my feet are already on the floor, heading to the closet.

“I’m on my way. Are you at home?”

“Yes.”

“Is everything okay?” I ask as I pull on the first pair of pants I can reach.

“No.”

Fuck.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“I need…my mom is gone.”

The pants I haven’t yet fastened fall into a puddle at my feet. “Goddammit. I’m so fucking sorry, Stella. I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay, baby?”

“Don’t hang up. Please.”

Jesus. For Stella to ask anything of me and add a please after the argument we had is unfathomable. “Let me put you on speaker while I get dressed, okay?”

“Okay.”

I lay the phone on one of Stella’s shoe shelves to fasten my pants and find a shirt. “Where’s Saint? Does he know yet?” We were just at the Council meeting, and he didn’t mention it.

“He’s gone to track her down,” Stella mutters. “I don’t know if he thinks I’m lying or if he’s in shock…”

“I’m sure it’s just shock and feels guilty for not being there with her when…”

“She went to sleep and didn’t wake up,” she tells me. “She looked so…peaceful.”

“That’s good, baby. I know it’s no conciliation, but she told me that’s exactly how she wanted it to happen. No doctors. No machines. Just closing her eyes…”

“Yeah.” Stella’s voice cracks. “And Cami…”

“Isn’t fucking there. I’m sorry. If I knew where Kai was, I’d kick his ass,” I promise her.

Neither of us say much as I step onto the elevator, heading downstairs. Or while I drive to Brooklyn.

In fact, the next words either of us speak are mine when the guards at the front door close ranks as if they’re not going to let me inside.

“Move,” I warn them.

“You’re not welcome here,” one of the assholes says.

“My wife says otherwise.”

“Saint…Mr. Rovina said not to let you in.”

“Well, Saint can kiss my ass.” Holding up my phone that’s still on speaker, I tell them, “I’m talking to Stella, who invited me over.”

“Let him in,” she huffs with a heavy sigh.

“No way for us to know that was her,” the biggest asshole of them all remarks.

Rather than ask Stella to come vouch for me, I decide to take matters into my own hands. “Just a second, baby,” I say into the phone before shoving it in my pocket. I walk up to asshole number one and swing my fist into his face. Asshole two tries to grab my arm. I ram my elbow into his neck, then up into his nose.

Two more punches later, and the front door opens. Two more guards come barreling out. I swing at them as I barge past, slipping through the door, then quickly locking it behind me.

“Have fun out in the cold, jackasses,” I mutter. Saint really needs to find men with better training.

I race up the stairs, knowing that’s where I’ll find Stella in her old room. She’s lying fully clothed, except for shoes, on her side, her phone propped up on the pillow beside her head. Her eyes are open, gaze staring at me blankly. She doesn’t look happy to see me, not that I expected her to. In fact, she doesn’t even lift her head.

And she looks so damn sad it breaks my heart.

I remove my coat, turning off my phone before tossing both on a chair, then go around to the empty side of the bed. Picking up her device, I move it to the nightstand to take its place. Lying on my side, facing Stella, I lift my arm slowly to chance throwing it around her. She doesn’t protest. In fact, she snuggles up against me, her face buried in my chest as I hold her shaking shoulders.

The dampness of her tears soaks through my shirt, but eventually, her sobs ease up, and she’s so still, I think she’s fallen asleep.

I don’t, though.

While I hate it was these circumstances that brought us back together, I refuse to miss one second of her in my arms.

Deep down, I know way too soon, the viper will take the place of my grieving wife, and she’ll go right back to hating me.