Semua Bab Damned Straight to Heaven: Bab 61 - Bab 70

NickAppearances matter more than pretty much anything tonight. That’s why I’m the one behind the wheel of Lis’s Rolls-Royce convertible, as we pull up to the banquet hall. The road up to that high-society gathering is swarming with photographers and paparazzi. I honk to clear the street, and they scramble out of the way, though a few still snap photos of us, especially Lis, as I open up her door. The Family-tied security guarding these doors would have smashed those cameras straight to the pavement, if my date here didn’t look like she was enjoying the attention so very fucking much. I keep a stoic face. I ain’t in a mood to pose for photographs, and I sure as shit don’t need to. We ain’t the stars of this event, and we ain’t the couple that’s gonna wind up with entire articles about them in tomorrow’s paper. The mayor and his wife are what this crowd of civis was invited here to ogle at. Ross is here to schmooze and give speeches thanking all these rich as sin guests who donated t

Nick Seconds after that fatal gunshot rang out across the banquet hall – I blacked out. I came to blinking raindrops from my eyes, stood in an alley, practically chest to chest with that young waiter. I don’t even know the name of this civ... “...Christian.” His last word. His stuttering, panicked breaths fall to jarring stillness that same instant, teary eyes turning flat and unfocused. My eyes jerk downward – I’m holding a switchblade, embedded in his chest, dead center in the heart. I jerk it back, and he slumps down the alley wall, blood dribbling out his lips. I just fucking executed him, and I can’t remember a single second of it. “I see you caught up with the culprit.” I tuck the blade from sight in an instant, but it’s no one other than Father Sicillio stood at the open end of this alley. I can hear sirens in the distance… “They’re coming for Jack, not you,” Sicillio softly assures me, folding a handkerchief around my blood-soaked hand before shoving it firmly into my poc

Daniel Christian made it sound like such a basic task – to pick the lock on this horrid cage in the cold stone catacombs of St. Christian’s Cathedral. I’m too weak to steal the keys from one of the staff-wielding priests who come to deliver my meals, so I have to pick this lock. The tines of that fork were small enough to fit inside the mechanism... but they also bend far too easily, at risk of breaking off inside. Add onto that the complication that I had to be careful not to scratch the outside of the lock, or make too much noise and alert Sicillio to what I’m doing before I can actually get the thing open and set out to find Christian… “Your father’s going to die tonight,” his shadow reminds me, sounding far too gleeful at the prospect. “Maybe that’s why you’re taking so long…” He smooths his hand down my side, and I shiver. “You don’t really want to be free of here. You don’t want to prevent that man’s gruesome, public fate.” I swallow. “I… I don’t care if he dies,” I insist.

Daniel I didn’t choose to stand up the second I woke from that dream of Christian’s enforcer fucking me raw. The thing inside made the movement. It fixed my hands around the bars and bent them outward with scarcely an effort.One of the priests heard the noisy groan of warping metal and came rushing to investigate. The thing puppeting me broke the father’s neck without a second thought, stealing the keys from his belt.Jessi already thought I was possessed, but this is far different from my previous enthrallment. I know for a fact that it’s not Christian’s spirit seizing control of every corner of my being. This thing is cold, repulsive, filthy--Don’t struggle. The voice is everywhere, shaking through me. To the crypt. Before Sicillio returns.I head down into that mausoleum. I want to stop and linger, to study that exquisite effigy of Christian: my peaceful, gorgeous saint, carved resting in a stone sarcophagus with the lid just slightly askew… I can hear labored breathing from ins

NickI blacked out again, for who knows how fucking long this time.I come to blinking in the sunlight, descending some outdoor stage with Alessia on my arm. “That was a wonderful speech,” she quietly notes, wiping at her eyes.What the fuck is she talking about?“Will you speak at daddy’s funeral too? I don’t think… Don’t think I’ll be up to it.”This is… I look to the picture on display over that expensive coffin – Mayor Ross. Reporters are all milling about by the parked cars a hundred meters back, kept away from the main ceremony by the city's (AKA Family affiliated) security. Still, there’s a camera set up right in front of this stage, broadcasting each speech… We’re at a televised funeral for the mayor. It’s what the dons were talking about, and I guess I was invited to speak. I gave some speech, and I can't remember a word of it.Sicillio’s the one on stage now, conducting the rest of the ceremony and prayers before the burial…“I’m glad he’s feeling better,” Alessia exhales, s