Kylie Bray (Love, Hate and Billions) novel Chapter 58

There is never a perfect time.

Never.

But at least now, I have someone else in my life too, I have Michael.

When Vincent leaves to his secret places every night, leaving me alone, I spend my hours talking to the one person who will always love me. The one person besides my papa who understands me, even if I don't tell him a thing.

“Haven't you spilled enough blood,” I ask Vincent as I stare down at another poor victim, another young person, a girl barely twenty who just wanted to save her father?

“Enough will be when I have Lucca's head on my table, this is war, Kylie.”

Vincent steps over a fat man dropped dead on the floor of yet another house, another location, another Massacre.

“Don't think of me all the time, you will get a headache,” he says as I stand here surrounded by yet another mountain of dead people.

Since this started I have lost count of the men and women fallen to their deaths by Vincent and his men.

I am not saying the Outfit are innocent, they attacked Aliyana's home two weeks ago, but not to this extent, not like this.

The police are ruling these murders as a gang war, not knowing that most of them come from a man who can barely stand most of the time.

I am going to play my hand and hope in the end this turns out well.

For the past month, with the help of Michael, I have collected information about Lucca, knowing that Vincent wants him dead.

I now know where Lucca is, and tonight I am going to dump myself into the same hell I was carried out of. Hoping, in the end, I could save the man that I love, and we can finally get our happy after.

My love for Vincent is not one of roses. Maybe it was at one time, a childish obsession, now it is stemmed from fear, hatred, pain, addiction.

I need him because without him I don't feel I am strong enough to walk my path. I don't want to.

We are both jaded, made to live in the shadows and I am okay with that, and if confronting Lucca and stopping this once and for all is what I got to do then so be it.

I can't allow Vincent to take any more lives in my name. My father asked me if I could live with the blood on my hands and that is no, but nor can I live without Vincent.

I won't stop him, but I can stop this.

It is past eleven at night, I wait patiently for Vincent to get dressed.

“Have you been to the doctor yet?” he asks.

Since he found out about the pregnancy we haven't spoken about it. He touches my stomach a time or few but either than that, this is the first time he is addressing it head-on.

“Ah no, maybe if you cooled off on the torture sessions I might be able to set up an appointment.”

My sarcasm isn't warranted in his mind, I know this because he speeds up his dressing and grabs his glass of cognac, swallowing the half-full glass.