Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
“If we intend not to commit those same sins again, Paulie. If we intend to change our ways, deeds, and thoughts so the sin doesn’t reoccur.”
Paulie frowned. “Your point?”
“Who knows when my sins will stop?”
“Jesus died on the cross for our sins, Antony. We’re creatures of sin. We’re incapable of being perfect.”
True.
But God was still an angry God.
He was still wrathful.
Antony feared that his inability to change his ways and the fact that he had yet to be punished by his God for his sins meant that it just hadn’t happened ... yet.
Maybe it would.
Someday.
Paulie picked up this briefcase from the floor as he snuffed out the cigar he’d been puffing on. Antony always found it odd how a doctor like Paulie could smoke, knowing the risks. Antony enjoyed a good Cuban every once in a while, so he couldn’t say much.
Popping open the top of the briefcase, Paulie pulled out a few items and set them aside on a small table. His friend went about checking the glass vials, each filled with a different clear liquid.
All different medications.
A deadly concoction.
“Opioids are popular on the streets at the moment,” Paulie said as he shook a vial.
“I’d heard.”
“It’s mostly safe when used in-hospital or under supervision as prescribed, but we both know how addicts can be. Nonetheless, it’s popular.” Paulie grabbed something inside the case and then flashed an orange bottle filled with circular pills. “Oxy. Shove a couple in her mouth and leave the bottle by the bedside.”
Antony nodded but said nothing.
“Overdose is an easy explanation. Make sure she swallows the ones you shove in. I’ll make sure Charles is the coroner on call for the district,” Paulie added.
“How much will that cost you?” Antony asked.
“Enough. Smart move on your part making sure Jordyn heard the phone call earlier. She’ll pass that info along to Lucian, I’m sure. He’ll never look to you.”
Antony frowned. “I don’t like lying to him, either, but he’ll be angry if he knows it was me. I have to do this—I’ve had to do this for years.”
“I get it.”
Paulie withdrew a syringe from the case and popped off the cap. He went about filling the needle with doses from each bottle, cracking the syringe with his finger each time as if to mix the concoction. Once he was done, he replaced the cap, packed everything back into his case, and walked over to Antony’s desk, holding out the needle.
Antony took it. “Thank you.”
Paulie gave a single nod. “Ask for forgiveness. Better to ask and know then to never do and always wonder.”
Antony smirked. “From who, God or my wife?”
“I think both would surprise you.”
*
Antony was careful to let the front door close without a sound. Adjusting the black leather gloves he wore, Antony glanced around the dark foyer. He hadn’t noticed an extra vehicle in Kate’s driveway, so it was likely she didn’t have any male guests over for the night. Antony couldn’t be too careful.
And he didn’t trust Kate.
He hadn’t trusted her for years.
It pissed him off more than he cared to admit that he’d allowed Kate to live for all these years after what she did to John. Her death had been more than warranted back then, but Antony had been stuck in a place where he felt like he had already taken too much from his wife.
Her sister, too?
Antony couldn’t do that to Cecelia. Not then.
Now, he didn’t have a choice.
But he would enjoy this.
Kate earned it. Even God had to know that.
She’d hurt his son—tried to, anyway. Lucian would come out on top, he always did.
But she still tried.
Vile. Bitch.
Gone.
Antony had bided his time. He was done waiting. It was time for Kate to answer for her wrongs.
And of course, good bosses did their own work.
*
The door to Kate’s bedroom was opened about a foot. Antony pushed it the rest of the way with as much force as he could muster. Luckily, there was no doorstopper to prevent the door from crashing into the wall with a bang. Kate Grovatti jerked up in her bed with wide, confused eyes. She instantly found a smiling Antony leaning in the doorway.
Cold.
He knew he looked so fucking cold.
“Kate,” Antony said near soundlessly.
Her stare, usually cold enough to burn, was filled with fear and a dawning understanding.
Antony smiled again. “I know it’s late.”
Kate swallowed hard. “I did nothing.”
“Funny, you have no idea why I’ve come here. But those who feel they need to defend their non-actions without merit usually have something to hide.”
Water glimmered in Kate’s eyes. Antony didn’t let her show of emotions affect him in the least. Kate was false—every bit of her screamed fake. She would find no sympathy from him, not after all she had done.
Then, Kate sneered through her fear, likely realizing Antony wasn’t leaving and was there for only one thing.