Kylie Bray (Love, Hate and Billions)

Chapter 58 (Kylie)

There is never a perfect time.

Never.

But at least now, I have someone else in my life too, I have Michael.

When Vincent leaves to his secret places every night, leaving me alone, I spend my hours talking to the

one person who will always love me. The one person besides my papa who understands me, even if I

don't tell him a thing.

“Haven't you spilled enough blood,” I ask Vincent as I stare down at another poor victim, another young

person, a girl barely twenty who just wanted to save her father?

“Enough will be when I have Lucca's head on my table, this is war, Kylie.”

Vincent steps over a fat man dropped dead on the floor of yet another house, another location, another

Massacre.

“Don't think of me all the time, you will get a headache,” he says as I stand here surrounded by yet

another mountain of dead people.

Since this started I have lost count of the men and women fallen to their deaths by Vincent and his

men.

I am not saying the Outfit are innocent, they attacked Aliyana's home two weeks ago, but not to this

extent, not like this.

The police are ruling these murders as a gang war, not knowing that most of them come from a man

who can barely stand most of the time.

I am going to play my hand and hope in the end this turns out well.

For the past month, with the help of Michael, I have collected information about Lucca, knowing that

Vincent wants him dead.

I now know where Lucca is, and tonight I am going to dump myself into the same hell I was carried out

of. Hoping, in the end, I could save the man that I love, and we can finally get our happy after.

My love for Vincent is not one of roses. Maybe it was at one time, a childish obsession, now it is

stemmed from fear, hatred, pain, addiction.

I need him because without him I don't feel I am strong enough to walk my path. I don't want to.

We are both jaded, made to live in the shadows and I am okay with that, and if confronting Lucca and

stopping this once and for all is what I got to do then so be it.

I can't allow Vincent to take any more lives in my name. My father asked me if I could live with the

blood on my hands and that is no, but nor can I live without Vincent.

I won't stop him, but I can stop this.

It is past eleven at night, I wait patiently for Vincent to get dressed.

“Have you been to the doctor yet?” he asks.

Since he found out about the pregnancy we haven't spoken about it. He touches my stomach a time or

few but either than that, this is the first time he is addressing it head-on.

“Ah no, maybe if you cooled off on the torture sessions I might be able to set up an appointment.”

My sarcasm isn't warranted in his mind, I know this because he speeds up his dressing and grabs his

glass of cognac, swallowing the half-full glass.

He glares at me, “What are your plans for the evening, another four and a half-hour conversation with

my fucking brother.”

This is the one problem that really grates on my nerves when it comes to Vincent, it is his jealousy

toward Michael.

I don't get it, as I have always been close to my brothers especially Michael.

After my abduction I hadn't spoken to Michael, as a healing mechanism, I wasn't ready. But when I

lived the few days with papa, Michael stopped by and I found myself confiding in him as I usually did,

BUT well, not everything, I am different now. So I gave him the jest of the story.

Not nearly as half as papa knew but enough to let him know I still cared.

Michael was the one who came up with the plan to find Lucca and help Vincent. To help both of us, so

we can move on.

Obviously, I can't tell any of that to Vincent, he expects my silence and since I know this suite is rigged

with listening devices I am careful and only contact Michael with the phone he gave to me. It is NôvelDrama.Org owns all content.

untraceable and can't be hacked.

“Don't you have somewhere to be?” I ask him, tracking his steps from the bed where I am lying down

on.

“Can't you see I am getting ready, since when do you want to get rid of me so quickly, you make a man

feel like a slag? I bet my cum is still dripping out of that wet cunt of yours.” He grins at his own joke.

And even I can't help the tug on my own lips. I happen to like his sense of humor, even if he is an

alcoholic. It is something I can fix.

Over the months I have been with Vincent it is the small moments when he lets me see the side to him

others don't that I love.

It is the moments we shared when he stayed with Beggar and I in my home.

The promise of who he can be, who is hidden.

Yet I know I should love his bad side too, I should love all of him, and I am trying to I really am.

Even knowing it is wrong.

I am weak when it comes to him.

“There is that sexy smile of yours, set up the appointment for tomorrow, let's go see what our baby

looks like, then I will decide on the size of the diamond.”

My eyes widen at what he just said, the careless way he said it.

And I don't hold the frown marring my face. Or the deep attentive look I bestow upon him.

He stares at me, with the same intensity I am staring at him, but for different reasons I am sure.

“You are mine Kylie, that baby in your belly is mine, might as well make it official.”

He walks out, and it is not the first time my heart bleeds painfully in my chest for this man, and I am

sure it won't be the last.

Yes, he is going to marry me, but not out of love, because he thinks I am carrying his child. And the

funny thing about it, is I will go through with it.

I will walk in the dark paths, dangerous grounds for this man who won't love me back.

They say denial and excuses is a woman's fatal flaw. Instead of admitting the truth that night, I

convinced myself that Vincent would love me eventually. That he just had a hard life, that even though I

wasn't the same girl from all those months ago when he asked for a chance, I could love for the both of

us. Excuses, excuses, excuses. They pile up, until one day you run out of them. When is enough?

Looking back on that Thursday evening, I could honestly say that I was past the stage of excuses, I

already knew the truth, I was just too stupid to see it.