Bellissimo Rilascio (Family Trilogy #3)

By Leigh Ann Lunsford

When life’s light got so bright Bianca was blinded, she had to seep into the darkness in order to fight her way back. Surrounded by love so beautiful it was suffocating, she did the only thing she could to release the pain. One night changed the course of her life.

Shrouded in obscurity and difficult decisions, she chooses the only person that ever mattered. Desperate to prove herself worthy to those around her, she embarks on the path least expected launching into a journey she never anticipated.

With relationships hanging in the balance and uncertainty waiting with bated breath, Bianca plummets to the depths of despair in hopes of soaring with eagles.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Leigh Ann Lunsford
• Release date: Apr 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370824731

Leigh Ann Lunsford

Leigh Ann Lunsford is stay at home mom turned author. She writes Romance/New Adult and loves her happily ever after in all books and movies. She lives with her husband, son, and four dogs in Fleming Island, Florida. When she isn’t writing or reading you can find her stuck in front of really bad reality shows or watching Sons of Anarchy. Leigh Ann has a filthy mouth and a huge amount of sarcasm that knows no end. She hopes to give the voices in her head an outlet with many more novels to come. Social Media/Email: Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/la.lunsfordauthor Email: [e-mail] Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/25235051

Book preview

Prologue

Wedding

I smooth my hands down the ivory tulle surrounding my body. Deep breath. Dreams are made of every aspect of this day, and standing here waiting to walk down the aisle to the man who has possessed my heart for so long is my happily ever after . . . one journey is ending, and another one is beginning.

Getting here wasn’t an easy road. It wasn’t a path traveled without ease or for the faint of heart. Struggles. Tears. Pain. Betrayal. Anger. Our relationship was played out in front of all our friends and family, not many were left unscathed by events. The most important factor of all, the one which got us here . . . was love. Callie and Bronson were spot-on. It is that simple. Realizing that was like jumping without a parachute. I had to trust he would be there to catch me.

Trust. It didn’t come without tribulations. It was earned, broken, and it took us starting from zero to get here. We allowed our mistakes, our belief in one another to cleanse us. I’ve learned the hard way that perfection is all perception. What is perfect to me, won’t necessarily work for someone else, but I don’t have to live with his or her expectations. I live with my own realizations.

Bronson offers me his arm, Ready?

I feel like I’ve waited my entire life for this day.

In a way you have. I’m proud of you. It wasn’t the traditional route, but you clawed your way here, and you deserve the happiness waiting for you.

Traditional is overrated.

Let’s get this show started. I’m sure your groom is restless.

I bend down to slip on my shoes and gasp. Along the back, two pendants have been attached, and they each hold a picture of my father. The first is of him holding me the day I was born, the love radiating from his protective grasp and weeping eyes is my undoing. Make-up be damned. Looking to the left shoe, I remember that day. It was the last picture I remember taking with him. Prom night. He was so uncomfortable with his little girl all dressed up, and the looks he shot Dakota had him trembling in his dress shoes. I can’t stifle the giggle or muffle the sobs.

Bronson, did Callie do this? It’s beautiful. A way for my dad to walk me down the aisle at my wedding without him being here.

No. He smiles at me. That one word has me rushing through the door, dragging Bronson so I can get to my future husband.

The doors open, and my eyes meet his. His smile blinds me, his love draws me to him, and his devotion seals my fate. It’s him. It’s always been him. I begin the trek towards my ending, the one I wasn’t sure would happen. It is beyond everything I hoped for, everything I thought possible. Against all odds, we’re here.

Do you, Bianca Rose Agosto, take . . .?

Chapter One

Callie and Bronson’s Wedding

Every step I take leading me from him fractures my heart in different places while mending in others. The pieces I allowed him to break were welding back together, and what remained was splintered open. One foot in front of the other, pausing mid-step, my mind faltering, wavering if I wanted to complete this exit. Every limb feels like it weighs a ton, and it’s all settling in my stomach.

If I stay maybe I can work through my doubts.

If I leave maybe I can heal.

What if I could just find a common ground for us to rebuild our relationship?

What if I could just forget that one moment that derailed all we had built?

The endless possibilities aren’t enough to stop me. My hand reaches for the doorknob, and I can’t bring myself to turn it. I hate seeing the pain in his eyes, feeling the tears that still stain my body. He’s hurting, and all I ever wanted to do was bring him joy. It was supposed to be Dakota . . . he was supposed to be my forever. I gave him that, and he tossed it back.

Guilt gnaws at my conscience. I can’t intentionally hurt him, that makes me no better than him. I didn’t cheat; I’m not the one who ruined us. I don’t glance back; I turn the handle and step through the door. Looking back at his face after I’ve crossed the threshold is almost my undoing. He’s fallen to the floor, his stare cutting to the deepest part of me. I suck in a breath, stifle my sobs, and fight the urge to comfort him.

I whisper, Dakota, I’m not leaving you. I’m leaving us. I’m letting you go. We’re toxic. I thought you were my future, but I don’t want my ending to feel like this. He doesn’t hear me. I was only saying it for myself.

It was my way of releasing him.

I find Callie near the edge of the dance floor watching Bronson and Angelo steal the show. I search her face; I see the utter peace and contentment shining through. Her smile says it all . . . her life and heart are full. This is what evermore is supposed to be.

Not tears.

Not betrayal.

Not heartache.

Not confusion.

Definitely not agony so deep it seems as if there is no cure.

As much as I don’t want to leave my best friend and brother’s reception, I need to. I won’t torture us any longer. He’ll need our friends, and I’ll get through this. He may have set in motion the events that led us here, but it was my choice to make this permanent. My choice to end us.

Callie. I grip her shoulder. One look at my face and she knows. We don’t need words.

Binks, what happened? She is immediately focused, her reception forgotten, ready to console me.

It doesn’t matter. I hate to do this, but I have to go. Dakota will need y’all.

You need us, too. It isn’t one or the other in this situation. My champion. My best friend, always striving to be there for me.

He needs you more. The tears running down my face tell her otherwise, but I ignore it, along with her look of pity. I’m serious, Callie. I’ve never seen him like this. I have to go.

Nodding, she says, Then go. We’ve got this. I’m a phone call away, remember that.

I know, but there isn’t anything you can do. I promise, I’ll be fine.

No you won’t, but you’ll continue to tell yourself that. Nothing will ever be the same again. I gave up Dakota. I wasn’t able to get over the betrayal, and I lost Heath trying to hold onto my past.

My pain.

A fucked-up mess.

I’m sorry I ruined your day. If anyone deserved the perfect day, it was them.

"Nothing is ruined. We’re married, and our family is together. And you didn’t do this Binks, it was him. Nobody blames you." I blame myself; I don’t care if anyone else does.

Talk to you later. I wrap her in a hug, and as much as I want to break down in her embrace, I force myself to step back. I give her a smile, watery at best, and escape the reception. As much as I would love to curl up in my old bedroom, cry like a teenager, I can’t stay here. It’s filled with too many memories; the bad outweighs the good.

The media room where countless hours were spent wrapped in his arms.

The hallway where we shared stolen kisses.

The stairs where he held me while I mourned my dad.

The steps outside where Heath kissed me for the first time.

My lips still feel his.

How could something so true end so horridly? I get in my car and drive. With no destination in mind, I find myself in front of the hotel where I spent my first night with Dakota.

I walk in and request room 512. I am a glutton for punishment. In fact, glutton is my middle name right now. I climb on the bed, letting my hand reach out, my fingers sweeping over the soft sheets, and I close my eyes and reminisce.

His hands roaming my body, his lips tasting my skin, the love in his eyes.

The way he felt inside of me.

It all turns ugly. I see him inside her. I can’t control the emotions. Memories besiege me and a scream escapes my dry throat. I’m trying to purge them from my system. I want it all to end. I want this to stop. The recollections flood my mind, and it’s too much. I wonder if they stock razors here. I could make this end.

Forever.

Not my life, just this pain. I don’t want to die. I just want this turmoil inside me to stop. Release the physical ache and let the peace take hold. I need it. I crave it. I yearn to be serene again. For years it’s been push and pull, up and down with Dakota and my life, my needs, my wants have all taken a backseat. I used to be strong. Fearless. That girl disappeared, and in her place is someone who is weak. Someone indecisive. I don’t recognize this shadow. I don’t recognize myself.

I shouldn’t give him this power, but I relinquished it to him. I can’t take a full breath between the wracking sobs, and I feel lightheaded. Maybe if I close my eyes, it will all stop. One way or another.

I need solace.

I need relief.

I make my way to the bathroom and stare at myself, the reflection staring back at me a perfect stranger. One I loathe. I hastily tear through the drawers in the bathroom, seeking anything to ease this fear. Nothing is here. I ball my hand into a fist and punch the mirror in front of me. Once. Twice. Again. I want to make the person staring back at me disappear. I need a sharp object. The first slice of my skin is instant relief. It calms the chaos in my head, distracting me from the problems at hand. I need more. I’ve found a way to control the uncontrollable. I feel like I’m boiling inside. Over and over I pound into the glass my fist not strong enough to shatter the mirror. The voices and memories are still flowing throughout my head so I exert more force, all I have; finally, it cracks.

Splintered glass mirrors my splintered soul.

I fall to the ground, my hands bloody, and I’m numb.

Finally.

I watch the blood drip down my hand to my wrist, following the descent where it splatters to the bathroom tile.

It’s mesmerizing . . . cathartic in a way. Like the relationships I have; they start so rich and full of color like the blood trickling down my arm; but the beauty slowly disappears. I identify each crimson stream with a name of someone I have hurt or a memory of my own pain.

Who will survive?

Which relationships will be salvaged?

Lost in my own mind game, I don’t hear the pounding fists beating on the door. I don’t hear the barrage of questions being thrown at me. I watch it all happen, refusing to engage or give them answers. I don’t know who or what they want. The paramedics wrap my hands as my brother rushes in. Callie is close behind in hot pursuit. Her beautiful white dress swirls in her haste, floating like an angel. That’s what I want to be.

Invisible, yet present.

Saintly, not the demon I’ve become.

I close my eyes and say one last prayer, hoping God hears me this time.

Chapter Two

Heath

The wedding is tonight. I couldn’t throw the invitation out when it was delivered to me a few days after returning from Turks and Caicos. I couldn’t stop myself from memorizing the date; I stared at it every day wondering. Originally I was going to be Bianca’s plus one, instead it turns out I’m her nothing. My mind has conjured up scenarios . . . Dakota winning Bianca back, Bianca leaving Dakota, Bianca coming back for me. After two weeks, I can imagine the outcome I can’t bring myself to comprehend.

I lost her.

I walked out that night, hoping to force her hand. I wanted her to chase me, to choose me. Our entire relationship involved me pursuing and reassuring. This time I needed her to play that role.

I played a game, and I lost.

I do wish for her happiness, but I still believe it is me that will bring it to her. Her complexity baffles me…so many pieces dangling on a string, desperately needing to be put back together. I want to be that glue, the one she comes to when nothing else in her life is going right. I’m the one and nobody can convince me of anything else. Maybe she will find someone else, she may settle for Dakota, but that’s all it will ever be. Settling. I may fall in love with someone new, but she will hold that one piece of my heart reserved for my first love. The same fucking piece Dakota holds in hers, the one I can’t break through and make her let go . . . allow herself to be surrounded by my love. She is my Dakota.

Lynsey isn’t here tonight; she’s become my sounding board. Listening, without judgment. She doesn’t offer any advice either, but she is rooting for Bianca and me. I refused to go to the wedding, despite her trying. I couldn’t watch if there was a chance they would be together. I’m not prepared for that. I haven’t admitted defeat. Hours creep by, and it’s time to start clearing these people out, so I can lick my wounds in solitude. Tomorrow is another day, and I’ll get up and repeat it all over. I may be down, but I refuse to quit. Rolling over and playing dead is not an option. I don’t know how many days will pass where I feel the loss of her so fresh, but I know one day it will get easier, then another day easier yet again.

Time.

All I need is time, but it’s the one thing we aren’t promised.

I see Lynsey come tearing in the door, her eyes scanning the crowd, her face pale. I make a move just as her eyes find me. She’s rushing towards me, stumbling over her long dress, and I catch her before she face plants into the grimy floor. Whoa. Slow down there, speed racer.

We need to go. She’s trembling beneath my hands, her breath ragged, and her eyes filled with tears. I’ve never seen her anything but strong, poised, put together. This version of her frightens me. One too many times I had to see this while growing up. The fear clawing at your skin, innocence fleeing when the family came tearing in to break down what they held dear.

Lynsey, what’s wrong?

Bianca.

That one word.

That one name.

Glasses clink together in the wash bin, the soles of shoes stick to the floor as people are rushing, completing their tasks.

Frozen.

I take in what little information she has offered. Everything is closing in.

What about Bianca? I manage to choke. Sweat beads on my forehead causing my hair to stick. I don’t know what’s happened to her. I just know it’s bad. Lynsey’s appearance, her seeking me, and the lifestyle we grew up with. If one of my father’s enemies has come back with a score to settle, the debt will not end with her. I’ll kill any bastard who hurts her.

Hospital. I got a call from Callie, she says hurriedly. I have a hard time following them, but I do hear, Blood. Not responding.

I don’t bother answering her or listening to anything else. I have an urgent need inside me to get to her.

See her.

Feel her breath against me.

Lynsey is following me, her sniffles in close proximity. What hospital?

Largo. It’s a twenty-minute drive, and I can make it in ten if she hurries the fuck up.

I don’t slow; I don’t let anyone know where I’m going. Jumping in my car, I find the quickest route to get to her. I park, not caring if I get towed, and search the waiting area in the Emergency Room for a familiar face. Bronson and Gianna wait nervously. I know Callie is close, and that asshole doesn’t seem to be here. Bronson’s eyes bulge at the sight of me. Where is she?

Getting treated. Calm down, Heath. She’ll be okay.

What the fuck happened?

I don’t know. She left the reception, and next thing I know, the hotel is calling the house phone saying police and ambulances had been called. The staff heard screaming and shattering glass and couldn’t get her to answer the door.

Jesus. Why?

He averts my gaze, and I see him swallow. Not my story, but I’m thinking it’s bad. There was blood all over her, they cleaned her up, but as far as I could see, her hands were the only things damaged. She punched a mirror in the bathroom until it broke.

I’ve never known her to exhibit violence. Pissed off . . .sure, but viciousness is not something in her repertoire. Dakota. He nods even though I wasn’t asking; I knew the answer. Fuck, when will he finally stop hurting her? Where is he?

At the house.

Are you kidding me? He does this and doesn’t follow through to see if she’s going to be okay. He may be your best friend, but he’s a dick.

He doesn’t know. He’s passed out. It was pretty bad for him, whatever happened.

You said it was her hands. Why is she here?

She closed her eyes and wouldn’t respond when we got there. Doctors say she didn’t lose enough blood to cause her to be unconscious, but there could be plenty of factors. They think she’s been through trauma, and her mind is trying to heal. Too much for her to deal with. His pained stare meets mine, the aftermath of everything his sister has been through weighing heavily on him.

She can’t give into this. She has to fight through it. My voice is pleading, but I don’t know whom I’m begging. Bronson, God, Bianca, or myself.

I missed so much. I was wrapped up in my own life. I encouraged her to forgive Dakota if she could. She scared the hell out of me. I couldn’t get her to respond. It’s like I watched my sister disappear in front of me. His eyes wander to the clock on the wall, the stress leaking out of his words, and the blame worn like a badge of armor.

I want to see her.

Once she regains consciousness they’ll allow visitors. I level my stare at him.

I. Want. To. See. Her. Imagine if that was Callie. We don’t have a problem, but you try to stop me, we will. He releases a resigned breath and walks to the nurse’s station. After a few seconds, he sweeps his arm towards the door, giving me the signal to go through. I nod my head as I pass, not so much as a thank you but an acknowledgement for not fucking with me.

Bed seven. He walks back towards his mom, and Callie comes around the corner holding Angelo in her arms. She looks shocked to see me but doesn’t say anything, just watches me as I stride towards Bianca’s room.

I open her door, tripping on my own feet when I focus on her. An audible gasp escapes me.

Chapter Three

Dakota

It’s still cloudy how I woke up in my hotel room. I have no recollection of anything past watching her walk out the door. Ending our future. That moment stays with me, like a movie reel stuck on the ending. I scrub my face, making sure to get soap and water in my eyes in the hopes I can quit focusing, quit seeing the story of us. Loud pounding overshadows the constant ring of my phone. It’s been going off for the past hour, along with the room phone, and I’ve successfully ignored both, but this has taken it too far. Take a hint. I didn’t answer my phone - that’s a clear sign I don’t want to be bothered, so who the fuck is interrupting my self-imposed solace by waking the entire hotel? I yank open the door to Callie; tears stain her face, eyes blood shot from lack of sleep, hair disheveled, white dress stained with blood.

Blood. My breathing falters. W-wh-what happened?

You happened, Dakota. You ruined her. You did this. Callie's voice catches on her sobs.

Bianca.

Blood.

No.

I swallow the lump in my throat, Callie, what happened?

Fuck if I know. You broke her, though. Her spirit is gone. Her heart hurts. Her mind succumbed to the misery last night. Bronson got a call after dropping your miserable ass off last night that Bianca was in danger. She had checked herself into the room where she spent her first night with you. My breath hitches, and my focus is solely on the red stain. We got there after the ambulance. She spent the night floating in and out of consciousness.