Page 105 of The Empress

“Everyone, clear out!” Massimo orders, then he pulls at my shoulders and drags me away from Nicolo’s mangled body.

His arms lock around me from behind. “It’s over. You’ve killed him.”

I grip Massimo’s arm, gasping for air as the realization sinks into the depths of my soul.

I’ve finally killed Nicolo Romano.

I’ve avenged the Messinas.

Chapter 27

HAVEN

Leo’s only been gone to look for Nicolo a day, and I already miss him.

I was supposed to visit Mom, but I ended up cancelling because I need time to process everything I learned about my past.

When we found out who I am, Leo lost his shit, and I had to focus on calming him down to keep him from going on a killing spree.

Sitting on the couch, I stare through the windows at the view of the ocean, my Kindle forgotten on my lap.

Sofia, the housekeeper, left two hours ago, and since then I’ve been sitting here trying to remember my family.

There are only little bits and pieces, but no real memories. I Googled it, and they say it’s normal for memories before the age of six to be vague and fragmented.

Still, it doesn’t keep me from trying.

All the therapy I received over the years helped me deal with my parents being murdered in a robbery gone wrong.

But… I also lost an older brother.

And it wasn’t a robbery.

My family was murdered because Nicolo wanted to kill Leo.

I was kidnapped.

I lean forward and pick up the stack of photos again. I keep looking through them because seeing my family and how happy we were makes me feel closer to them.

Slowly, I stare at one photo after another, memorizing every little detail of Diego and our parents' faces.

My phone beeps, pulling me out of my thoughts. I set the photos down before picking up the device and checking the message.

Kristen: What the hell is going on in Italy? It’s been a month! I’m worried sick. We’ve shared everything, Haven. I know when you’re keeping something from me.

Before I can reply, she sends another text.

Kristen: I got all your stuff out of the house. Half is in my parents' garage, and the rest I placed in storage.

A pang of sadness hits because I miss my best friend so much.

Instead of typing a message, I press dial and wait for the call to connect.

The second it rings, Kristen accepts, and then she cries, “Oh my God!!! Haven? Are you okay? Is your mom okay? What the hell is going on over there?”

“Hi. I’m so sorry.” I lower my head and draw random patterns on the couch with my finger. “A lot has happened.”

“Tell me everything,” Kristen demands. “Wait. It’s so good to hear your voice. I miss you.”