"Be well, Theo," I whisper.
I head to the apartment, and I start emptying it of my stuff. I contact a moving company and send everything to my spare apartment. I also decide to take Mally with me.
It takes me two full days to erase every trace of Bianca Ashby from Theodore Hastings’s life. After I'm done, I contact Vlad and ask for a favor.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Vlad asks a couple of days later, as we near the aircraft.
I nod, looking at the horizon that signifies my new future.
"You asked me once if what I feel towards Adrian is love. I guess it wasn't at that point... but I've learned since. Before, I loved Adrian because he was mine. He was my toy, and that made me happy. But I never once stopped to ask myself if it made him happy too. Later, I saw how my presence in his life affected him. I hurt him, but I never recognized just how much. It wasn't until I saw the light in his eyes die when he learned of Marcel's betrayal or that Jimenez was his biological father. I was so incensed on his behalf that only later did I realize I'd done the exact same to him. I'd lied and manipulated him, and I'd betrayed his trust.
Yes, I loved him, and I wanted him more than anything, but it was toxic. I know that now. Just how I know that I love him enough to give him a chance at true happiness. Without Jimenez, without the mob... without me.” I clench my hand on my carry-on. “I’m not normal, nor will I ever be. He deserves someone better. He deserves to be happy.”
“What about you?” Somehow a tear makes its way down my cheek at his question.
“I’ll survive. I always do. I’ll just do what I do best – kill.”
“I’ll miss you, B.” Vlad turns to me and takes me in his arms.
“We’ll be in touch… boss” I smile and pat his back.
“I hear Moscow is nice this time of the year.” He says wistfully.
“You can always visit.”
“I can… can’t I…” We stand in silence for a moment before taking my first step into the plane, leaving Vlad behind.
“Thank you, Vlad. For everything.”
CHAPTER XLVII
Three months later
I'm carefully cleaning my gun when my phone rings. I spare a glance and see that it's a message from Vlad.
I'd told him that I didn't want to know what was happening in New York, but he'd continued to send me links to different articles relating to the ongoing mafia war. It's not surprising that with tensions rising high, the situation had gotten out of control, and hysteria hit the streets. For all my reluctance to keep up with the times, I always caved in and checked the articles.
It's my damn curiosity.
At least Vlad had kept to himself any news of Adrian.
I can't say it's been easy so far. I think about him at least once every hour. But day by day, the pain of being separated from him has become more bearable.
The moment I'd landed in Moscow, I'd gone to the apartment that Vlad had helped set up for me. I'd then spent a couple of days just walking around, familiarizing myself with the new city.
Vlad had put me in contact with the Andropov family, one of Russia's most prominent crime families, and had recommended me for my skills. I'd gone for a meeting with their Pakhan, and we'd found ourselves establishing a comfortable partnership.
Of course, as any suspicious Russian leader, he'd tested me first, and it hadn't been entirely pleasant.
He'd sent me on an endurance mission to assassinate a renowned political figure. It had taken me two weeks to complete the task, but he'd been more than impressed with my results. He'd offered me an exclusivity contract on the spot. He'd initially wanted five years. I'd talked him down to one. I don't want to just settle. The world is my oyster at this point, right?
Whenever my thoughts would stray to Adrian, I’d just try to find something else to take my mind off him. One of the things that I’d started obsessing over had been tattoos.
Andropov had a few talented artists, and one of them had managed to turn to life my disjointed ideas into a wonderful tale. I’d gotten an entire sleeve on my left hand, spreading further onto my back. The tattooist had warned me against getting too many at once, but I’d needed the pain to keep going. He’d eventually relented after a few threats.
Starting from my hand, a bow spreads across my knuckles, with an arrow sticking out and extending towards my middle finger. Upwards on my arm are different scenes that depict the myth of Hero and Leander. I’d thought it entirely too appropriate since I could see my story with Adrian in them.
Both had been on opposite sides, never to be together naturally. But their love had tricked fate, and they’d enjoyed beautiful moments together as Hero swam towards Leander, guided by her torch. But like all love stories, it ended tragically when the light went out, and Hero was swept away by the waves. And so I’d failed to protect Adrian, and he’d been swept away from me by his memory loss.
In the original tale, Leander joins Hero in death. The finale of the rendition on my back is still a work in progress… yet I already know how it’s going to turn out.
I sigh, and I open the message. Another article. Great. Wonder who died now... Shaking my head, I put the phone down. I try to go back and continue cleaning my guns, but the curiosity is killing me. I eventually relent and open it. When I see the article's title, my eyes go wide, and I drop the phone.
NYPD Chief Commissioner Theodore Hastings was found dead, aged 34.
I blink once. Twice. I take the phone again and start reading, dread accumulating in the pit of my stomach.
NYPD Chief Commissioner Theodore Hastings was found dead; sources say. The hero who put an end to Jimenez's reign of terror had been suffering from a head injury that led to complications. NYPD and the Mayor's office have refused to comment on the issue.
The more I read, the more I feel like I'm losing my mind. It can't be right.
I try dialing Vlad, but he's not answering.
It can't be right.
I google Theodore Hastings, and a few other news sources come up with the same information.
Dead.
Head injury complications.
It is true.
I can't process this...
For what feels like forever, I sit on my apartment floor, staring at the walls. Flashes of Adrian inundate my mind. It's slow at first, like a fissure in a dam. But slowly, I'm flooded to the brim, and I can't help it, but my non-existent emotions spill over.
"No!" I yell, throwing my phone at the wall. I grab whatever's closest to me, and I throw it as well, smashing it to pieces. I repeat the action with everything in my path until my apartment is a pile of broken things, just like me.
Not being able to stand there one more minute, I grab my coat and head to Andropov's club.
I can't deal with this. It's too much... feeling.
The moment I get to the club, I make a beeline for the bar, and I order an entire bottle of Vodka. The bartender doesn't even bat an eye as he slides it in front of me, together with a shot glass.
I pour the first shot, and I down it. And then a second. And then a third. At some point, I lose count.
One of the Pakhan's bothers, Nikolai, spots me and makes his way towards me.
"Artemis." His eyes go to the Vodka bottle, and he frowns. "Rough night?"
"You could say." I slur my words.
"Come dance." He tugs on my hands and brings me to the dance floor. I don't know what I'm doing, my limbs just moving about. I thought that alcohol would help dull the pain. It doesn't.
"Make it stop!" I yell, my hands going to my ears. "Please, make everything stop."
Nikolai tilts his head and studies me, slowly withdrawing his wallet and fishing something out of it. It looks like a small tablet.
"Want this?" I try to squint my eyes to see what he's showing me, but it's kind of blurry at this point.
"What is it?"
"LSD."
"Will it numb the pain?"
"It may." He doesn't need to say anythi
ng else. I snatch it from his hand and put it in my mouth.
We keep dancing for a little longer, and I start feeling off. I can't even feel my limbs anymore.
I need to go home.
I don't know how I leave the club, how I walk home, or how I even know where home is. I have very few moments of awareness.
I just know that at some point, I'm back home. I fall on my bed, my eyes open. I start seeing this blue lace covering the walls. I'm so intrigued by it that I begin tracing the intricate design from one end of the wall to the other. My finger draws the form in the air, and I smile at the silliness of it. If only Adrian were alive.
As I'm tracing a lace thread, I suddenly stop when I feel something soft on my fingertip. I frown. I push once. So soft. I push again. And again. Until something grabs my finger.
"B?" The hallucinations have started, as I raise my eyes to look into Adrian's face. His beautiful, angelic face. He must be with the angels now, no? Maybe I'm communicating with him in heaven. My mouth drops open in awe at the realization.
Adrian... is an angel.
"You're an angel," I tell him, my hands going to his face, trying to feel him for the last time, even if it's under psychedelics' influence.
"You have wings." I point to the white, almost immaterial contour on his back.
"B? What's wrong with you?" His voice is worried as he furrows his brows.
"I'm talking with an angel." I keep on saying.
I jump on him and hug him to my chest, mumbling. "My angel."
That's the last thing I remember.
I stretch a little and groan out loud. What is this hangover? I swear I've never felt so ill from alcohol in my life. But then I suddenly remember Nikolai's tablet.
Shit... And then, more memories come flooding. And with them come the tears.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
My hands clench around the sheets on the bed, and I try to take a deep breath. When I do, I scrunch my nose, smelling food. Food? I don't have any food in my apartment.
My eyes snap open, and I jump out of bed. What if someone came inside while I was out of it? I take the gun I always have hidden under my pillow and go towards the kitchen. Inside, I spot something that makes me simply drop my weapon.
Am I still hallucinating?
Adrian is in my kitchen, wearing an apron, and making pancakes.
"There you are." He turns and gives me a smile. Mally is circling his legs, elegantly licking her paws, and purring against him.
I'm in motion before I can even think about it, jumping on him and hugging him.
"You're not dead?" I ask, peppering kisses on his face.
"No." He says, amused. "Theodore Hastings is dead. Adrian Barnett is very much alive." It takes me a solid minute to process what he's saying. But when understanding dawns on me, I push him off, and grabbing the fluffy pancakes off the table, I throw them at him.
"You made me believe you were dead, asshole?" I demand, and he crosses his arms.
"And you made me believe you were just a friend from work." He arches an eyebrow at me.
Ok, yeah, I did do that.
"When did you remember?"
"Not too long after you left." He admits, and I'm getting even angrier.
"And you waited until now to show up?"
"See here, Miss, you were the one who left me." He says indignantly.
"Only because I thought you might never remember, and I wanted you to never remember certain things." I try to defend myself. I also have to add.
"I do the only not selfish thing in my life, and you throw it in my face?"
Adrian chuckles. "Well, I think I like you better when you're selfish."
"Asshole," I mutter under my breath, but I can't help a little smile.
We sit down, and he manages to salvage some pancakes.
"How did you remember?"
"A few hours after you left, I started getting flashes of memories. I needed some time to come to terms with what had happened. Especially with Jimenez and Marcel... I thought you were also trying to give me space. But when you failed to show up, day after day, I looked for you. Vlad was very forthcoming, for once."
"That traitor."
"I would have come sooner, but I needed some time to set up everything for Theodore Hastings' death. I was supposed to get here before you saw the news, but my flight had severe delays." He recounts.
"So now you're just Adrian Barnett?"
"Yep, and all yours." He flutters his eyelashes at me the same way I used to do to him. "I'm unemployed now, though, so you'll have to support both of us. Think you can manage with a househusband?"
"For you, I'll make an exception." I tease. "Besides, we need to stay here for a year until my contract ends."
"And then?"
"Wherever life takes us."
He looks at me again, as he's always done in the past, with love. And I know he's mine.
EPILOGUE I
1 year later
I crouch on the floor, looking at the different wires making up Sylvester's security system. This job was supposed to be easy. In and out, they said.
But no one warned me about this damned security system.
Don't get me wrong. I've dealt with my fair share of security systems in my day, but none AI operated. Now, the only option is for me to shut this down from the source.
Damn you, Sylvester!
After cutting one of the wires, I watch the house descend into darkness. Now it’s just a race against time. I stand up, put the silencer on my Glock, and go in.
It isn't hard to find him, having enough intel on his habits by now. I go directly to his study where his computers and weapons are and wait there. Sure enough, it's minutes before he appears.
I hide in the shadows and bide my time. He's calm as he sits down on the chair and opens up a drawer, probably seeking his gun in case there is an intruder. Of course, just about now, he'll realize that there is no gun, having gotten rid of it earlier.
Two steps, and I'm behind him, the butt of my silencer at his temple.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Sylvester," I say in the voice I'd used to get close to him for a few weeks now. Just as I'm about to pull the trigger, my phone goes off.
I want to ignore it, but one glance at my watch and I see who it is.
I can't ignore this!
"Don't you dare move!" I command Sylvester and click on my ear comm to receive the call.
"Hey, babe," I answer while digging my gun into Sylvester's flesh. He can't seem to get the no moving thing.
"B, I need you." My husband says, and I sigh.
"Can't this wait?"
"Diana won't stop crying. I don't know what else to do. Please, please help." He pleads with me, and I have to acquiesce.
"Put it on speaker," I say, and when he grunts in confirmation, I start singing:
Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright...
It isn't long before I hear Diana's soft breath through the phone.
"You're my savior, sweetheart," Adrian whispers. "See you at home."
I hang up and redirect my attention towards Sylvester, surprised to see the amusement on his face.
"Are you laughing at me?" I feel compelled to ask, not understanding why I care.
"S…Sorry." He mutters.
I have to admit, I'm the worst singer ever. But Diana doesn't think so.
In fact, she can only fall asleep to my awful singing voice. Shaking my head, I reposition the gun at Sylvester's head and pull the trigger. As he falls back into his seat, I'm pleased with myself because the angle I'd shot him at meant I only got little residual blood on me.
My job is done; I remove all traces of myself from his home and go back to mine.
I put Diana back in her crib, but not before kissing her brow. She's only three months old, but I can already tell she will look like her mother in the future. I watch her for a minute, smiling at her small form before closing the room and heading to the kitchen.
&nbs
p; Bianca should be home any time now, and she'll probably be hungry. I quickly start putting something together.
Diana had been a welcome surprise, even though she'd been unplanned. I'd been a little worried about how Bianca would react to a baby, but she'd been game.
The most unexpected thing had been after the birth when the doctor had put Diana on Bianca's chest. B had taken one look at her, and she'd declared Mine. At that moment, all my fears had been alleviated. I knew then and there that Bianca would love that baby girl with her whole heart, just as I do.
It certainly hasn't been easy, especially since Bianca's had to honor her contract with Andropov. But this one is her last mission.
I hear the door open, and I go to greet her. When she sees me, her mouth stretches into a smile, and she drops her weapon case and comes flying into my arms.
"Was it a hard one?" I ask as I kiss her nose. She shakes her head.
"Am I that bad of a singer?" She asks as if she doesn't already know the answer.
"B, as much as I love you... affirmative."
"That fucker, Sylvester dared to laugh at my singing." She pouts, and I give her a quick kiss.
"Is someone's ego bruised?" I tease, and she playfully smacks my shoulder.
"Want me to make it better?" Her eyes widen suggestively, and she doesn't waste time in making a grab for my shirt. We are locked into a fierce domination competition, as it usually happens when we get to it when suddenly we hear a wail.
Diana.
"At least someone loves your singing." I put her down and send her to Diana's room for a private performance. She gives me a look but compiles.
I go back to finish the meal, stopping by my impressive collection of earplugs and grabbing a pair.
One thing's for sure. Life's never boring with Bianca.
THE END
(or is it?)
EPILOGUE II
I've been sitting at Tino's grave for what seems like forever. Ten years... I hadn't seen him in ten years. And now he's dead.
Morally Corrupt: A Dark Romance (Morally Questionable Book 1) Page 35