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Ares

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Three Days Later

I leave the room where she is sleeping again. Serenity hasn't returned to her routine yet, and I'm starting to worry. She doesn't seem angry, only apathetic.

Yesterday, two police detectives came to take statements about the events surrounding Elmer's death, but that is just the tip of the iceberg. In the meantime, JeAnne confirmed her confession and declared herself an accomplice in the death of the real Serenity Clementine Blanchet.

I know Beau is on the hunt for Edgar Hazen, and I'm sure he'll catch him soon. I don't care what becomes of him; my only request to the King of New Orleans is that he finds the body of the child that Edgar killed. She has the right to a grave and to be remembered. Serenity asked me for this, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do to give her peace.

Plus, without a body, just JeAnne's confession, I don't think there can be a conviction. She finally appears willing to pay for her crimes, but several killers have allegedly confessed to killings they didn't commit, and I doubt the state will waste taxpayer money by starting a trial based solely on a confession from a woman who has lied her entire life.

I know that that day on my office terrace, Hades purposely let Elmer fall. My brother doesn't know the concept of the word forgiveness. I wouldn't have acted any differently. I wish I had killed Elmer with my own hands for the years he spent tormenting Serenity, for daring to have filthy thoughts about my woman.

I hear Eleanor's voice talking to the maid, and I smile at the thought that Madison's stepmother has taken it upon herself to be the family matriarch. Without any planning, through our weekly lunches, conversations, and complicity, the woman has become a type of loving glue, solidifying our family union. Since Serenity came back from the hospital, there hasn't been a day that she hasn't come to visit.

I walk to where she is, and as soon as she sees me, she opens her arms. For a long time, my brothers and I resented the concept of an older female figure because of the lies that had been made up about our mother. Eleanor came to the rescue. Reminded us that we are a unit.

"I got the phone number of a psychologist who can help her. She was highly recommended."

"Do you think that’s necessary?" I'm not the type to open up, so I can't imagine how anyone could pay weekly to tell a stranger their secrets.

"I think so. She may seem fine at first, but at some point, she will break, Ares. The life she thought she knew didn't exist. Serenity only has you and ballet." She pauses. "And our family, of course. But sometimes there are things we can't share with those closest to us. We need someone from the outside, who is not emotionally involved with us, to listen to us."

I nod. "Okay. Are you going to talk to her about it, or do you want me to?

"Don't worry. I'll talk to her," she says. "Another thing: Serenity wants to see her ex-nanny . . . I mean, her aunt . . . I don't even know what to call that unfortunate woman. Anyway, she wants to talk to JeAnne one last time."

I don't like the idea, but I can understand the need she feels to be face-to-face with the woman who, for much of her life, was her only frame of reference for love.

I believe that somewhere in her selfish mind, JeAnne really loved her. In a twisted way, but still, it was love.

"I'll arrange that."

Beau

NEW ORLEANS

"You are fucked. I have ties to the Sicilian mafia. They owe me fucking favors. They will finish you off."

Damn, I'm getting too old for this kind of shit. That son of a bitch won't stop whining, and the only reason I don't cut out his tongue is because I need to know where he buried the girl's body.

He's resisting more than I expected. For the last four hours, I have worked on his interrogation patiently, but the unfortunate man still has hope that he will get out of here alive. It's time to show him his options.

"If you really had a serious connection with any criminal organization in my city, you would know that the Sicilians ask me for my blessing on a daily basis. Everyone here does. A tip for your next incarnation: when you make friends with someone influential, make sure you’re talking to God and not His disciples. Now, no more wasting time. I'll give you a choice."

"A choice?" I can see his one good eye shine with hope. One foot is broken and sitting at a completely abnormal angle, he has no nails left, and he’s lost some teeth along the way. One of his eyes is swollen and closed, and yet he still believes he will get out of here alive?

He confessed that he was the one who caused the accident that killed the Blanchets, but in a way that I can only classify as irritating, he refuses to talk about the girl's death.

"Where is Elmer?" he asks.

"In hell. Don't worry, you'll see each other soon."

"What? You said I had a choice!"

"And you have. Here's my proposal: I can end your suffering now. A single shot between the eyes and you won't even know you're no longer with us."

"I am not?—"

"Quiet, damn it!" I get closer. "You’re not going to live, Edgar, no matter how much you argue. You killed a child, and I don't care whether it was an accident or not. You stole her life in more ways than one. Tell me where she is or you have my word that in the next few hours, you will beg me for death."

Five hours later, it's finally time for him to die. The son of a bitch clung to life as best he could, and his resistance surprised me. But three hours ago, Edgar revealed to me where he buried the body of the girl, and Roman just called me and said he found her.

The police will receive an anonymous tip about the location of the body, and I will call some of my contacts to make sure they don't ignore the case. The girl deserves justice.

I head towards the tool table, and after choosing a knife, in one clean stroke, I finish the job.

I take off my gloves and leave the warehouse without looking back, leaving Seymour, Roman's right-hand man, in charge of the cleaning.

Hours later, I get home and stand in the hall, watching my children and wife.

When they notice me, they come to welcome me.

"How was your day?" Amber asks.

I kiss her. "Boring routine. I'll be right back, baby."

I pick up my phone and call Christos. I know he'll let his cousin know.

“It's done,” I say.

Serenity

Two months later

I had a hard time coming to visit JeAnne. At first, I wanted to come immediately, but then I realized I couldn't. I felt too fragile, so I accepted Eleanor's suggestion and started therapy first.

I'm not feeling one hundred percent well yet. How could I? But at least, little by little, I am accepting that I wasn't responsible for what happened.

Before coming to the New Orleans prison, where JeAnne was transferred because most of her crimes were committed in Louisiana, I went to the cemetery to visit my real mother. I spent hours sitting at her tombstone, which Ares had beautified, and I told her about my entire life.

I cried and told her how much I wished I had met her and asked her not to worry, because I would be fine.

I excused myself from the ballet company. Three months was the deadline I gave myself to realign my mind, and I hoped it would be enough.

My story exploded all over the media. There was no way to stifle it. I didn't want to continue living a lie, in any case.

In this process of just telling the truth, I told Ares that I never dated Otis. He laughed, proud, arrogant, and all mine, the bastard.

I literally needed to reinvent myself. I didn't even have a real birth certificate or even a social security number. After much thought, I decided to keep my first names—Serenity Clementine—with my birth mother's last name, Lawrence.

I still want, before leaving Louisiana, to go to the grave of the girl whose life, without knowing it, I stole.

I will also give a press conference in a few days to tell my whole story, to put an end to the speculation. It was Elina, Odin's wife, who suggested that. She said that if I never spoke about it, like an elephant in the room that everyone tries to ignore, the press would, from time to time, continue to torment me.

That was also the reason I decided to visit JeAnne for the last time.

"I can come in with you," my boyfriend says.

"No. You can watch, if you want, through the glass, but I have to do this alone."

I tried to imagine what it would feel like when we finally met again, but after ten minutes of sitting across from her, it's like looking at a stranger.

Ares told me he's spiteful, that the whole family is. He confessed that he loves with the same intensity as he hates. I'm not like that. I think I have an abnormal ability to “unlove,” but it doesn’t turn into hatred.

I didn't know if seeing JeAnne would stir my emotions. I thought I was going to feel angry, but there's just an immense emptiness inside me.

She's been talking non-stop since I arrived. She’s tried to justify her actions, toyed with my memory, remembering happy moments, and talked about my mother too.

None of this has made my heart soften like I thought it would.

"You used me."

"No, Serenity, I?—"

"You did. I was an instrument for your ambition; you created me within a lie. You planned, deceived, inserted false memories. Along with that unfortunate man, you stole the life of the Blanchets' daughter."

Edgar Hazen was never heard from again, and I have a suspicion that the Kostanidou had something to do with his disappearance, but I haven’t asked Ares about it, nor will I.

"I need your forgiveness, Serenity. I know I will spend my whole life behind bars, but at least give me your forgiveness.”

I stand up, still staring at her. "It’s God who has to forgive you. He is the one who grants forgiveness even to people like you. As for me, I intend to forget you ever existed. If I ever forgive you, it won't be for you. It will be for myself."