84 Confessions

84 Confessions

Theo,

I sat alone in the house, my heart racing with impatience. Every nerve in my body screamed for me to pick up the phone and call Luca. I needed to know how Lacy was doing, but I couldn’t risk it. Not now. I had to keep the charade going, maintain the illusion of concern, just in case Karolyn—or someone else—was watching me. The walls seemed to close in around me as I busied myself with meaningless tasks, trying to mirror the life of someone whose partner was battling cancer. The performance felt suffocating.

To fill the silence, I made phone calls, asking for money under the guise of desperation. I was sure she had bugged my phone by now. The thought of her listening to every word filled me with resentment, but I played my part, all the while counting down the days until I could drop the act. The weight of pretending was crushing, but it wouldn’t last forever.

When she returned that afternoon, her face was clouded with sadness. She looked pale and drained, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was on her mind. A flicker of impatience stirred within me; the sooner this farce ended, the better. As she passed by without a word, heading straight to the bedroom, I watched her closely. My gaze lingered, not out of affection, but out of curiosity. What was she up to now? A part of me felt guilty for my indifference, but I pushed it aside.

Minutes later, she reappeared, her face now adorned with a smile that felt almost sinister in its abruptness.

“Aren’t you coming?” she asked sweetly, her tone as light as if nothing were wrong.

I forced a smile and followed her, every step feeling like an act of betrayal against my true emotions. Her ability to switch so quickly unsettled me. I swore to myself, silently and bitterly, that no matter what happened, I wouldn’t touch her again.

ONE WEEK LATER

The days dragged on, and Karolyn’s health took a sharp turn for the worse. Her rapid decline unsettled me, and for the first time, doubt crept in. Could she actually be sick? The thought made my stomach churn with unease. Still, I couldn’t afford to waver. I had come here for a reason, and I needed to see it through, no matter the cost.

I continued making phone calls, reaching out to friends for financial help. Mathias, ever loyal, came through with the funds. Guilt gnawed at me as I accepted his money. Once this ordeal was over, I’d make sure Luca returned every cent. For now, the money sat in my account, a grim reminder of the tangled web I was caught in.

Later, I walked back into the house and found Karolyn lying in bed, her face flushed with fever. Something about her condition seemed off. My mind raced as I tried to make sense of her symptoms. Could it really be silver poisoning? Or was it something else?

“Hey,” I said softly, sitting beside her. She looked up and managed a weak smile. Her skin was warm to the touch, and dark circles framed her tired eyes.

She coughed, and I froze as flecks of blood stained her lips. Panic mingled with suspicion in my chest, but I kept my expression neutral.

“You should call Marco and Randy,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “You need them with you now.”

Her hand reached out to mine, her fingers lacing with surprising tenderness.

“You’re all I need,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

Her words struck a chord I wasn’t prepared for. I stood abruptly, pushing the moment aside.

“Get up,” I said firmly.

She frowned, confusion etched on her face. “Why?”

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” I declared. “You need treatment, and you’re starting chemotherapy. Bianchi sent me the money, and we’re using it for that.”

Her reaction surprised me. Instead of relief, a shadow of worry crossed her face. My suspicion deepened, but I said nothing, waiting for her to speak.

“Aren’t you happy about this?” I asked, my tone sharp with frustration.

She lowered her head, avoiding my gaze. The gesture was small, but it screamed guilt. Something wasn’t right. She was hiding something.

“Please sit,” she whispered, and I reluctantly complied, my nerves on edge.

“What is it?” I asked, trying to mask my growing frustration.

“How have you felt being away from the mafia?” she asked suddenly, catching me off guard.

“What does that have to do with anything?” I snapped, but she pressed on.

“You said Luca created new rules for peace among the families,” she said softly. “Did he succeed?”

The conversation was shifting into dangerous territory, and I didn’t like it.

“What does this have to do with your health, Karolyn?” I asked, my voice gentler now, though my patience was wearing thin.

“Please,” she pleaded, her voice barely audible. “Just answer the question.”

Her vulnerability stirred something inside me—a mix of pity, anger, and confusion. I sighed, bracing myself for whatever was coming next.

“It did,” I said, my voice steady but distant. “Although there were still those who broke the rules, the peace it brought allowed alphas to run their packs without interference.” I met her gaze, but her misty eyes held an emotion I couldn’t quite place—sadness, perhaps, or something deeper.

She sighed, her shoulders sinking under a weight that seemed unbearable. “Do you think packs and towns wouldn’t be better off without the bullies—those who take over territories and over-tax businesses?” she asked, her voice tinged with a quiet desperation.

I exhaled, leaning back in my chair. “I don’t know,” I admitted, my thoughts already tangled. “The mafia does more than just control territory. It helps organize businesses, keeps crime lords at bay, and ensures packs don’t have to go to war. It’s… beneficial in its own way.” My words felt defensive, though I wasn’t entirely sure why.

Her lips curved into a small, sad smile. “It would be beneficial,” she agreed, “if there was one ruling body. If territories and wealth were shared equally. No lords, no bosses. Just mutual respect, and no one crossing boundaries. Wouldn’t that be better?”

I sighed again, this time with frustration. “You’re not making sense right now, Karolyn. What does any of this have to do with your health?” My tone was sharper than I intended, but I couldn’t stop myself. Her cryptic remarks were testing my patience.

Her smile didn’t waver. Instead, it deepened, as if she knew something I didn’t. “I’m from Somberg, Theo,” she began, her voice suddenly softer, almost fragile. “Do you remember the mob war in Somberg forty-seven years ago?”