Page 6 of A Touch of Fate

I glanced at a photo of Domenico leaning against the coffin’s bottom.

He had his arms around Renato and Arlo. Enea was beside Arlo, and I had been beside Renato in the photo, but I wasn’t now.

Someone had cut me out. I didn’t blame them.

“There’s a difference, Renato. I wasn’t their Capo.

I was their friend, and they were doing me a favor.

They trusted my plan, and I failed them. ”

Renato shook his head. “They knew of the plan before you went to Las Vegas. They thought it was a good plan. I would have followed you there too if I hadn’t been in Chicago.”

Three of my friends had followed me, no questions asked, to save my twin sister from the hands of our worst enemy.

Renato wasn’t dead like the others because he’d been on another mission in Chicago with his father so he couldn’t join me.

“Come on, let’s have a drink. You need one.”

One drink wouldn’t be enough. I followed Renato out of the crypt and closed the gates.

We went to our favorite bar and settled in one of their VIP rooms on the red satin armchairs with lion-clawed feet.

I ordered a Negroni, my poison of choice, and took a big gulp.

I let my head fall against the headrest and briefly closed my eyes.

Arlo’s shocked face flashed before my eyes as he died by Remo Falcone’s knife. He was gone in a blink, the kindest of all three deaths.

Then it was Enea’s face that popped up. His expression was a mix of surprise and pain when my knife buried itself in his stomach.

My face had probably mirrored the same emotions.

My stab had been aimed at Remo, but he’d pulled Enea up by the collar and used him as his shield.

Enea hadn’t died right away. It took a few painful gasps and intakes of breaths before he passed away.

I wished I could have held him in his last moments, but I’d fought for my life against the madman from Vegas.

And the last one…Domenico’s face materialized before my closed eyelids like a grotesque wax figure from a horror cabinet.

Even in death, his face had been twisted with agony from hours of torture by the hand of the Falcones.

Most of my nightmares revolved around him.

I’d been witness to torture before and had been tortured myself, but rarely any of it replayed in my dreams. Yet seeing a friend being tortured to death because he wanted to help me?

Fuck, that haunted me every night and sometimes by day too. I doubted that would get better, even as the years passed. My foolish plan had robbed my friends of the chance to marry, grow old, and have a family.

And had it brought me Serafina back? I didn’t save her that day, and later, when she’d finally returned to us, I’d realized that truly saving her from Falcone’s grip was impossible.

“How’s your sister?” Renato asked after a while.

I opened my eyes. “Always tired. The twins suck the life out of her.”

Renato shook his head. “Still can’t believe she kept them.”

It was a topic we’d discussed plenty of times before.

I nodded but didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to think of Remo Falcone’s offspring, not on a day when I mourned the friends he’d killed.

It was difficult because they looked exactly like him, and nothing like Fina, who had blond hair and blue eyes like me.

“I’m going to marry Danilo Mancini’s sister,” I said casually. The agreement had happened nine months ago, but I’d kept it to myself so far.

Renato sat up straight in his chair, his brows shooting up. “Wheelchair girl?”

I scowled. “Emma Mancini is her name, and I expect you to treat her with the necessary respect, considering she’s my future wife.”

“Sure, but how did this happen?” Renato opened his arms, palms pointing my way, demanding an explanation.

“It’s a deal between Danilo and my family.”

“Don’t tell me that happened back when Sofia was promised to him?”

I took another sip from my drink before I nodded. Renato leaned forward and shoved my knee so hard that I almost spilled my Negroni.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me before?”

“Too much going on. It didn’t seem important at the time.”

Renato scoffed. “Not important? You’re talking about the woman you have to spend the rest of your life with.”

“It’s still a while before I can marry her.” I shrugged.

Renato mimicked my shrug with a pissed expression. He shook his head and sank back against the headrest. “Really?” He shook his head again. “Fuck. That’s hard.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Come on, you could have married anyone, and you get the girl who Cincinatti left at the altar.”

“They canceled the engagement, Renato. There’s a difference.”

“They canceled the engagement because she’s in a wheelchair, Samuel.”

“That was dishonorable and tasteless,” I muttered. “I can’t see why her being in a wheelchair gave them the right to cancel the engagement.”

“Yet most people got it and would probably have done the same if their only son had been promised to the girl.”

“I won’t leave her at the altar,” I said matter-of-factly. I didn’t know anything about Emma, except that Sofia liked her very much and that she was apparently very kind.

“Sometimes you’re too honorable for your own good.”

I emptied the rest of my drink. I wouldn’t have chosen Emma for various reasons.

Her wheelchair was one of them. But not in the way Renato probably suspected.

A wife in a wheelchair was another level of responsibility I didn’t want to have.

Fuck, I’d gotten three good friends killed.

Being responsible for anyone, especially someone as vulnerable as Emma, wasn’t something I was really keen on.

And there was the matter of needing to create an heir at some point.

As the eldest son and future Underboss, I was expected to produce offspring.

If rumors could be believed, Emma wouldn’t be able to give me any.

But that was a worry for the future, and I never made a habit out of trusting rumors anyway.

Renato nudged me again. “Don’t get lost in your shitty thoughts again. Let’s have a few more drinks and then go to a club to let off some steam.”

Getting shit-faced sounded like a good plan.