by L. P. Dover
He rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. “What the hell is it going to take for you to forgive me? We all make mistakes.” He said it so flippantly, like killing innocent people wasn’t a big deal. “Just tell me who the goddamn shooter was so I can deal with them accordingly. The last thing I need is a fucking lecture from you on how to handle my business.”
“You’re right, you don’t,” I agreed, feeling the anger well up in my chest. “And you also don’t need my forgiveness. I can’t say the same for others though.” I looked up at Bryce, and he nodded for me to continue. “If you want to know who the shooter is,” I said, glancing back and forth from my father to Dominic, “they’re in this room.”
They both stared at me, taken aback by my words. Dominic chuckled and shook his head. “Layla, what are you talking about? All of us were at the gala.”
“Not all of us,” I murmured sadly, keeping my focus on him and my father. The secret panel opened, and my mother joined my side, looking like an avenging angel. My father’s face paled, and my brother stumbled back as if he’d seen a ghost. I could tell my mother wanted to run to him, but she stayed with me.
“Hello, Dom,” she said, but then she turned to my father, who grew angrier by the second. “Surprised, Anthony? Guess you never thought you’d see me again.”
He glared at her. “What the fuck is this? How are you still alive?”
The tension in the room skyrocketed. My mother glared right back at him. “No thanks to you. I’m the one who killed Julian and Adrian that night at the gala. I wanted you to get a taste of what it was going to be like when I came back for you.”
Shivers ran down my spine. Dominic stepped closer, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breaths. “I don’t understand. How are you here?”
Her gaze saddened when she looked over at him, but I was the one who answered. “Dad wanted her dead,” I told him, keeping my attention on my father. “After he blew up that restaurant, killing all those innocent people, Mom wanted to leave him. Dear ol’ daddy couldn’t stand for that. She would either be his or no one’s at all. When she found out his plan, she faked her own death. Then recently, I found out that he was going to dabble in human trafficking with Tony Greco.” The thought sickened me to the core, and I made sure my father could see the disgust on my face. “It’s a good thing Bryce managed to get rid of him before you could fuck up even more.”
Dominic’s face reddened, and his hands shook as he turned his venomous glare toward my father. “Tell me that’s not true.”
My father scoffed. “It’s lies, all of it.”
“It’s the truth,” a voice called out from behind the secret panel. Dominic froze, but when my father saw Michael, his eyes flashed with rage. It felt like at any minute everything was going to explode.
“You!” my father snarled. “How dare you turn your back on your own family. Don’t think for a second I didn’t notice the way you looked at my wife. I should’ve killed you a long time ago.”
Michael stepped up to my mother’s side. “Or maybe I should’ve killed you. It’s over either way, brother. The FBI are almost here, and you’re about to go to prison, with Roger, James, and Sheriff Moneta. You’re done.”
Dominic rushed over to the window and peered out. “He’s right. They’re here.”
Then it was as if everything moved in slow motion, but also too quickly. It was one of those moments where sound didn’t seem to exist, but you knew there were screams and shouts all around you. Dominic had his back to my father, giving my father easy access to his holstered gun. The second he lunged for it, Bryce pushed me to the floor, and moved so fast I didn’t even see him draw his gun. My mother and Michael both reached for theirs, but my father already had his on Michael. The shot echoed through the room, and I screamed, only it wasn’t my father who shot Michael. Bryce had gotten my father with a clear shot to the arm, who in return dropped the gun. Blood soaking through his shirt, my father stumbled into the wall and grabbed his injured arm.
Bryce helped me up, and I clutched him hard around the waist. I could barely see through my tears. He kissed the top of my head. “I had to do it.”
I looked over at my father, who was grunting in pain from his wound. Dominic rushed over to my mother, and they both cried in each other’s arms. For a moment, I thought it was all over, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. A boom sounded from downstairs, followed by thundering footsteps throughout the house. My father’s eyes widened in fear, and he lunged for his desk.
“Bryce!” I shouted. But it was too late. My father had found another gun, and held it to his own head. “Dad, no,” I cried, holding up my hands. “Don’t do this.”
Dominic slowly stepped around the desk, but my father looked like a wild man. “I refuse to go to prison.” He slid his finger over the trigger.
Dominic was only about five feet away from him. “Dad, don’t.”
My father didn’t listen to him at all. He stared right at me, and a tear fell down his cheek. “I’m sorry, cara mia.” Those were the last words he said before the gun went off. My heart stopped, and I dropped to my knees. Bryce picked me up and rushed me out of the room, but it was too late. I’d seen it all, and it’d be forever ingrained in my mind.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Bryce
The FBI had combed the house and found everything they needed to incriminate Roger and James Corsino. They weren’t able to pin anything on Marco, Isaiah, or Dominic, but they were brought in for questioning. My mission was complete, and I’d witnessed the destruction of a powerful family. Reporters had been camping out at the estate gate, hoping to get a glimpse of the Corsino family, but I’d gotten Layla out before they could find her. Now we were at our farm, safe, and away from that clusterfuck.
I stayed in the bedroom, holding Layla in my arms until she fell asleep. As soon as she was out, I slid off the bed, and shut the bedroom door quietly behind me. The smell of fresh-brewed coffee filled the air, and I could hear Madeline and Michael talking in the kitchen. When I walked in, they were sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, waiting for me.
“Did she get to sleep okay?” Madeline asked.
I sat down across from them. “She’s exhausted. Hopefully, she’ll sleep through the night.”
Michael placed a hand over Madeline’s. “It’s been a long day. We should probably head out soon. I’m sure Dominic is dying to talk to you.” Once the FBI came, they took Dominic away for questioning, and then afterward made his way to Madeline’s house. Francis and his partner were going to stay at her house, as well, until they could find another place to live.
Madeline nodded and patted his hand. “In a minute. I want to talk to Bryce. If that’s okay?” she asked, meeting my gaze.
“It’s fine,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee. Sleep wasn’t going to come to me anytime soon.
Michael left the room, and then Madeline focused on me. “Peter has told me a lot about you. I have to say, you’re a little different than I imagined.”
“Is that good or bad?”
She chuckled. “Good. He said you were a hard-ass that took your job seriously. In my mind, I envisioned a grumpy bastard who didn’t know how to smile.” She looked down at her coffee cup and smiled. “But then I saw you at the gala with Layla. I’ve never seen her look at a man the way she looked at you. She was always good at reading people.” Her eyes met mine. “It wasn’t until I saw how you got her away from Julian that I realized you had feelings for her too.”
Groaning, I ran a hand through my hair. “Trust me, I tried to keep my distance. She made it so fucking hard. The last thing I wanted was to see her near that cocksucker.”
“I thank you for that. It was agony watching her life from afar. All I wanted was to be there for her.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she sighed. “I was afraid she wouldn’t forgive me. I basically left her in a prison for two years.”
I shook my head. “She’s just happy to have you back. I’d give any
thing to see my mother again.”
She placed a hand over mine. “You and Layla always have me,” she said, patting my hand. It was strange, but in a way, she reminded me of my mother. “Have you called your family yet?”
I took another sip of coffee, and sighed. “No. I’m sure they’ve seen the news.”
She nodded. “Most likely. I bet they’ll be happy to see you again though.”
“I hope so.” The thought made me smile. I missed my family, but I wasn’t the same as I was before I left. My life was completely different.
Madeline’s brows furrowed. “What is it?”
I shrugged. “So many things have changed. I’ve been gone for over a year, but I can’t just up and leave Layla to go back home. She has you here, and I know she’s not going to want to leave.”
She placed a hand over mine. “Don’t you worry about that. Wherever you and Layla go, I’ll follow. If being in Wyoming is where you want to be, I’ll be happy there too.” A small smile spread across her face. “Speaking of the future, I have something I want to give you.”
The twinkle in her eye had me curious. “And that would be?”
Her grin widened. “I’ll drop it off first thing in the morning. You’ll know what to do with it.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Layla
Several days had passed, but the situation around my father’s death had perpetuated a media explosion. It was in the newspapers, on the radio, and on every single news station you could imagine. Suspected Mob Boss Dead by Suicide. There was no escaping it. Roger and James had been captured and were awaiting trial. My mother and Michael decided to keep their deaths permanent and live their lives under different names. I felt bad for Michael’s ex wife and daughter, but he said they were better off without him. I hadn’t seen them in years, but Michael said he’d left them everything he owned.
It was probably a good thing. They were safe and far away from the shitstorm right now. The only place I was safe from the media mob was at my house. Charger had finally arrived, and even though it’d rained the past two days, Bryce and I made sure to spend plenty of time with him to get him adjusted to his new home. Today, however, the sun was out, and we couldn’t have asked for a more perfect first day of summer. I decided to spend it with Charger and give him a tour of our land.
“Layla!” Bryce shouted.
I finished brushing Charger’s midnight-colored coat and patted his back. “In here!” I shouted, hoping Bryce could hear me all the way in the barn.
Charger whinnied, and I kissed his snout. “He’s coming. I know you love him more than me.” Whinnying again, he huffed, and it made me laugh. “Just kidding. I know you love me more.”
Bryce walked into the barn, pursing his lips at Charger. “I heard that. Who would’ve thought my horse would turn on me?”
I patted Charger’s neck. “Hey, he couldn’t resist.”
Bryce smiled, and pulled me into his arms. “I know how that feels. You up for a walk?”
“Sure. I was just about to head out to the pond.”
Charger huffed and stomped his foot, which made Bryce chuckle. “Sorry, buddy. This one’s without you.”
Bryce took my hand, and I blew a kiss at Charger. “He’s going to be so mad at you.”
He waved a hand dismissively in the air. “He’ll get over it.” We walked out the back of the barn and into the wide-open field. You couldn’t see the pond from the house, but it was just through the trees. The ground squished underneath our feet from the recent rain, and I loved the earthy smell of it all. Bryce squeezed my hand and looked down at me. “I talked to my father.”
That was good news. “It’s about time. I know he’ll be happy to see you again.”
He nodded. “Yeah, he will. He definitely wants to meet you.”
The thought made me nervous. “What if he doesn’t like me?”
We made it to the pond, and he wrapped his arms around my waist. “Not gonna happen.”
Hopefully, he was right. Taking a deep breath, I gazed out at the water, and held onto his arms as he held me. There were flowers all around the pond, all in different shades and colors, with butterflies flying this way and that. “This place is so beautiful,” I said, turning my attention back to Bryce.
“It is,” he agreed. “That’s why I wanted to bring you here so we could talk.”
His expression turned serious, and my heart stopped. “Everything okay?”
Nodding quickly, he slid his arms from my waist, and grabbed my hands. “You know who I am and what I am, right?” At first, I thought he was just trying to be funny, but there was nothing humorous about the look on his face.
“Is this a trick question?” I asked.
He rolled his eyes, and there was a hint of a smile. “Just answer the question, smartass.”
That made me laugh. “Okay, okay. Yes, I know who and what you are. You’re Bryce Chandler, hardcore assassin for the Circle of Justice.” I waited for him to speak, but all he did was stare at me. “What? Did I get it wrong?” I teased, trying to make light of the answer.
“You are seriously going to be the death of me.”
I smacked his arm. “You’re the one being all cryptic. What’s going on?” Taking a deep breath, he looked right into my eyes and slowly bent down on his knee. Even though it was warm outside, my body lit up with goose bumps, and my eyes started to burn.
“Remember the night I told you that when the time comes for you to know everything, if you still want to be with me, I’d be happy to marry you?”
My breath hitched, and I nodded. Was this really happening? “Yes,” I whispered. “You said you didn’t want to be with anyone else, only me.”
He slid a hand into his pocket and pulled out a shimmering radiant-cut yellow diamond ring that I recognized all too well. Gasping, I slapped a hand over my mouth. The ring belonged to my grandmother, and my grandmother before her, and so on. “Oh my God. How …”
Bryce held the ring up. “Your mother gave it to me a couple days ago. I’d planned on getting you one myself, but she insisted. She said it’s been passed down through the Petrova line.”
Tears sprung to my eyes. “It has. I thought the ring was lost. My mother always told me it’d be given to me at the right time.” All I wanted was to hear the words from his lips.
Bryce took my hand and kissed it. “I can’t promise I won’t be an ass at times, and I can’t promise that I won’t piss you off, but I can promise you this: I love you, and I will spend the rest of my life protecting you and our family. Nothing else matters as much as you.” He slid the ring down my finger. “Layla Madison Corsino, will you marry me?”
So many emotions swirled through my body, and it felt like I’d explode from them all. I was never going to forget that moment for as long as I lived. “Yes!” I shouted, flinging my arms around his neck. “Oh, my God, yes!”
I crashed into him so hard that he fell over, and I with him…right into a pile of mud. Bryce chuckled and pulled me on top of him, not even caring that he was covered in filth. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
Giggling, I kissed him. “At least, we have a good engagement story to tell, if people ask.” He agreed with a nod. I lifted my hand, and the sapphire glistened. “So when do you want to do this?” I asked.
Bryce grabbed my arms, and pulled me closer. “I’d marry you right now. Tomorrow. The next day. It doesn’t matter. I’m ready whenever you are.”
I could see the truth in his eyes. “Next weekend then. We can have the wedding here. It’ll be perfect.”
His brows furrowed. “Don’t you want a big wedding?”
Shaking my head, I leaned down and kissed him. “Just having you is enough. Besides, the best part is the honeymoon. A couple months in the Turks and Caicos will be perfect.”
He nodded. “Next weekend it is, then. You’ll officially be Layla Chandler.”
Grinning wide, I repeated the name over and over in my head. I liked the name when I used it in h
iding, but I loved it even more now.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Layla
The day I thought would never happen had finally come. I’d stopped fantasizing about my wedding day a long time ago, when I realized how complicated my life was. I never thought I’d get to the point where I was so full of happiness I couldn’t even contain it all. My cheeks already hurt from smiling too much.
“Layla, stop staring at your future hubby and come over here. I have to finish your hair.”
Giggling, I took one last look out of my bedroom window at Bryce and shut the blinds. He was already outside, standing by the flower-covered gazebo with his father, Michael, Peter, Penelope, Francis, and a pastor my mother had called in. My mother had taken it upon herself to plan everything for my wedding, and I didn’t complain one bit. Everything was simple and elegant, from the flowers to the red velvet wedding cake I had Francis make. The only thing I had not seen was my wedding dress. My mother had picked it out, and was on her way with it.
Faith cleared her throat. “I’m waiting.”
I peeked out the window again and laughed. “Okay, okay. I’m coming.”
Curling iron in hand, she waved me over and patted the chair at my vanity table. “I have ten minutes to finish curling your hair and put it up.”
I smiled at her through the reflection in my vanity mirror. She had her caramel-colored hair down in beachy waves and wearing an off-the-shoulder, light blue, silky gown that touched the floor. “I have faith in you, Faith,” I teased.
She playfully rolled her eyes and curled the last of my hair. “You better.” Once she was done putting my hair up in a bundle of curls, she slid a crystal blue butterfly hairpin into my hair. “Something blue.”
I held up my hand to show off the Petrova ring. “Something old,” I said. Then I pointed over at the white sandals on the floor. “And something borrowed. They’re my mother’s.”
Faith sat down on my bed. “It was so strange seeing your mother again.”