Page 15 of Beautiful Torment (Empire of Kings #1)

ABELLA

N atalia escorts me through the parking garage to my waiting car while the men walk behind us, conversing amongst themselves.

Though the IVI compound has an abundance of guards bustling about, mine seems to be noticeably absent.

It’s odd, considering the man has been breathing down my neck every chance he gets.

Natalia seems to sense my unease, and she frowns when my driver gets out. Ugo always wears a grim expression on his face, but today he seems especially tense. He’s an older man, and though he’s not much for conversation, I’ve always liked him.

Today seemed to be quite the shock for you , Natalia signs. I didn’t realize you and Angelo knew each other. Although I suppose it makes sense.

I glance over her shoulder to find Angelo’s dark gaze on mine, and a spark of electricity shoots through me.

I’m not sure how it’s possible to feel a man’s stare in such a visceral way, but heat claws at my insides as if he’s willing me to burn beneath those dark flames.

For a second, I find myself comparing his stature to the man in the skull mask.

The similarities are there, though I’m not sure whether they’re real or imagined. Reluctant to end six long years of sobriety, I break eye contact and turn my attention back to Natalia. How long have you known him?

She thinks about it for a moment. It must be close to a year and a half. I first met him when I started working for Alessio.

Her response catches me off guard and triggers a cascade of unwanted emotions. Angelo’s been free that entire time…and I had no idea.

That realization is another rejection I don’t want to acknowledge.

How many times did I try to visit him in prison, only to be escorted out by the guards?

How many letters did I write that he refused?

He stonewalled his entire family, and I can’t wrap my head around the idea that he’s been casually spending time with Alessio and Natalia while everyone else worried about him.

I wasn’t aware he’s been out that long , I admit, not sure what else to say.

Natalia searches my eyes. She has questions, but now isn’t the time to ask them.

Alessio may be the only one present who can understand ASL, but that doesn’t mean anything amongst our circle.

There are cameras in this parking garage, and anyone who really wanted to know what we’re discussing could easily get that footage and have it transcribed.

I don’t know all the details, Natalia explains . It’s been kept quiet, much like his mystery engagement.

My stomach drops at that remark.

“Engagement?” I whisper the word under my breath, as if I somehow misunderstood her.

Natalia nods. He’s getting married soon, which is strange, considering I haven’t even met the bride. But Alessio tells me she’s the perfect match for him.

Nausea works its way up my throat, but I choke it back down as I steal another glance at Angelo.

I have no right to feel any sort of way about him moving on with his life.

It was always what he was supposed to do.

I just didn’t think I’d have to wait so long to see it happen, and despite what I’d hoped, time hasn’t made the prospect any easier to swallow.

Natalia reaches out to touch my arm, drawing my attention back to her. Are you okay?

I force a smile, tempted to ask more, but those questions will have to wait. We have a lot to catch up on , I sign. We’ll have some time before the wedding. Maybe we can talk then.

She nods in understanding before she glances around the garage in question. Where is your guard?

I don’t know , I admit. He seems to have disappeared .

Her features morph into concern, a testament to how much she’s adapted to this life. I still remember what an adjustment it was for her to have a guard with her at all times. Now, she can’t fathom the idea of me being without one.

Take one of ours , she suggests. You need someone to see you back to the island .

That’s not necessary , I tell her. I have Ugo, and I’m sure Tony will be along any moment now .

“Natalia,” Alessio calls out to her as the baby wriggles in his arms. “I believe it’s Madalena’s feeding time.”

Go. I shoo her off with a smile. We’ll talk soon.

She returns to her family, and they head to their car, leaving me to face Angelo and the man who’s been shadowing him most of the day.

I don’t recognize him, but there’s no question about his affiliation.

All the elements are there from the slicked back hair, leather jacket, gold chain, and of course, the signet ring on his pinky finger.

It’s customary for men in ‘the family’ to ensure we’re all sent off safely, but it hardly feels like that’s the intention behind this standoff.

A long moment of silence passes as Angelo’s gaze moves over me. His face gives nothing away, but his cold words from earlier have left their mark on me.

“You’re free to leave,” he tells me. “Or do you prefer to stand here and stare at each other all day?”

I flinch inwardly. As much as I don’t want to admit it, his frostiness stings.

Gathering what’s left of my pride, I turn and face the car.

“Miss Moretti.” Ugo nods at me, discomfort edging his voice as he opens the back passenger door.

It isn’t until I see what’s waiting for me inside that I understand his demeanor.

Tony’s lifeless body is slumped against the opposite door, his face bloodied and his skin ashen. His limbs are already secured with cement blocks and heavy rope, which can only mean one thing.

I turn to glare at Angelo. “Seriously?”

He shrugs, and that’s the extent of his reaction. I can’t even say I’m shocked.

There’s an unwritten rule in the Cosa Nostra to shield women from violence, but sometimes things don’t work out that way.

I was nine years old the first time I saw my father shoot a man.

He told me I’d get used to the smell of blood, and he was right.

In our world, there’s always the possibility someone could be here one minute and gone the next.

And while I didn’t particularly like Tony, I didn’t want to see his corpse draped across the backseat of my car either.

“What offense warranted this?” I demand.

“He was inept at his job, and I was tired of him breathing,” Angelo answers dryly. “Take note, Abella. It really is that simple.”

While I want to believe his threat is all bark, I know this man loves to bite.

He was a menace to society before he went to prison, but the man who’s returned is a whole different animal.

Beneath that armor of civility, something brutal lurks.

One look in his eyes, and I can see he wants to burn the world.

He didn’t just come back here for his throne. He came for his revenge.

“And what am I supposed to tell my father about Tony?” I ask.

“Tell him he went on a permanent vacation.” Angelo’s lip curves up at one corner.

There was a time when I swore there was nothing as beautiful as Angelo Vitale’s smile. It was a rare and private gift he shared with only the most privileged of people, and I was one of them. Now, I can’t help but feel like he’s using it to mock me.

“I…” The incomplete thought leaves my lips before I can stop it, and heat rushes over my face as Angelo stares at me with nothing less than derision.

“I would tell you to use your words.” He checks his watch, effectively dismissing me. “But as riveting as this reunion has been, I have other plans. Nicky will see you home.”

Without sparing me another glance, he walks away.

I’m still standing there like an idiot when his henchman gestures for me to get in the car. Like a true gentleman, he offers me the front seat so I don’t have to ride next to the corpse. At least I have that going for me.

Ugo drives us to the private marina, where we pass through security, and the men have a brief conversation about which vessel is most suitable for the Tony situation.

Between the Morettis and the Vitales, we have an entire fleet to choose from—everything from cruisers to pontoons to water taxis and super yachts.

Failing all of those options, there are also seaplanes and helicopters available.

After Nicky and Ugo come to a decision, I board the Vitale catamaran and opt for the privacy of the flybridge. Even so, it does little to blunt the sound of the heavy thud Tony’s body makes when it’s tossed onto the deck below.

A few minutes pass while the men prepare, and I sit alone with my thoughts until Giulia, the Vitale stewardess, appears.

“Miss Moretti, can I offer you an aperitivo for the journey?”

“Thank you, Giulia. I would love a spritz.”

She flashes me a knowing smile before she retreats to the galley.

Like me, she’s well practiced at the art of dissociation.

When she returns, she serves me an Aperol spritz and a plate of olives, crisps, cheese, and salami.

I thank her and settle in for the forty-five-minute journey to Black Stag Island, mentally checking out as I enjoy my drink.

Halfway through, the vessel slows momentarily before there’s a splash, and we continue onward. I don’t have to look back to know Tony’s on his way to the bottom of Puget Sound.

I close my eyes, and a thousand scattered thoughts compete for my attention.

At the forefront of my mind is Angelo’s return.

He’s the heir to the Vitale legacy, and that changes everything.

Now that he’s free, the burden of maintaining the Stavros treaty will fall upon him as soon as his father passes.

It will be his responsibility to marry, rather than Matteo’s, which explains why he’s already secured an engagement.

As I recall his parting remark, I wonder if his other plans are related to the woman he chose.

Against my better judgment, I take out my phone and pull up Matteo’s contact. Angelo warned me not to tell him about our paths crossing, but that doesn’t mean things can continue as they are. We need to have a conversation and find a way to call off this wedding before I’m exiled from the state.

I send him a text telling him we need to talk, and he reads my message, but again, he doesn’t respond.

Since he popped up and forced my hand into this marriage, I haven’t even seen him.

He’s ignoring me, and yet, I know he’s been getting back to Valentina regarding all her questions for the wedding.

It’s really starting to grate on me. Matteo has always been conflict-avoidant, but this is just childish.

I type out at least ten additional texts before deleting or rewording them, trying to figure out what to say to get his attention.

“I wouldn’t do that, Miss Moretti. Boss won’t like it.”

I jump in my seat as I turn to find Nicky lurking over my shoulder.

“I didn’t tell him about Angelo,” I mutter. “Why are you spying on me?”

“It’s my job.” He shrugs. “Boss’s orders. I’m your guard until he says otherwise.”

“My guard?” I stare at him incredulously. “I already have a guard, and my father isn’t just going to let you waltz into the house. You do know that, right?”

“No offense, but your guard is on his way out to the Pacific right about now,” he answers with a chuckle. “Don’t worry about the logistics with your father. I’ve got it handled.”

I stuff my phone back into my purse and save my breath on an argument. I don’t know this man, but that makes little difference. All I need to know is he’s here to do his boss’s bidding. And if there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that when Angelo gives his men an order, it’s always executed.