The Don and His Russian Bride

XXIX

No matter how much I fanned myself, the heat remained stagnant around me. When I pictured saying goodbye to Luc, I imagined it would be on a gloomy morning as though mother nature shared my loss with tears of her own. However, an overcast day would have been out of character for Sicily. Today, our dark grieving attire beaconed the sun towards us.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I stared at the small urn carrying Luc's ashes. The minister began his speech in preparation for the burial. Instead of pretending to listen to the Italian words I didn't understand, my thoughts focused on how wrong everything seemed. I should've been able to hold Luc's hand one last time or look at his restful face as I said goodbye.

I kept Luc's ring on a chain around my neck. It burned into my skin as though I needed one more painful reminder of what had happened. I shifted my weight from one foot to another, thankful I had worn flats. Heels would've only sunken into the grass of the cemetery.

The minister continued talking, not realizing I couldn't take it anymore. This funeral was supposed to be providing me with closure, but there was no way it could. Not when I refused to accept that he was truly gone. Luc never would've wanted me alone like this with these monsters in suits.

Cesare and another man stepped forward with the ashes and walked towards the deep square hole in front of the grave marker. There hadn't been enough time to have a gravestone made, but soon we would have one made that recognized Luc for who he was and not what he did for a living.

My vision blurred as my tears thickened. It was no use trying to wipe them away when they continued to pour out. I struggled to breathe as my chest squeezed and mucus caught in my throat.

After the funeral, I wouldn't know how to return to the mansion without Luc. Once Cesare set down the ashes, everything would feel so final.

I watched Cesare lower Luc's ashes into the grave when my thoughts and concerns became interrupted by a gunshot. My world paused for a second as the urn shattered from Cesare's hands.

Armando, who stood at my left side, yanked my arm until I fell face first onto the ground. My fingers dug into the earth as I lifted my head to see all the men around me pulling out their guns. Two sides were formed like clockwork around the grave as if they had done this all their life, which they had.

While I had no way of knowing who was shooting at who, these men had learned early on that they needed to choose their side and stand by it. Vacillating between sides only increased their risk of getting themselves killed. While the men at the funeral split and fought each other, Cesare and his side directed attention towards the edge of the cemetery where the first bullet was fired. More men in black leather were aiming at them from behind a smattering of trees in the clearing beside the cemetery.

With everyone's focus on killing each other and staying alive, Armando took the chance to crouch over me. His fingers latched onto my upper arm in a firm grip.

"When I tell you to go, you need to run."

"What?" His intention was to get me out of this situation, but everyone had ignored me while I was lying flat on the ground. Running would only increase the probability of me getting shot.

Armando jerked his chin up, causing me to follow the direction of his gesture. Across the cemetery was a black suv. The men crashing the funeral had been a diversion for me to escape. If I passed the open grave, I had a straight shot towards the vehicle.

I nodded my head, letting him know that I was on board with his plan. For several seconds, I would be putting myself in the middle of the gunfire. It had to be worth the risk if Armando believed it would get me to safety. I tuned out the sound of bullets whirring through the air, and determined that I could make it through the cemetery.