How was I supposed to know I was damning all three of our souls with one choice?
I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
I surrendered.
In one year, they were married.
In one year, I had everything I wanted.In one year…
Our lives dragged us straight to Hell.CHAPTER THREE“I find your lack of faith disturbing.” —Darth Vader
Romeo
Then: Eight months later“She said yes!” Tristian’s face was lit up like a Christmas tree as the family all stood to offer their congratulations. We were at our parents’ house.
I sat.
I sat, and I stared at the wall in front of me.
Soon he’d want to shake my hand.
Soon he’d want me to smile.
Soon I’d want to drink myself to death.
How I could manage to kill without once feeling an ounce of pain, only to feel like I was going to lose my mind at the news of his engagement.
I buried the reasons like I buried my heart.
Like I’d hidden my soul.
Eden.
She wasn’t mine.
She never had been.
Now she belonged to another man who wasn’t me.
My brother.
Tristian.
He didn’t steal her from me.
I gave her to him.
And I had only myself to blame.
I’d let this happen.
In the back of my mind, I knew—a life for us just wasn’t in the cards. A relationship. A marriage. I barely allowed a friendship. I didn’t want this life for her. If it wasn’t me, it was going to be another son of a bitch who’d drag her into the flames with him. I couldn’t allow that to happen, not after knowing how pure her heart truly was. My brother would be good to her. He’d treat Eden like she deserved. She was his whole world, and I wouldn’t expect anything less from him.
But what was worse than what I was currently encountering? I couldn’t face her.
I didn’t want to congratulate her.
Tell her how happy I was for them.
More lies.
No truths.
The reality of our love story was that it was over before it ever had a chance to begin.
Being married to me would kill her, slowly, day by day, until no pieces of her soul were left. She’d lie with her words, and she’d give me her body. But I’d be left with nothing but the ash of the woman I burned with me.
It was better this way.
She had him,
He had her.
They had each other while I had nothing.
Slowly, I stood on wooden legs and then turned to my brother.
“Tristian.” I held out my hand, surprised it wasn’t shaking with the rage I felt trapped in my body demanding to be free. “I’m happy for you, brother.”
The room fell silent.
They all knew.
They fucking knew.
I sacrificed my happiness to ensure he received his. Tristian’s eyes flickered with sadness before he cleared his throat and reached out, taking my hand in his—a firm handshake, a gentleman’s handshake.
Why did I feel like I was going to fuck him up?
“I’m going to head out; I have a few things I need to take care of.” I sidestepped him, not giving him or any of the family a chance to say shit.
My 1961 convertible Lincoln Continental was parked in front of one of the many Sinacore mansions, just waiting for me to take it on a joy ride. Unlocking the doors, I stepped in and fired up the engine. Instantly, I slammed my hands against the steering wheel until it didn’t hurt anymore until I didn’t want to start a war within The Famiglia.
With my brother.
My flesh and blood.
I needed to get my shit together, I was trained to not feel emotion, and there I was feeling bullshit I didn’t think I was capable of. It was confusing, tearing at my insides, making me feel like less of the man I was born to be.
My hands shook as I finally gripped the steering wheel and hit the accelerator until it was pressed against the floor of the car.
Driving was a blur. One big fucking blur.
All I saw was her face.
Blue eyes, striking red hair, full lips.
Laughter.
God, I’d die to hear her laugh like she did with my brother. She loved him. I knew that everyone loved him as well. It was complicated. We were complicated. More so now.
A sharp curve loomed ahead, and I eased off the accelerator as I followed the road, then once again jammed the gas pedal to the floor and punched through the turn, trying to shake off the unrelenting visions of what I’d just seen and heard. Turning up the music, I blared it as loud as it would go. With the hope it would tune out the images of Eden, of Tristian, of the life they’d have together. It hammered loud and hard into my mind, mimicking the pounding of my heart and the ringing in my ears.
I sped through the night. Going over seventy-five miles per hour, pushing eighty, ninety, one hundred. Fucking furious I’d allowed this to happen. I couldn’t get to my final destination fast enough, flying by vehicle after vehicle across the valley, my foot heavy on the accelerator until everything I sped by was simply another huge blur.