Page 40 of Deathless & Divided

Lily blew out a shaky breath. “You still haven’t told me why you’re doing this.”

“I did. Because I have to.”

“That’s a non-answer,” Lily pointed out.

Maybe so, but it was the best he could give for now.

“You’re looking at a pretty decent future if you would just quit fucking fighting it, Lily DeLuca.”

Lily blinked, a soberness clearing her vision. “Actually, I’m looking at you, Damian.”

“And I am not that bad of a choice, considering the men you could have been married off to.”

“Maybe so,” Lily agreed. “I still didn’t get any say in the matter.”

“There’s no maybe about it, sweetheart. Give me a little bit of time, and I’ll give you back everything you need.”

“That’s a pretty heavy promise,” she said. “And this life does nothing but break them, Damian.”

“Do I fucking look like a fairy godmother to you? I’m not handing out wishes, Lily.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly wish for this, did I?”

“Exactly,” Damian replied. “So make the best of it.”

Damian cut the lights to his Porsche and let the car roll down the quiet, dark street. Checking his phone, he could see none of the sensors inside his apartment had gone off, meaning Lily was still safe and sleeping in his bed where he left her hours earlier.

If all went well, he would be back at his place before she even woke up with her none the wiser that he left.

The east side Chicago neighborhood was quiet for it being early morning. Most of the homes in the middle-class suburb were still dark as the sun had yet to rise. No one liked to be up before dawn, after all. With the sun still below the horizon, the roads offered little light but for the street lamps up above.

Damian found a place to park his Porsche, cut the engine, and waited.

Sometimes, his job was all about the wait.

Terrance had probably wondered why the hit hadn’t already taken place, but the boss knew better than to question Damian’s motives and choices when it came to carrying out business. Damian did it on his terms and his time so the job was done correctly and without fuss.

Damian didn’t plan on spending his life behind bars.

No other man’s life was worth that price.

He’d watched the Poletti man for a good week. The guy had a variance of routines between working some schemes, running between his favorite places, and making his way home every night. Damian had taken note of the fact the guy had no wife or girlfriend and probably no children. The guy hadn’t visited any during the week, anyway.

Damian hoped this little lesson Terrance wanted taught to Joel did the job. Senseless deaths were just that—senseless and useless.

Regardless, Damian let his thoughts and feelings on the matter bleed away so he could do the hit, get the fuck home, and start the day out fresh. It was always better if he didn’t let this kind of nonsense work its way into his conscience.

The mafia was what it was. Death came hand in hand with living the life.

Damian was no exception and neither was anyone else.

No one was deathless in this world.

As a light turned on down the street, illuminating a split-level home and the front yard, Damian leaned over in his seat and opened the glove compartment. He pulled out the glock he’d chosen for the job, checked the clip, slid it back in, and turned off the safety.

James Poletti pulled his hood over his head and did a few minutes of stretches on his small front porch. Damian rolled down the window on the passenger side of his Porsche, letting the late June air wash through his car. The breeze was just enough to keep the mugginess down to a bearable temperature with the AC in Damian’s car turned off.

Before long, James Poletti started his usual morning jog down the dark street. Damian had wanted to do the job at another location, but this one worked just as well.