Married To The Mafia: Book II

25 - The One Who Killed Goliath.

"Are you okay?"

Devlin snapped out of the fog that had clouded his brain and looked up at Pamela. She was watching him with concern.

Was he okay? He sure as hell wasn't but he nodded. He was in another world entirely. It was neither painful nor pain free. It was just... numb, in a painful way.

It was Vivian's funeral and he hadn't in a million years thought he would feel the sadness that he was feeling. He had hated this woman for fuck's sakes. He'd wanted to kill her himself. Why was he then feeling this way?

"Are you sure you don't want to read the note?" She asked.

He shook his head, then Pamela placed a soothing hand on his leg, caressing him and he placed his hand on hers and squeezed it.

"Dev, I think reading the note will help you heal. If she cursed or blessed you or wished you'd never been born, it will help you find closure."

"No, babe, I just -- I don't think I can bring myself to."

She nodded in understanding and they turned to watch Timothy read a speech about his mother. He was weeping unabashedly as he read. It was heart rending to watch.

Lilian hadn't come to the funeral but Devlin had listened as she wept over the phone when he'd broken the news to her. He understood how she felt. To a tee. She might have hated her mother but her death was another thing entirely.

Timothy had met with Devlin's return with a mixture of relief and wariness and had had tons of questions, but as they were both in mourning, they had been nothing but civil to each other and Devlin had done his best to be the most supportive big brother he could be.

The funeral came and went. Well wishers flocked in by the number. They were all shocked that the strong, healthy Vivian Campbell could take her own life. They shook their head in sorrow and bemoaned the tragic end to the always-smiling philanthropist whom thousands had envied and emulated in the same breath. They all promised to check on one another because no one knows who was going through something. It was sad that it took a person's death to create the awareness.

In the evening, after the condolence callers had all left, Pamela and Fiona were helping the maids clean out while Devlin was in his father's study. A drink in hand, he looked up at the huge picture of his dad and young, smiling, vibrant Vivian hung up on one side of the wall. Despite the fact that Vivian had remarried, she'd left the picture where it was. That said a lot.

He turned when he heard approaching footsteps. It was Timothy. Devlin used the opportunity to take in how much his little brother had grown. Timothy had had a very small stature as a kid and had been bullied a lot. Devlin remembered coming to his rescue all the time.

Once, Timothy had come back home in tears. He said a kid had called him a "summarized human being" and had stuck his head into a trash bin. The kid was a notorious bully known as Big Sam and Devlin had been looking for ways to teach him a lesson.

When all was said and done, Devlin had left Big Sam with a broken nose and one black eye. Devlin had been suspended for two weeks but he'd been more than satisfied because the kid never bothered Timothy after that. He wondered how Timothy survived after he left.

The Timothy making his way towards him was a far cry from the rail-thin, scared boy from years ago. Timothy was tall; about Devlin's height, he had strong, firm muscles and he was very handsome. Devlin was proud of him. Timothy stood beside him and they both looked up at the picture.

"I miss him." Devlin said quietly.

Timothy chuckled. "I don't even remember him."

"Me neither. I was about four when he died."