I feel like an executioner walking the condemned up the creaky wooden stage to the noose.

Sure, Elena isn’t the one whose life I’m going to take, and my executioner’s hood is invisible, but I imagine I’m feeling the same ancient sense of doom and guilt executioners did.

But justice must be carried out. Otherwise, what kind of a world would this be?

The sun has disappeared outside, and the sky has turned a dark shade of purple. The car frame slices the warm street lights that spill inside, casting a yellow glow on our laps for a short moment at a time.

“Damon,” Elena says quietly, breaking her silence.

“Yeah?” I glance at her. She’s wearing her red dress and black jacket again, but her face is sober, in stark contrast to her girlish excitement when I picked her up from the airport.

Before the night ends, her heart will be broken.

The longer she spends with me, the more pain I’ll inflict on her. I wish that weren’t the case.

Yet, the plan must go on. I decided on that a long time ago, and it would be a big mistake to change my mind over a girl. I’d regret that for the rest of my life.

“Have you made a decision?” she asks.

“About what?”I feign ignorance.

“When I asked you what you were going to do to my dad. You said you hadn’t decided yet.”

The muted hum of the car engine fills the silence.

I can’t think of a single thing to say to Elena to make her feel better. I’ve seen the way she looks at me. I’m not blind. I know she has feelings for me.

Her lover is about to kill her father. Do the words exist that will make her feel like that’s not a big deal, like that’s not going to leave a life-long scar for her?

“Damon, I need to know,” she says. “I wanted to ask you before this, and I don’t know why I didn’t. Maybe I was afraid of what the answer would be. But now, I need to know.”

I rented this car mainly because my bike would be too conspicuous. Also, to be honest, I was hoping to have one last conversation with Elena, maybe give her some closure, let her know this isn’t about her.

Yes, I’m using her to get to her dad. But despite that, I care about her. I always have, even back when we were just kids. It never seemed appropriate, so I killed those feelings.

Now that I’ve had an intoxicating taste of what we could be, forgetting this whole thing will be the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do.

Maybe this rental car wasn’t such a good idea after all. Conversation won’t do anyone any good. I should’ve gagged Elena from the moment she arrived at my apartment until after I’ve carried out my whole plan.

“Damon. Please.” Elena puts her hand on mine and strokes my forearm.

“He’ll have to pay for what he’s done, princess,” I say finally.

“What does that mean?” she asks. “Do you mean the money and the clubs? Or do you mean you’ll kill him?”

I remain silent. I don’t want to torture her by keeping her in suspense. But would it really be better for her to know for sure that her dad will die at my hands?

Her grip on my forearm tightens. “Damon, I know he’s a bad person. I’m his daughter, and I know that. But maybe there’s a different way to punish him.”

I glance at Elena and notice tears have welled up in her eyes. Even though I know she’ll shed even more tears tonight, I can’t help but feel my chest tighten at the sight.

Maybe I should’ve gotten Giovanni to take Elena to the meeting place—not Antonio because he would’ve scared her and maybe even touched her inappropriately, but Giovanni would’ve made a better escort than me.

“Damon. Is there anything I can do to change your mind?” she asks again, her hand slipping onto my thigh.

Anger flares up within me. “Get your hands off me.”

With a jump, Elena pulls back and sits firmly on her side.

“Don’t act like you only did what you did to bargain for your dad’s safety. You know you wanted it. You know you liked it. I know it too.” I shut my mouth.

I’ve said too much. I should’ve been able to control myself. But I can’t stand the thought that everything that has happened between us could be a lie, that she only did everything she did to bargain for her father’s life.

It was real. Despite the circumstances, it was all real. I need to believe that for the sake of my sanity.

After my parents died, I’d been feeling numb. I tried everything—alcohol, drugs, women—but nothing worked. Ever since I learned the truth from one of my dad’s closest friends, only my plans of vengeance could help me get through the days.

Elena feels like a breath of fresh air. When she’s around, I no longer feel like a walking zombie. I notice the warmth of the sun, the brightness of her smile, the gentleness of her touch . . .

“Sorry, Damon,” Elena says softly. Her voice is small.

It breaks my heart that she’s afraid of me, but what other kind of outcome did I expect?

“You are going to kill him, aren’t you?” she asks.

Ignoring her question, I park the car by the curb and turn off the engine. “We’re here.”