Chapter 5 - The Choice
Vincent reached the harbor just as Elena caught up with him.
The wind tore at her hair. The water below was black and violent, slamming against the old dock pilings.
Vincent stood near the edge with a gun in his hand.
“You should have stayed with Luca,” he said.
“You should have stayed loyal to your family.”
Vincent laughed bitterly.
“Family? Luca is not family anymore. He is a man trying to wash blood from a name built on blood.”
“And you think more blood will save it?”
“It will preserve it.”
“No,” Elena said. “It will bury it.”
Vincent lifted the gun.
“You don’t know what it means to carry a legacy.”
Elena took one step closer.
“My father carried yours. It killed him.”
Vincent’s eyes flashed.
“He was weak.”
“He was decent.”
“Decency is a luxury.”
“No,” Elena said. “Decency is a choice.”
Sirens echoed in the distance.
Vincent glanced toward the warehouse.
Then he looked back at her.
“You think Luca can love you without destroying you?”
The question struck too close.
Vincent saw it.
“He will try,” he continued. “That is the tragedy of men like him. They love like they fight. Possessively. Violently. Until there is nothing left of the woman except the part that belongs to them.”
Elena’s voice shook.
“You don’t know him.”
“I know his blood.”
“No.” She stepped closer again. “You know the version of him you wanted him to become.”
Vincent’s finger tightened on the trigger.
A shot rang out.
Elena flinched.
Vincent stared down at his chest.
Blood spread across his shirt.
Behind Elena, Luca stood at the warehouse entrance, one hand pressed to his wounded shoulder, the other holding his gun.
Vincent looked at him.
For a moment, neither man moved.
Then Vincent smiled faintly.
“You always were your father’s son.”
Luca’s face hardened.
“No,” he said. “I’m the man he wanted me to be.”
Vincent staggered backward.
Elena reached for him instinctively.
But Vincent looked down at her hand, then at the harbor behind him.
“You should have let the past stay buried,” he whispered.
Then he stepped backward into the black water.
Elena screamed.
Luca caught her before she could follow.
“No,” he said against her hair. “No more.”
She fought him for one second.
Then she broke.
She turned into his chest, sobbing as sirens approached and rain began to fall again.
Luca held her with his uninjured arm.
His blood soaked through her sweater.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“For what?”
“For every danger that came near you because you stood beside me.”
Elena looked up at him.
“You didn’t make Vincent choose evil.”
“No. But I should have seen it.”
“You can’t protect everyone from everything.”
“I should have protected you.”
“You did.”
Luca’s eyes closed.
“You were shot.”
“And you came after me.”
“That was reckless.”
“That was beautiful.”
Despite the pain, Luca laughed once.
Elena pressed her forehead to his.
“You are not your uncle,” she said. “You are not Vincent. And you are not your father.”
His voice was rough.
“Then who am I?”
She looked into the eyes of the man Manhattan feared.
“You are Luca Valenti,” she said. “A man who still has a choice.”
Behind them, Mara arrived with Caroline and Noah.
Elena ran to them.
Caroline clung to her, shaking.
Noah buried his face in Elena’s side.
Luca watched them from a distance.
And for the first time, Elena understood something important.
Luca did not stand apart because he did not feel.
May you like
He stood apart because he felt too much.
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