Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
I swallow hard, a sting in my eyes I don’t want to acknowledge.
I’ve lived with this wound inside me for so long, I’d convinced myself it didn’t have power over me anymore. But that’s a lie. Every time I leave the island, I hear my father’s voice in my head, reminding me I’m incarcerated—and I have a life sentence.
I’m not supposed to want anything more.
“I’m not leaving until you read it,” Angelo tells me.
I let him think I don’t know what he’s doing, giving me that final push. He knows how fucking stubborn I am, and he’s giving me an out, like it’s not really my decision.
I snatch the letter from the coffee table, a tremor shooting down my arm as I tear it open. I’m not sure I even intend to read it, but my eyes move over the first line…and then they keep going.
Romeo,
You know I’m not a man of many words, and I suppose that’s one thing I passed down to you. But I’d like to share a few with you now, in the hopes that you’ll take them to heart and let them free you from the chains I gave you.
There are few things I regret in my life. My sins are many, but I always prided myself on being a good husband and father, even if I wasn’t a good man. That may have been the case with my other children, but I can’t go to my grave without acknowledging that I failed you.
When I brought you home, I convinced myself that if I gave you a purpose, it would be enough. It was a selfish act that I mistook for strength.
I let you believe that the world wasn’t safe from you, but in truth, I didn’t think it was safe for you. I couldn’t control what happened to you off the island, and I couldn’t promise your mother that if you left, you wouldn’t end your life.
I wanted to protect you, but instead, I created a prison you could never leave.
As I prepare to depart this world, I can see clearly the mistakes I made. It’s too late for me to fix them, but it’s not too late for you. You’ve lived in the shadows of my decisions for too long, and I don’t want those fears to be your inheritance.
Let the boundaries and beliefs I gave you die with me.
Live on your own terms, and build the life you were denied. This is what I want for you.
And someday, if you can, find a way to forgive me.
Ti lascio solo la verità.
Papà.
Pressure builds behind my eyes as I stare at that letter, long past the point of reading it. Emotions are a motherfucker, and I’ve always prided myself on being untouched by such a human affliction. But this—it’s a different beast.
“Well?” Angelo prompts, reminding me that he’s still here.
I hand him the letter so he can read it himself. When he’s finished, he returns it to the table.
“He’s right, you know.”
When I don’t respond, he sighs.
“Do you want Gabriela to be happy?”
My gaze drops to the floor as the memory of our last conversation resurfaces. I’ve never felt like more of an asshole than I did that day.
“It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Well, you’re doing a great job of it. You’re both fucking miserable.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I mutter.
“You’ve been with her every night, and nothing has happened,” he says. “Are you going to let this fear control the rest of your life?”
I scrape a hand over my face, trying to wipe away this terminal exhaustion. I’m so fucking tired of this war, but I don’t know how to let it go.
“Do you want to lose her?” Angelo asks.
“What do you think?”
“I think you’re about to if you don’t fix this.”
I meet his gaze, hating the certainty I see there. “Did she tell you that?”
“She didn’t have to. I saw it for myself.”
His phone rings, and he drags it from his pocket. Before he answers, he delivers one final blow.
“Figure it out, Romeo. Either you claim her, or you can watch someone else give her what you wouldn’t.”
“They’re on their way back.” Angelo gestures for me. “Come down for a minute and get some fresh air. It will be good for you.”
I drag my ass off the lounge, not for fresh air, but because I won’t relax until Gabi’s safe at the penthouse.
We take the elevator down to the parking garage and wait for the women to arrive. Under the buzzing fluorescent lights, all I smell is exhaust. But that isn’t why Angelo brought me down here. He could tell I was crawling out of my skin.
His phone rings, and he takes a call, rattling off something about permits on a project that’s been stalled.
The wind outside picks up, and a cold draft rushes through the garage, blowing a receipt across the ground. The sound of tires rolling over concrete and a flash of headlights draw my attention to the vehicle coming up the ramp.