≫ A Dark Mafia Romance ≪
Francesca "Frankie" is undeniably stunning, her ethereal beauty drawing all eyes towards her. A fusion of classic allure and edgy charm. Francesca is fiercely skilled as a criminal defense lawyer. However, there's a cruel ed...
"I promise you," I whispered, the terrifying gleam in my eyes the last thing Adam saw before his vision swirled into darkness, "If you don't start talking soon, I'm going to start sticking, and we both know how that will end."
I carefully ran the blade on Adam's chest, right above his heart, exerting just enough pressure to create a thin line of blood but not enough to kill. Just yet.
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Sawyer's hand reached out and squeezed mine, giving me a little strength in this moment of overwhelming regret. "Don't do that, Frankie," he chastised gently. "Don't bear that guilt on your shoulders. She had her own choices."
But those words did nothing to absolve the remorse I felt inside. If I hadn't set that trap at the gala, Sarah would still be alive.
Her death was not just an accident, it was a wound. A wound inflicted by my recklessness, my ego, my thoughtless schemes. A wound that wouldn't heal with time, it would only grow deeper, a constant reminder of the innocent life that was lost because of me.
But I knew I had to live with it. This overwhelming regret. This guilt. Sarah's death.
My burden to bear. Alone.
Feeling the sharp, penetrating claws of guilt, I darted to my personal gym, feeling a desperate need to attack the punching bag until my knuckles went numb. I yearned for the physical pain, anything to distract me from the guilt gnawing at my insides.
A short time later, Sawyer was there too, dressed in his workout clothes. He tugged on his gloves and made his way over to me. "Let's fight," he suggested.
My heart ached with grief and anger, and I welcomed the distraction. We met on the sparring mat, where I let loose a flurry of punches that were, to my frustration, consistently off target.
"Get a hold of yourself, this isn't how I trained you," Sawyer scolded. "Clear your head, and focus on your breathing."
I tried to follow his instructions, but my thoughts were in chaos. When a punch from Sawyer caught me off guard, I was sent staggering backwards. I had been so absorbed in my thoughts that I didn't see it coming.
"Focus!" His command was sterner this time.
Rather than comply, fury seethed within me. Desperate, I retaliated with another swing but my poor attempt was cut short when a well-aimed uppercut from Sawyer knocked me down.
He extended a hand to me, but I slapped it away. "Don't touch me!" I roared, rolling away and sitting up, nursing my jaw. The pain felt real and oddly comforting. It took away from the raging emotions, if only a little.
"Alright, that's enough for now," he said, moving to remove his gloves. But I was stubborn. I wasn't finished yet, I needed this.
"No!" I rose to my feet, shaking but determined. "Again."
He sighed, eyeing me warily before slowly slipping his gloves back on. "Remember what I said about focus. Anger and aggression alone won't win a fight."
