The painting of the fallen angel catches my attention as I lull myself into relaxation while holding Mila in my arms. I once told her he first landed in Vita, hence why it’s such a wicked place to be. Yet lying here tonight, with her, I’d go through all the wickedness of Hell just to spend my nights like this. Closing my eyes, I think of the future. I don’t believe it’ll always easy between us going forward. Like she said before, we’ll probably still fight, but I crave it because nothing will ever rip us apart again. Also, I would never want her to change.
We’ve both changed in different ways, but the one thing that will remain the same is our love.
“The prophecy everyone waited for has finally been fulfilled.”
I snap my eyes open to find her looking up at me, her eyes rimmed in red, but not filled with so much pain.
“Father Luke was right all along,” I whisper.
“It wasn’t just us, though. Everyone fought for Vita.”
“And everyone will reap the rewards,” I promise.
Stretching out, she sits up and adjusts the robe that’s come undone. “At the moment, it doesn’t seem right to be happy, but I can’t help it. I’ve lost dear friends of mine, and you’ve lost your brother. So many men—so, so many—have lost their lives. Yet I’m thankful, and I’m exactly where I’ve always wanted to be, with you, having a future full of possibilities laid out in front of us for the taking.”
Her sadness shines brighter than the sun, but I lean forward and cup my hand around the back of her neck, pulling her toward me.
“All the pain and loss, as much as it hurts, is behind us. We knew all those years ago that fulfilling the prophecy wouldn’t be easy. We knew we were fighting for us as well as for Vita. I would risk everyone’s lives for yours, Mila, and I mean everyone’s.”
Her gasp sparks life into her eyes.
“You used to think of me as someone who craved peace, to do things differently than our fathers, but what I always kept from you was that I was prepared to do anything, good or evil, to have and keep you.”
“Raphe—”
“Marry me, Mila. Not because of the prophecy, but because you love me and need me every day of forever, and longer still. I’ll be a good husband to you, and I won’t ever put myself before you. Until my dying breath, I will love you, and always need you more than life itself.”
Resting my forehead against hers, I can feel her warm breath against me.
“Be my wife. I want us united before God, tied together in every way possible.”
“Yes.”
Her answer is barely audible, but a whisper is all I need. Slamming my lips onto hers, our teeth clack, but I can’t stop kissing her, wanting her to feel how much this moment means to me. I’ll make all the promises in the world and spend the rest of my life fulfilling them. If there’s one thing I was put on this earth to do, it’s to make this woman of mine the happiest she’ll ever be.
Chapter Fifty
Jamila
Music. It’s faint, far off in the distance, but it’s loud enough to wake me. Stretching my back and legs, my entire body feels relaxed as I watch the curtains billow in the breeze thanks to the open balcony doors.
Peace. It’s the stuff that dreams are made of, but is now a reality.
Reality.
Trey.
Slipping out from under the sheets, Raphael’s soft snores go undisturbed, and I step out onto the balcony. It’s the first morning in a long time I can’t hear gunfire.
Through all the dark times in Vita, the people knew how to party. Judging by the music being played off in the distance, people are already celebrating.
Gripping onto the balcony railing, I try to catch my breath. Trey hitting the floor, bleeding out, dying—it all floods my mind, making me gasp. Why did he have to push me into killing him? Our lives were changing irrevocably as we all stood there, guns raised, and what for? He’s not here anymore to reap the benefits of this war finally ending.
Strong arms snake around my waist from behind, Raphael’s warmth pressing against my back. Brushing his lips over my skin, I tilt my head to give him better access to my neck. Goose bumps dance along my skin as I grip onto his arms wrapped over my stomach.
“Good morning,” he murmurs, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“Good morning.”
“How are you feeling?”
It’s a broad question. Physically, I feel fine. Mentally, I’m drained.
“It’s going to take some getting used to not seeing Trey around.”
“I didn’t wish to see him dead.” I find that hard to believe. “But as harsh as it sounds, it is what it is.”
I sigh. I don’t expect Raphael to be cut up over Trey, being he was an enemy for so long. And then the jealousy over him because of our relationship outside of work.
Turning in his arms, I place my hands on his bare chest and close my eyes. This is real. We’re alive, and life moves forward whether we try to hold onto the past or not. The two of us have lived with the history weighing us down for so long, it’s time, no matter who we’ve lost, to live for ourselves.
“Let’s start with breakfast,” I suggest.
His lips, warm and soft, press all too briefly against mine before he’s disappearing through the curtains. With one last look over the city, I smile, excited to see what today brings.
I dress while Raphael showers, and I don’t bother with make-up. Leaving my hair down, I head to the kitchen to find Cristian already sitting at the table with a spread laid out fit for a king. In less than twenty-four hours, life is already returning to normal. Well, our new normal.
“Where’s Raphael?” he asks.
“He’ll be down in a minute.”
“Are you okay?” His sincerity almost knocks me over.
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
“I took his body to the coroner’s office. Raphael said you’d want to bury him yourself.”
Inhaling, I nod, unable to speak a word. It’s the least Trey deserves. He should and will be buried in the Camarco plot, and I’ll see that his memory lives on.
“I suppose we’ll expect to see you around more often now?”
Sienna pulls out the chair opposite of me and pours herself a coffee. This woman is going to be my family.
“Considering she agreed to marry me, she’ll be around all the time.”
We all look to Raphael blowing into the room, dressed finely in a navy-blue suit and the top three buttons of his crisp white shirt undone. His hair is back to being styled, and the waft of his dark and heady cologne fills the air around us.
Pulling out the chair next to mine, he helps himself to the toast, buttering himself a slice.
“You’re free to return to Paris, little sister.”
I don’t know much about their relationship. When we were younger, he rarely spoke of her. And after were ripped apart with lies and murder, he had her moved out of the city. It’s about time we reassess what family means. Neither of us have had the conventional set-up, but it’s about time we did. It’s better late than never, or so people say.
“Perhaps you could stay long enough to see us married?” I suggest.
I’m the last remaining Camarco, and Raphael only has his cousin and sister to call family. It’ll be nice if they were both there.
“Planning on a wedding soon, then?” Sienna asks, sipping her coffee.
I smile. “By the end of the month, actually.”
That gives us three weeks to put everything together.
Grinning, Raphael’s hand slides over my thigh. I didn’t need to ask him when he wished to get married, being that the sooner the better is what we want.
“Will you have enough time? There’s a lot to settle in the city first,” Cristian advises.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine. Speaking of which, we should head out and assess the damage.”
Raphael drops his crusts onto the plate and finishes his coffee.
“Maybe I’d have a reason to stay if I
was elected mayor?” Sienna purrs with a wicked smile on her face.
“Who said we want you to have a reason to stay?” Cristian throws at her in jest.
I’m already shaking my head. “The mayor has to be neutral.”
Plus, I already have someone in mind. Not for my future benefit, but because I truly believe they’ll make the right calls for the benefit of Vita.
“We rebuild, we get married, we live our lives,” Raphael declares, beaming.
Shop windows are boarded up, the pavement soaked with blood. Broken glass and burnt-out cars line the streets. If you look carefully enough, the twinkle of bullet shells reflect under the midday sun. Volunteers are sweeping up the market square, with children laughing and playing around them. By tomorrow, market stalls will be back in business. And the day after that, and after that, everything that has happened before now will be memories turned into legends. Stories will be told to children, who will tell their children, and so on. The fight for Vita will be the ultimate myth, but everyone here for it will know how we fought for our lives and for this city with fierce dedication.
“Pull over,” I instruct Raphael.
When the car stops, I climb out and walk over to the cleaning cart someone has pushed out here—from where, I don’t know—and I grab the broom leaning against it.
Smiling to everyone around me, I join in and sweep the steps surrounding the fountain.
Lips are locked tight as we work. Only Raphael’s voice can be heard as he makes calls for painters to fix up the fountain and shop fronts. He puts calls into glass companies to fix up the broken windows, then another call to fix another thing, arranging for all the outside help needed, but his eyes are always on me.
“I regret my decision not to fight with you. I’m sorry.”
Wiping the sweat from my brow, I turn to find the locksmith who showed up at Raphael’s the other day.
“I’m man enough to admit I was a coward. I should’ve had faith in you.”
“You’re no coward. Cowards don’t apologise. Not that you have anything to apologise for, sir.”
His regret burns in his heart, and he tips his head. “You promised you’d get my business back, and you’ve delivered. If there is anything you ever need, you only need to call on me. I won’t let you down again.”
He turns to leave when an idea hits me.
“Hey, I need something.”
“Whatever you need.”
“When you were faced with two sides, you chose neither. You stood your ground to stay who you are. Our city is going to need a new mayor. The Marocchi’s, nor myself will have any part in the process, but you should run.”
“Oh.” First, shock ripples through him, and then self-doubt. “No, no, I know nothing about being the mayor.”
“This is a new day for everyone. We don’t need someone doing things like previous men in that position. Think about it.”
He doesn’t reply, and I go back to sweeping broken glass and trash as he walks away. As the last bag of trash is thrown onto the trash wagon, the square begins filling with people; the atmosphere brimming with excitement and joy.
Raphael shoves his phone in his pocket and says, “They want to hear from you.”
“Really?”
Nodding, he pushes me forward and calls for everyone’s attention. The crowd quietens and I take a deep breath.
“Yesterday, many of us stood in this market square and we fought, not just for ourselves, but for everyone in Vita. Twenty-eight years ago, Father Luke spoke of a prophecy that would bring peace to this city. You have all waited and hoped. You’ve prayed for that peace, and you lost faith because of the actions of myself and the Marocchi’s. As we opened our eyes this morning, we awoke to that peace. No longer will you lose members of your families because of two families’ hatred for one another. No longer will you be asked to fight a war that should’ve ended a long, long time ago. Today is the last day we wash away blood from our streets. As we rebuild our city, there will be job opportunities, housing built, and there will be help for families affected by this war.”
Cheers thunder through the crowd, and Raphael steps up beside me. Taking my hand in his, I smile along with him at a future that’s never been so clear.
Our actions have had devastating results, but it’s our promise going forward that we will be remembered for.
I’ll make sure of it.
“This housing offer, where do you intend on building?” Raphael asks under his breath.
Turning to him, I inhale deeply and continue to look to a new Vita.
“It’s time we create a home of our own. I won’t give up my estate to live in your house, and you wouldn’t either. It’s time we made our own legacy. Our houses will be torn down and we’ll build on our lands.”
It’s an idea we’d thrown around before.
“That’s a lot of history.”
“History we will never be able to rewrite. But in time, a history we can change going forward. Are you with me?”
His grin is all I need. “Always.”
The crowd parts, and a nurse from the nursing home pushes Father Luke through in his wheelchair.
Raphael releases my hand as I walk down the steps, stopping before him,
his smile triumphant
“Hand in hand, they will rise, and you most definitely did,” he boasts.
Shifting in his chair, he looks up to his nurse. Digging around in her pocket, she reaches out and drops something in his hand.
“A long time ago, you gave me something to hold on to. It was only meant to be for a few days, but it turned into years. These belong to you. I have a feeling you’re going to need them.”
Reaching for my hand, he turns it over and drops two rings onto my palm. They’re the rings we planned to give each other on our eighteenth birthdays.
“I forgot all about them.”
“Raphael didn’t. He asked me to keep them safe, believing you would need them one day, whenever that day would be.”
Raphael stands just behind me, and I can’t express how much I love him. He vowed so many times to end me, but like me, he could never give the final order.
There was a time I set out to destroy Raphael Marocchi, but it was because of my heart that I failed again and again.
Epilogue
Raphael
“You’re finally getting what you want, Cousin.”
Cristian, my best man, sits across from me on our way to the church.
I can’t help but smile. “It’s about time, isn’t it?”
“Sure is.”
This day couldn’t have come fast enough for me. I was over the fucking moon when Mila said she wanted to plan our wedding as soon as possible. The prophecy said we’d rise hand in hand, and today we’ll tie ourselves to each other before everyone. Today, love triumphs hate, and light will shine in every dark corner. Vita has hope once again, and it’s giving life to the city like we’ve never seen before.
People greet me as I climb out of the car and walk into the church to greet every single person in return. The fight for control over Vita is over, and as I take my place at the altar, I can’t help but let the nerves attack me from every angle. So many nights I dreamt of this moment, only to have my bride crumble to ash at my feet.
The choir sings softly, and the candles flicker their small flames all around the church, decorated with black and red roses. The doors open, and there she stands, every inch of her clad in ivory silk and lace. The veil I dreamed about covers her face, yet I can still see her dark, stunning eyes. Our guests, the people of Vita, stand with those lined around the edges of the church while the harpist begins a melody Mila chose. Whispers of her beauty echo around me. But me, I’m struggling to remember that we’re not the only two in the room as she begins her walk down the aisle toward me.
We once planned to marry in this very church with Father Luke officiating, and two sisters we’d never met before for our witnesses. But having the people of Vita here to witness our
union is so much better.
“You’re a lucky son of a bitch. She thought you were trying to kill her for a decade, and here she is, stunning, and about to become your wife,” Cristian murmurs.
It could be luck, but I’d like to think it’s destiny, that we were always going to be standing here. We were born on the same night, at the same time, because we were destined not only to bring peace, but to share a love so great, it’s not worth living without it.
The harpist slowly finishes her piece as Mila stops before me. My throat clogs with emotion as I step forward and lift her veil, her beauty achingly bestowing me.
She beams at me. “This is it.”
“Please. This is only the beginning.”
She doesn’t turn to ash, and just like that, all my nightmares are a thing of the past. I, Raphael Marocchi, takes this woman to be my wife, my lover, my fucking everything. Even on days when she might threaten to end my life—because I’ll no doubt piss her off—and on days she needs me to simply hold her. Eternity wouldn’t be enough with her, but I’ll settle for my forever.
* * *
Jamila
The reception is long past due to be over, but our guests are nowhere near finished celebrating. It’s been a long day, and as I look down at my wedding band, I can’t help but yawn.
“I’ve been wanting to get you home for hours, but I’m not taking no for an answer any longer.”
For once, I’m not going to argue with my husband. My chest heaves with emotion. My husband. Two words I long ago learned to dissociate with Raphael.
We’re able to quietly and discreetly slip out of the hotel, and Raphael helps me bunch up my dress so I can climb into the car without tearing the silk and lace.
Our driver takes us to the new home we moved into last week, and I don’t even care that there are still boxes all over the place. Raphael has stayed close since the ceremony, and even closer during the reception. Of course I didn’t mind, needing him just as close to me. There have been so many obstacles thrown in front of us, and because we fought through them all, this day is that much sweeter.
A Dance of War Page 32