Page 101 of Mafia Scars

“Claudius, we have to prepare for the fact that I may not make it. I have to kill Victor. I have to. I know he’ll be fixated on Amelia. If I don’t make it out of this, I need to know that someone will stop him.” I couldn’t have a repeat of what happened to Henry and his family. It couldn’t happen.

“I will stop him. Look, we have to keep positive and get things done the way we always do. Can’t run away like pussies. But I hear you, and I promise you I’ll take care of your woman. You promise me this though?”

“What?”

“Be true to yourself. Don’t allow what happened with Dad to happen to you. Make sure you know what you’re doing and assess how you feel. We have it good right now. We run things here in Chicago. As long as we keep the cops’ pockets padded and our trusted feds’, we’re good. Make sure cleaning up is something you really want. You’re giving up a billion-dollar fortune to be with this woman.”

I was listening. I was definitely listening, and I was thinking about myself months ago. I probably would have kicked me if I were the Luc of the past. Raphael basically offered me the world, but I turned it down to be with Amelia.

Not just for her though. I turned it down for me.

She was what I wanted more than a billion-dollar fortune.

I just hoped everything worked out for us.

Chapter 21

Amelia

* * *

Dad opened the door to the studio.

The dance studio. My dance studio.

I sucked in a sharp breath when I saw it. Like everything else, it was the exact same.

We walked inside, me just ahead of him.

I looked at myself in the large floor-to-ceiling mirrors that ran around the room.

The place was big enough for a class, big enough to be a separate entity.

Dad had had this room done up specially for me. The floors were sprung, the mirrors perfect. Bars ran alongside the far end of the studio and down the length of the left side. It used to be helpful for my pointe work and bar exercises.

I’d loved it, still did.

Being in here made me feel completely at home.

“How I long to see you dance.” Dad beamed.

I laughed. “I doubt I would know how to do a pirouette or even a hop.”

“I don’t believe that. Talent like that never leaves you. Always, it stays with you.”

“I don’t know. I would love to. I just can’t bring myself to. Plus, we’d need music and stuff.”

“Stuff?” He smirked. “Like what kind of stuff?”

When I was younger, I used to substitute that word for everything. He’d play along with me.

“Stuff.” I giggled.

“Okay, how about we minus the stuff and see what happens?”

“You really expect me to dance, right here, now?”

“My love, I may never get to see you like this again. Who knows what tomorrow may bring?” He nodded.