Even eye to eye, he doesn’t intimidate me. “First, we’re going to make you watch as we end Raphael. It’s not going to be quick, nor is it going to be pleasant. Only after he’s dead as dead can be will we turn our attention to you. Damon was a fool to think with his dick, and he paid the ultimate price, as will you for killing him. If you think what we’ll do to your love will be bad, it’ll be nothing compared to what you’re going to suffer.”
Dropping my eyes, I take in his robes and collar. “The Lord blessed me with the strength to endure the worst of times. I’ll look forward to spending time with you.”
His jaw ticks in agitation, telling me I’ve hit the mark.
“They don’t have to die with you. Give them one last order to put down their weapons and save themselves.”
“That’s the thing about loyalty, Father. Even if I order them to lay down their arms, seeing me on my knees at your mercy…” I pause and look him straight in the eye. “They won’t listen this time. They know what they’re fighting for. They fight for Vita, not just me.”
Pursing his lips, his agitation grows, and I keep my chin high. If he thinks they’ll break me, they’ll have the wait of their lives. They can do their best to destroy me physically, but they won’t even scratch my soul. I know who I am and what I stand for, what I’m willing to die for. After all this time, it’ll never change.
“What’s this?”
The Father looks up to his brother and then over his shoulder. He swivels as he stands, and I can’t see anything as he walks down the steps. However, I don’t need to.
“Sisters, it’s not a good time to be out today,” he advises.
“They’re the silent sisters of Vita, Father. They visit the fountain every week, and each collect a vile of the water. For over a hundred years, they’ve believed it cures the sick. They visit the children in hospitals and the elderly,” I say loud enough to be heard by most.
We’ll see just how committed he is to the cloth in the next few seconds. My heart races as I pray for their safety.
“Let them through.”
He steps to the side and sweeps his hand out for them to pass. The sisters don’t murmur a word, keeping their heads bowed as they shuffle forward in their formation.
Shooting Raphael with a wide-eyed plea to understand what I’m trying to tell him without actually speaking it, his brows pinch together in confusion.
I jerk my head fractionally toward Damien behind us and mouth, “Be ready,” cutting my eyes to Damien once again.
There’s no time left. Billows of black gowns float between us as sisters break apart and surround Raphael and I.
Moving slowly, they don’t stop on their way to the fountain, but they do hand me a shotgun. No sooner are we bathed in gowns, they’re gone, and I’m on my feet before Father DiMarco can climb the steps and knock the gun from my hand. Glancing over to Raphael, he’s also up and pointing his gun at Damien. Locked and loaded, I train mine on the Father.
“Fucking hell,” Raphael whispers in awe. I take a moment to look over my shoulder to see what has caught his attention.
The sisters, who happen to be the women from the refuge, led by Gabriella and Lila, have discarded of their habits and each have their guns trained on the men surrounding the brothers.
“I told you to trust me.”
“I never doubted you, my love.”
This time, I let my smile grow while focusing on the Father, leaving Raphael to concentrate on Damien.
“Vita doesn’t belong to you, it belongs to us, and you’re going to pay.”
Stepping down, I don’t stop until the barrel of my gun is digging into his chest. Usually, I’d have a problem killing a man of the cloth, but like he made clear to me not so many moments ago, he had much worse planned for me. Not one of their men even attempt to stop me, and I know once I’ve pulled the trigger, everything will stop for a second before chaos erupts.
“It looks like history is repeating itself, doesn’t it? Our families took this city from your ancestors once, and we’re doing it again today. Not that it was ever yours. I didn’t give your brother a chance for any last words, nor will I give you the opportunity.”
Squeezing the trigger, I feel nothing. As the bullet is fired, Father DiMarco’s body drops to the ground, and as I expected, nothing happens around us.
“Men and women of Vita, fight for your city!” I yell, drowned out by all the gunshots being fired into the air in every direction.
Turning to Raphael, he’s not in the place where I last saw him. Searching him out, I can’t find him through the violence. Damien is missing too. I turn in a circle, looking this way and that, but he’s nowhere in sight. My heart pounds at not having a clear view of him.
“Raphael!” I scream.
This was for Vita, but it was for us too. It was for a life to finally be together.
“Jamila! This way!” Cristian shouts. I run toward him as he looks frantically between me and off in the distance.
“Damien ran in the chaos after you shot the priest, and Raphael gave chase. They went this way.”
Together we run, and the only lead we have are the occasional gunshots away from the fight. How far could he have gotten with a gunshot wound in his leg?
Three streets from the market square, shots echo in the old abandoned factory to our right. A factory Raphael has been trying to get his modernising hands on to remodel into luxury apartments with his cold, ugly visions.
My heart thumps as we step inside, the shadows casting dark corners where Damien could be hiding.
“Raphael would kill me if I didn’t at least tell you to stick to my side,” Cristian whispers.
“Raphael knows better than to expect me to listen. Come on—”
Another shot is fired, coming from somewhere above us. Spinning around, I find a staircase on the far side of the factory floor.
“We haven’t come this far for the three of us to be taken down by one man.”
There’s no hiding now that we’re coming. Our footsteps echo through the old building, the stairs creaking with every step.
“You have nowhere to go,” I hear Raphael say.
“Nor do you.”
Stopping at the top of the stairs, I press my finger to my mouth to keep Cristian quiet and listen.
“The nuns were a nice touch. Never in a million years would I have seen that coming.”
“Yeah, well, my woman has a habit of thinking outside the box. People who underestimate her tend to end up dead, and you’ll be no exception.”
“I’m not the only one with a gun pointed at me. I could pull the trigger and end you first.”
Cristian is shaking with rage beside me. I won’t be able to hold him back much longer.
“And I’ll die knowing Mila will be safe and has Vita.”
My heart plummets. There’s no way Raphael is dying today. Not like this, and not by a DiMarco.
“You’ve taken enough from us, but you’re not taking him from me as well,” I say, entering the room with Cristian at my back.
Damien swings his gun toward me, then back at Raphael, not knowing who to target. Three guns on him verses his one at us isn’t good odds for him.
“One of us is going to die today. Maybe two if I get a shot in.”
He’s certainly going down fighting, I’ll give him that. But Raphael is important to me, and his cousin is important to him, so like I said, he’s not going to take him from me.
“We’re not the ones who lose today. At least go out like a man with what dignity you have left,” I spit out.
“It’s the dignity I have left that takes one of you with m—”
A single shot is fired, and it didn’t come from of me. Cristian steps up beside me and lowers his gun.
“He talked too much.”
Raphael’s chest heaves with relief, and my shoulders sag, relaxing for the first time in weeks.
Raphael smiles. “It’s finally over.”
“Do you finally
trust me now?”
“You fucking bet I do.” His smile turns into a full-blown grin.
“So that’s where you went this morning? To the refuge?”
“Yep. Men in power only see women as mothers and housekeepers. They couldn’t ever imagine them posing a threat.”
Raphael crosses the space between us and scoops me up in his arms, swinging me around and around, his laughter echoing through the empty building. This victory is music to our ears.
“This is it, what we’ve been waiting for all our lives,” he says, putting me back on my feet. His hold tightens around me, making it clear I’m not going anywhere, but there’s nowhere I’d rather be. We finally have nothing standing in our way.
“Peace,” I breathe, leaning up to kiss him.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him in closer and kneed my fingers into his hair.
DiMarco had it right when he called this a new day for Vita. We finally have everything we wanted.
“Sorry to interrupt, but we should get back to the market square. The DiMarco men need to know their fight is over, if they’re not already dead, that is,” Cristian directs. Pulling away from Raphael, my hand finds his.
One of us, no doubt Cristian, will have Damien’s body picked up and disposed of. The three of us, tired and sore, are halted by a deep voice I’d recognise anywhere.
“Not so fast.”
We all turn to find Trey slinking out of the shadows, and yet again, Raphael has a gun aimed at his heart. I’m getting real tired of this shit.
Raphael is quick to shove me behind him, and I growl in protest. When is he going to fucking learn? I don’t hide behind anyone.
Cristian swings his gun up and aims for Trey as I push around Raphael, placing myself in between the three men.
“Put the gun down, Trey.”
Shaking his head, his hand grows whiter from gripping his gun so tight. “I can’t let you be with him, it’s not right. Nowhere in the prophecy did it say you were destined to love one another, yet he’s warped you into thinking it did.”
“It’s not why I love him,” I say softly. “Trey, you’ve been by my side for so long, don’t do this now. Don’t ruin everything we worked for.”
“We—we worked for, Jamila. You feel something for me, you can’t deny it.”
“I care for you, but it’s not love. It’s always been him, and it always will be.”
His face contorts in an ugly, twisted manner.
“Then you’ll have to kill me. It’s the only way to save him.”
There are very few people who have seen me cry, but today, I can’t hold the tears back. For once, I’m afraid.
“Don’t make me choose,” I plead with him.
“You’re not his, Mila,” he grits out.
His gaze cuts over my shoulder and his aim follows.
“Even if you shoot me, she’ll never choose you. She would’ve done it by now, don’t you think?”
“Shut up, Raphael,” I growl. He isn’t helping, and I’m doing this for him because I don’t want to kill my closest friend.
No matter what’s gone on between us over the years, he is my friend.
“Put the gun down, Trey!” Cristian hollers so loud, I can feel my throat straining around his words.
“I can’t…”
Over the last few weeks, I’ve taken lives and felt nothing. I’ve aimed guns at men who only want the same as me, our city, but as pain shifts to determination in Trey’s eyes, I aim my gun at him and sob as I pull the trigger. If this is how he wants to go, I’ll be damned if I won’t be the one who ends him.
As soon as his body hits the dusty floorboards, I’m moving and dropping to his side. Blood pumps from his chest, but as I hover over him, he’s smiling up at me.
“Why, Trey? Why?”
“Because I… love you,” he splutters, crimson red blood shooting out of his mouth, staining his chin.
“Please, forgive me. You left me no choice,” I sob. “It didn’t have to be this way.”
“Yes it… did… We can’t both… love you.”
My friend is dying. No matter how much pressure I put on his wound, the life seeps from him. Long before I stop pumping his chest, he dies.
I cry so hard, I can’t catch my breath. Pounding his chest, I curse him for doing this. I accused him of being jealous, for acting out because he wanted me for himself. He couldn’t learn to trust the Marocchi’s like I had, but I didn’t think he loved me. There are few people I’ve lost that I have truly mourned, and Trey is cutting the sharpest.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Raphael
“You need to get her out of here. I’ll deal with his body.”
I barely hear my cousin. All I can see is the woman I love breaking before me, stained with a man who loved her blood.
“Don’t dump it. She’s going to want to bury him respectfully.”
We were warned the path our prophecy led us down wouldn’t be pretty or easy. As I walk over to Mila, I can’t help but feel grateful I’m still alive, and that’s it’s Trey dead on the ground at my feet.
“Mila,” I murmur, clearing my throat. “Jamila!”
She doesn’t acknowledge me or even flinch. Bending down, I scoop her up in my arms and walk away from his body without any argument from her. I leave Cristian to clean up and walk the three streets back to the church. My car is parked behind the old building, and I block out the gunfire and yelling in the midst of the violence.
Placing her in the passenger seat, I strap her in and wordlessly, she stares at nothing while I climb in behind the wheel. So much blood, violence, and death have consumed our lives, so I’m not surprised she’s tipped over the edge by Trey death.
The farther away from the market square I drive, the quieter it becomes. Glancing across to Mila, her head rolls on the headrest as she stares out at Vita passing us by. She seems so small in the seat, but it’s her strength that makes her a mountain.
There’s not a single soldier in sight as I drive toward the house, and it’s the quietest I’ve ever heard the place when I cut the engine. For a second, I don’t move. I don’t speak. I breathe. Inhaling the life I still have and exhaling the past, I let it float away in the wind.
Climbing out, I go around to open her door. She doesn’t even look at me.
For now, I don’t care where she is mentally, because she’s physically here with me, and that’s all that matters.
Lifting her in my arms, I walk her into the house and up to my bathroom. Trey’s blood hits my nose as I put her down on her feet. Wobbling, she rights herself while I run her a bath, adding soap and bubbles, and anything I can get my hands on. Turning to her, I strip her out of her clothes and throw them behind me.
Her face is smeared with his blood, her hands stained with it. It’s even in her hair.
When the tub is halfway filled, I lift her into the tub where she pulls her knees up to her chest and finally looks at me. They’re full of pain. So much so, it reaches my heart and I look away.
Reaching for the sponge, I dunk it in the water and squeeze a couple of times before wiping the side of her face, allowing the soapy water to wash away the blood. There is so much I want to say, but she sits silently, letting me wash her without breathing a word.
We go through the motions of washing her hair, and I shampoo it twice before holding my hand out for her to step out of the tub. Drying her down, she only moves to hold my shoulders as I dry her legs.
Wrapping her up in my robe, I take hold of her hand and lead her into my bedroom where I sit her on the bed.
Over at the cabinet, I pour her a large whiskey and myself a double vodka. Throwing mine back, I take hers and kneel before her, spreading her legs so I can be closer to her.
She grips the glass and takes a small sip. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but he was… important to me.”
I’ve always known they were close. I didn’t like it, but I’m not going to make it worse for her by sharing tha
t I feel nothing over his death. However, I don’t like her in this position. If I had a bullet left in my gun at the time, I would’ve pulled the trigger myself and saved her the memory of having to do it herself.
“He knew what he was doing. But from this point on, you won’t lose anyone else,” I vow to her.
“All I have is you.”
“And I’m not going anywhere.”
A tear falls from her eye and I swipe it away so she doesn’t have to. This is all I want, to look after her, to be there in her time of need, to wipe away her tears, to catch every smile, to hear her laughing. The good, the bad, the painful—every moment spent with her is a moment I’ll cherish. They’re what I’ll live for. Fuck, I used to live for her threatening to kill me, so anything else is a given.
A knock at the door breaks the silence, and I turn to Cristian as he opens the door.
“The fight is over. We lost forty-seven men, and many are wounded. In the end, DiMarco’s men surrendered. What do you want me to do with them?”
Turning to Mila, I wait for her instruction. I’m hers to order; this is her call.
Personally, I’d have them all executed, but I already know she’ll choose a different path.
“Throw them out of the city. They have no reason to return. Make sure they cross the border and know what awaits them if they do choose to return.”
Cristian nods and closes the door as he leaves.
“Don’t ask me to do anything tonight. I’m tired, and I want to lie down.”
“Anything you need, my love.”
Standing, I strip down to my boxers and watch as she shuffles farther onto the bed and under the sheets. She doesn’t push me away as I climb in beside her and pull her up so she’s lying across my chest.
“Sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake.”
“I always knew he’d die for me, but I never thought it would be because of me.”
Her voice is small and faint.
Stroking her hair, I tell her, “Grieve for him, cry if you want, but it was him who put you in that position. I know what’s it like to rather be dead than live without you.”
She doesn’t reply, but her breathing starts to even out, and I continue to stroke her hair as she falls asleep.
A Dance of War Page 31