Chapter 31—Persephone

“I’m sorry, my sweet girl,” Father mumbles, squeezing my hand.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” I wipe the cold sweat from his brow.

He’s still lying on the floor in the living room. I have his head cradled against my lap.

We’ve been here for over an hour now, and he’s getting worse.

When Frankie left us, I managed to grab a few cushions to make Father more comfortable. I also used one to apply pressure to his wound. It’s now soaked with his blood.

“My heart is filled with sorrow for everything.” He coughs. “I’m sorry about Frankie too, my love. I know how you loved him. He was your favorite uncle. My little brother.”

Frankie…

I still can’t believe this is happening or that he’s the same person I looked up to—my cool uncle. I can’t comprehend how Frankie could be this evil person who’s taken so much from my family and me.

Everything he did had a destructive domino effect, with one bad thing fueling another.

When I think back to the massacre, I feel sick.

And those men who took Athena and raped her? That was his doing too.

All the good he did was just a pretense of shit with no real meaning.

“There are no words Father,” I mutter.

“I know. There are no words for how I treated you either.” Father’s voice is faint. I’m so scared he will lose consciousness and be gone forever. “I felt that I lost Athena because I was so worried about saving you that I couldn’t see how broken she was or that she needed me. Losing her and your mother was too much. Much too much. I didn’t know how to love you after because the grief hurt so badly.”

“I understand.”

“Then you’re a better woman than I raised you up to be, and I’m so proud of you. I called Juilliard, and they want you back if you do some makeup classes.”

“Oh, Father.”

“And that means you’ll keep your place with the New York City Ballet. I pray you get to dance again and live your dream. I wish I could see you, but I won’t.”

“Don’t talk like that, please. I need you.”

“You never needed me. You were always stronger than you thought you were. That’s why you are called Persephone. It was me who named you, and your mother agreed it suited our brave little girl.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Now you do. Persephone, Goddess of Spring. A time when everything is reborn and given new life. I prayed you would live, and you did. Amore mia, I love you.”

The door crashes open, and Frankie comes in with Antonio.

“Get her up. It’s time to go,” Frankie orders.

“I’m not leaving my father.”

“Foolish girl, don’t you see he’s on the verge of death. He’s dying as slowly as I wanted him to. So he can watch as he loses everything, including his life.”

I look back at Father and see how much weaker he looks now in just the mere seconds that have passed.

Antonio marches up to us and grabs my arm, yanking me up so hard my shoulder feels dislocated.

Father winces as his head slips off my lap.

“Let me go!”

“Shut the fuck up and come,” Antonio snarls, dragging me away.

Just then, the sound of gunfire booms from outside, and we stop.

The double doors ahead crash open, slamming into the walls on either side, and Lukiyan walks in with his gun aimed at Frankie.

My heart leaps into my throat at the sight of him. I can’t believe he came back.

How did he figure everything out or that I was in trouble?

It doesn’t matter. He’s here now.

Lukiyan cuts me a glance which provides a fleeting moment of reprieve I was desperate for.

However, any comfort I feel is extinguished when Frankie aims his gun at Lukiyan.

The sadistic smile on Frankie’s face gives more of an insight into the monster he is.

“Back so soon, Lukiyan?” Frankie taunts.

“Cut the shit. I know what you did.” Lukiyan looks at Frankie and then Antonio. “I know what you did too.”

I get the feeling he’s not talking about what either of them did to my family.

He’s talking about something else. Since I’ve only seen that murderous look in his eyes when he spoke about his sister, I can only assume it’s to do with her.

Frankie and Antonio did something to her.

“Lukiyan Romanechka. Is that even your real name?” Frankie smiles.

“It certainly is.”

“Who was Melissa Kozlov to you?”

“My sister.”

“Oh, so this is big brother’s revenge. Did you know your sister used to suck my cock and let me fuck her to get money for her next fix?”

My stomach churns, and bile rises in my throat.

Lukiyan looks ready to kill, but I can see the situation here.

They’re both pointing guns at each other, Antonio has me, and my father is in the corner. When bullets start flying, one or more of us will die.

Lukiyan’s not retaliating yet because I’m right in the middle of it.

“I suppose you happily obliged,” Lukiyan spits.

“I did what I could. She was a pretty girl.”

“What about you, Antonio?” Lukiyan’s gaze hardens when he looks at Antonio. “You knew she was pregnant with your child, and you got the psycho to kill her?”

Oh my God. The baby was Antonio’s.

As raw mortification sweeps over me, I glance up at Antonio. He flicks his eyes down to me, but his flinty gaze doesn’t change.

“I did. Shame about her crazy ideas. She was a good fuck until she thought she could trick me. But she probably did that because she was raised in the Bratva. You tried to trick us all too, didn’t you? You made us think you were a simple guard.”

The floorboards creak and footsteps sound in the room to the right. The guards working for Frankie come into view, and their presence is just the right distraction for Lukiyan when they start firing at him.

Lukiyan doesn’t allow them to faze him. He cocks the hammer on his gun, and the bullet that flies out of it when he fires hits Frankie straight in the head.

Frankie falls to the ground instantly with his eyes wide and unmoving. Dead.

“Come!” Antonio shouts, pulling me along.

I try to get away from him, but he’s too strong. I’m little more than a rigoll as he drags me away.

As the gunfire continues, I look over my shoulder.

Aleksei and some other Bratva guys have run in and are shooting at the guards.

Lukiyan gets shot, and I scream.

That’s the last thing I see before Antonio pulls me through the doors.

“Get your hands off me!” I shout.

“You are mine, Persephone. Mine. I’m the one who loves you.”

I could almost laugh. “You don’t know the first thing about love.”

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re supposed to be together, so he can’t have you.”

I can’t go with him. I can’t allow him to take me.

When we get out into the garden, I yank my arm again. He tugs back, and at that moment, I catch a glimpse of his gun in his jacket pocket.

Without a second thought, I reach for it and shoot him in his side before he can register that I have his gun.

He shouts in pain, releasing me as he grabs his side. “You little bitch.”

I shoot him again near the same spot. “That’s for hurting me. I fucking hate you!”

I thought he was going to fall, but instead, he growls and lunges for me.

I try to run away, but he manages to grab my arm and backhands me across my face so hard that I fall to the ground.

I drop the gun but try to reach for it again when he comes after me.

Just as he lowers, a bullet lodges in the side of his head.

Another pierces his neck.

I turn around to see Lukiyan standing across from us, getting ready to shoot Antonio again.

Antonio is already dead before he hits the ground, but when Lukiyan reaches us, he shoots him five more times, leaving his head in a bloody mess of stomach-churning gore.

Lukiyan only stops because he’s run out of bullets.

He looks at me with his blood-splashed face, drops the gun, and rushes to my side.

Blood runs down his arm from his injury, but he scoops me up and holds me.

“You’re safe now. You’re safe with me.” He presses his lips to my ear, then cups my face. “I will never let anyone hurt you ever again.”

“Oh, Lukiyan.” I brush my nose against his.

“Come. Let’s get your father to the hospital. This isn’t over yet.”

It’s not because my father could still die.