Rita's Point Of View
I stood there, paralyzed, my eyes nearly bulging from their sockets as I stared at the sight before me. This was the man who had loomed over my nightmares for twenty-five years, the man I'd assumed was living a life of leisure and cruelty while I scrubbed floors and checked price tags on baby formula.
And here he was… Charles Silvestro, the prince of a dark empire kneeling on the ground as though lightning had struck him down. The contrast between what I'd imagined and what I now witnessed made my head spin.
Then he did something that made my stomach perform a nauseating flip. He began crawling toward me. On his knees. Like a penitent approaching an altar, except I was no saint, and this was no church.
