Tennant’s words from way back then whisper in my head. So sure of himself, confident and unapologetic, even at eleven years old. He had already embraced what he knew he would one daybecome. Even if he was indifferent to me for those initial few weeks when we first met, he still willingly gave me hope.
It’s only fitting it ends here.
“I’ll ask you one time, and one time only, Cris,” he says softly, his words barely crossing the space between us. The barest hint of his ground-out accent can be heard, and only if you know to listen for it. I remember, though, how he sounded and looked after spending years hiding away overseas. Before time spent in my company and the practice of eliminating that difference washed it out, making him appear just as he is now.
“Would you change anything, if given the chance?”
I swallow, the rope rubbing my skin raw with the motion. “No,” I whisper.
“That’s what I thought. I wish I could say I’m sorry for this next part, but we both know I’m not.”
He raises the hook just a little, until the rope is pressing against my throat, and it takes all of my effort to breathe. Balancing on the balls of my feet, I try not to struggle, knowing it’ll only make it worse, and not wanting to kill myself because I panicked.
I don’t hear the door behind me open. I don’t even know someone else is in the room with us until Tennant holds out his hand for them.
My breath catches in my throat, and my heart beats loudly in my ears as my worst nightmare comes to life in front of me.
“No…” I whisper.
Roman carefully and deliberately steps into Tennant, sliding his delicate hand into Tennant’s bigger one. Neither pays me any attention, having eyes only for each other.
I drink in the sight of my son. Whole and healthy, except for the cast on his left arm. His dark hair is neatly combed, and longer than he usually keeps it, but the length suits him. As doesthe jet-black pleated skirt, paired with a burgundy suit jacket that’s a little more cinched in at the waist than usual.
Low heeled boots finish off the look, giving him another inch of height, but he’s still so much smaller than Tennant, who dips his head and presses a lingering kiss to Roman’s lips. Not that his size or delicate appearance has anything to do with how dangerous he is. Roman is everything Tennant and I ever wanted him to be. An innocent-looking boy encasing the wit and viciousness of a true mafia Boss.
Roman backs away from Tennant and finally turns to me, and there's a coldness in his green eyes that I never expected to see directed at me. He doesn’t say a word as he moves in closer, his shoes hitting cement flooring is the only sound in the room aside from my thundering heart.
“Hello,” Roman says carefully, a small grin painted on his glossy lips. “I dressed up for you.” He gestures to his outfit. “Even asked Benjamin to help me with my makeup, because I wanted to be perfect for when you saw me again.”
“Roman…”
He tilts his head. “I’m sure you expect me to be angry, to not want anything to do with you…and you’re right. I’m so fucking pissed right now. If I never have to see you again, it’ll be too soon.” He takes a step closer and slides his hands behind his back, as if removing the temptation to touch me. “I almost lost my dad,” he says softly. “I don’t know if Ten told you, but Dad almost died because he was attacked. Whether it was by the assassins who are after us, or whoever is trying to take us down, we don’t know yet. But it doesn’t matter. Someone tried to take the only parent I have left, and…that made me realize I have to do this.”
I shake my head, ignoring how the rope around my throat tightens and crushes my windpipe for a moment. “No…” I say with a cough. “You don’t.”
Roman sighs. “Oh, Cristian…but I do. I needed to see if I could accept you again. If you deserved my mercy. I’ll never forget what you did to my dad, what you did to me and my loves…but I also know the type of person you raised me to be.
“I still love you. It'd be so much easier if I didn’t, but you were my father, my Boss and mentor… Do you deserve to live to see the consequences of your actions? Or are you too far gone to be saved?”
“Please, Figlio,” I beg. “Kill me if you must, but don’t let me suffer.”
He laughs cruelly. “Too bad you didn’t give Ignacio the same consideration. You didn’t think Dad was worth being spared your wrath, so why should you?”
“Please…” Tears stream down my cheeks.
Roman smiles, it’s brittle, and his own eyes shine with tears, but he only stands up straighter, watching me carefully. He holds his casted arm out. “My ribs still twinge if I move wrong, and my last x-ray showed that I still need to keep my wrist immobile for a while longer, but other than that, I’ve healed. My bones have been broken, but they’re knitting themselves back together with the help of my doctors. My heart, though? No one can fix that, not after you ripped it out so viciously.”
“Roman…”
“Are you sorry?” he asks sharply.
I swallow and try to nod, but the rope doesn’t let me. “Yes,” I whisper. “I am so very fucking sorry for hurting you.”
“And Dad?”
“Yes, Carter too. He…he’s always been such a wonderful father. Better than me, the parent you always deserved.”
“Ignacio?”
