Azalea Faye Larau - The sweetheart socialite with a fire underneath and an up and coming ballet dancer in London striving to stay afloat in an ocean of sharks, all the while dealing with heartbreak and loss.
Harlan Emeric Marchetti - The Italian Maf...
"I was her sin. She was my salvation. And every line in between was our fairytale."
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- H A R L A N - E M E R I C - M A R C H E T T I -
The man in front us was smug, casually holstering his gun and tossing a smirk around like he didn't just nearly get my wife killed. I felt every muscle in my body lock up as my gaze focused on him, every instinct screaming that something was wrong. I didn't trust him, not one bit.
The word brother had hit me like a punch to the gut. I froze, my chest tightening and a cold wave of disbelief crashing over me. He couldn't be here. He couldn't be alive.
I hadn't seen or heard from Harvey in over five years, not since that day. And yet here he was, standing in front of me as if nothing had changed, as if he hadn't just risen from the dead.
I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out at first. I stared at him, my heart hammering in my chest, my mind struggling to grasp what I was seeing.
The man in front of me, this stranger wearing my brother's face, was grinning like he'd just found a treasure hidden under the floorboards.
I had never been more unsure of my life, but I had to keep it together.
I exhaled a slow, steady breath and nodded at Isaac and Ramiro, who were hovering a few steps behind me, their gaze sharp and filled with suspicion. Without a word, Isaac moved forward, gripping Harvey by the arm and dragging him toward the exit as discreetly as he could.
I didn't move. I couldn't.
I needed to process this, to make sense of it. Harvey. Alive. But how? Why? Was this a trick? Was this part of something bigger I didn't understand?
Azalea's voice snapped me out of my haze.
"Harlan?" She whispered softly, her words shaking me to my core. She pulled back just enough to look up at me, her amethyst eyes wide with worry, still trembling in my arms. Her face was pale, her skin dotted with blood where I hadn't wiped it away.
I took a deep breath and swallowed, trying to steady myself.
"I—" I started, but nothing came out. My jaw tightened as I rubbed a hand across my face.
Get it together.
"Are you okay?" She asked softly, her voice full of concern. Her hands were tentative on my chest, as if she wasn't sure if she should be the one comforting me or if I was the one who should be taking care of her.
I shook my head, blinking rapidly to gather my thoughts as I took a deep breath.
"My brother's alive." I muttered, the words feeling alien on my tongue. I could barely believe it myself.
