Damon clutched the hibiscus flowers he'd brought for Lily tighter, as the tears streamed down his face. I lowered my head, unable to look at her grave. Guilt held me in its grip, never letting me go and I imagined her ghost
frowning at me.
"I'm sorry," I muttered under my breath as a tear fell.
Her death would forever haunt me, her smile and her eyes never leaving my memories.
"I'm sorry, Mom," Damon cried. "I couldn't protect you."
He fell to his knees, clutching his chest as he touched Lily's grave gently.
Lily Walker. Mother and darling wife, her gravestone read.
Darling wife?
I scoffed and stared at Alan. He stood behind Damon, watching him mourn. Two bodyguards stood on either side of him, huge and tall. I glanced to the right and counted the guards I could see.
Four.
Six stood on my left, three behind me, walking and talking on their mics. The whole place was crawling with Alan's goons.
