Page 12

Chapter Twelve

Enrique

Ellie and I pull apart, and I push her behind me as I spin toward the man’s voice.

Shock.

It’s what I feel, and it’s what’s clearly on the man’s face.

“Enrique Diaz? That’s who the fu—hell you’re dating?”

Ellie tries to step around me, but I hold out my arm. That makes her son lift his as though he’ll reach behind him.

“William Vizzini is your son?”

What the fuck is going on? Who the hell is the woman I’m sleeping with? The one I’ve fallen for? Is this Daniela all over again?

Pain stabs through my chest.

The betrayal.

“Stop. Both of you.”

Ellie pushes my hand out of the way and steps around me. She walks to her son, and he gives her a quick hug. She walks back to my side, watching me, nervous.

She should be. But I also hate that she fears me. That’s not what I want. She stops in front of me, our gazes locked.

“Will, you didn’t know until just now, did you?”

“Of course not. He wouldn’t be in your kitchen, and he sure as shi—shooting wouldn’t have been kissing you.”

He catches himself twice. He doesn’t swear in front of his mom. Good.

“Have I told you anything about him beyond his name’s Enrique?”

“No. Last I heard, you didn’t even know his last name. Did you before I said it just now?”

“Yes.”

I don’t like the insinuation, but Ellie’s expression warns me to remain quiet.

“Will, didn’t I tell you not to dig around?”

“Yeah. Did you tell us that after you knew who he was?”

“No. I didn’t want you boys prying into anyone’s private life.”

She’s going to hate learning how much digging I did into hers.

“Enrique, what do you think my name is?”

“Think?”

“Yes. What’s my name?”

“Elodie McCann.”

When Will shifts, and my gaze flies to him, she whirls around, stepping in front of me.

“I’m not shooting him if he’s not touching you, Mom. You really haven’t told him anything, have you?”

“No. Why do you think he’s so shocked a Vizzini’s standing in my kitchen? Why do you think you’re so shocked a Diaz is standing in my kitchen?”

“He was doing a lot more than standing, Mom.”

“Get used to it.”

She doesn’t quite snap at him, but it makes him jerk his chin back. The oven timer goes off, and I’m closer. I grab oven mitts while Ellie walks up to her son again. I can’t hear what she whispers, but he nods.

“We wanted to be sure you got home safely.”

I barely hear Will, but I catch what he says. Five minutes ago, I would’ve thought it was the normal question you ask when you know someone was traveling. Now it probably means something entirely different.

She doesn’t keep her voice down now, and she looks over at me before turning back to Will. I set the quiche on a trivet and put the mitts down. I want to wrap my arm around her again and stake a claim. But that’s utterly prehistoric and likely to cause a war with the first battlefield in Ellie’s house.

“Will, what are you doing here instead of Boston?”

“I have a meeting.” He stares at his mom.

Probably Salvatore Mancinelli.

“Don’t say anything to Tommaso yet. I haven’t fully debriefed him, and he definitely knows nothing about this. At least, I don’t think so. Did you learn anything about the gate guard?”

“My friend did some digging first thing this morning. He doesn’t know who the guy is. He’s not one of ours.”

I know far more about Will than I want Ellie to realize. He knows way more about me than I wish he did. I’m lucky I’m breathing after he caught me kissing his mother. Most sons would’ve put a bullet through my skull.

“Are you going to tell Steve and Hunt, Mom?”

“Of course. I’d hoped to tell you all together.”

“When was that going to be?”

“I’d hoped to go a little longer, but—” She looks at me. “—it can’t wait. I was going to tell Enrique over breakfast. I planned to have Hunt bring Constantine back, and we’d video call you and Steve.”

“I think I better tell them. Tommaso will lose his mind. Dad’ll?—”

“Dad’ll do nothing.”

The steel in Ellie’s voice makes Will back down. I see it in his eyes even if nothing else changes about him. It’s not fear—at least not of her. He doesn’t want to hurt her.

“I should tell him, though.”

“No. You are not telling your father about your mother’s romantic life. Let Tommaso or Frank.”

The penny drops. Her ex-husband is Timothy Vizzini. He’s one of Tommaso’s most loyal capos . It tempts me to pinch the bridge of my nose. Ellie has a shit ton of explaining to do.

“Do you want to stay for breakfast, Will?”

He doesn’t shift his gaze from Ellie when I ask.

“Not today. I came to check on you, but I’m headed out to golf. I have a one o’clock tee time. Next time.”

This time, his hug is much warmer. He glances at me, but he focuses on Ellie. She turns her head, and I can see her smile. Her entire expression is relaxed. There’s nothing better for her than hugging her boys. I can tell.

“I love you, honey bear.”

“I love you, too, Mom.”

They kiss each other’s cheek, and Will looks at me. He steps around Ellie, and she wraps her hands around his arm. He walks to me and sticks out his right hand.

“Hurt my mother, and you’ll know how I earned my reputation. I’ll take it all from you, and I’ll make you watch. Then I’ll lock you away where even God can’t see you. I’ll throw away the key and leave you there. Much better than killing you. That ends it too fast.”

Our handshake is a test. We both squeeze. Ellie knows what we’re doing, and she finally gets scared. I release his hand immediately. He turns to look at her.

“Stop protecting your mom like that, and that’s when we’ll have problems. Whatever happens between Tommaso and me, your mom comes first.”

“Always. I’m glad we agree on that.”

“Always.”

Ellie gives him another quick hug before we both watch him leave the kitchen. She doesn’t turn around until the front door closes. It’s at least a minute before she faces me. I know I should be outraged, but I’m not. I move toward her. She doesn’t shy away. She braces herself. It’s just as bad. She expects me to yell at her. When I open my arms, she rushes into them.

“Ellie, what has Tommaso made you do?”

She could be a statue in my arms. Not a bit of her moves.

“ Chiquita , you’re living under an assumed name, or at least your pen name. It explains why my nephews couldn’t find any records of yours.”

She pulls away. She lifts her chin, defiance radiating from her.

“I get why you have to be cautious of anyone new coming near you. You told me about your ex-wife. But I didn’t google you, Enrique. Not even after you told me who you are.”

“Obviously, you didn’t need to.”

“But you had your nephews dig. Did you suspect me of something?”

“I didn’t know what to think. Your home’s owned by an anonymous LLC. You have no fingerprints under Elodie McCann in any system. You disappeared on a trip that you’ve been evasive about.”

“When were you going to confront me about this?”

“I wasn’t. I hoped you’d tell me when you were ready.”

“And your brother and nephews were fine with that?”

“Not particularly. But not finding your past didn’t change how I feel about you now and what I want in the future.”

“Didn’t. Not doesn’t. So, it changes everything.”

“No. Don’t put words into my mouth and don’t misconstrue them. Ask me.”

“Like you did with me?”

This is potentially insurmountable. We’ve broken each other’s trust, and that single fragile thing has been the barrier between us since the start.

She inhales and blows out the breath loud enough for me to hear. She rubs her right eye before glancing at the quiche behind me. She’s unsure of herself, but she reaches out her hand. I take it, and she leads us into the living room and to the sofa. She’s even more unsure. She doesn’t know if I’ll stay. Normally, I wouldn’t sit until she does, but I do. She looks at my lap as my hand tugs her forward. She straddles me, and we gaze at each other before she closes her eyes.

“I’ve used Elodie McCann as a pen name since I started writing. I couldn’t have people digging into my past and discovering who I was. Because you can file copyrights under pen names, I always did that. I started an anonymous LLC and made an accountant I know who lives abroad my Registered Agent.”

She opens her eyes and looks at me.

“I’m certain you know that since you mentioned the LLC. When I divorced Tim, I knew it wasn’t enough to legally change my name. I didn’t want a paper trail if I did that. It would defeat the point. My driver’s license and car registration are the only things that have my real name. I carry them in a pocket under the driver’s seat in my car. If I get pulled over, I have the legit ones to give them. I have a fake driver’s license for when I know it won’t get run.”

Her thighs flex against mine. She appears relaxed, except for that tell. This is a woman used to lying with ease.

“If you look up my real name, you’ll find everything you wanted. I’m Elodie Vizzini.”

The name tickles a memory, but I don’t know why.

“You’ve heard it before, haven’t you?”

“I think so.”

“I’ve known Tommaso, Francesco, and Victoria since I was a toddler. Tori used to babysit me. We always got along, and I adored her. She always said I was the little sister she would’ve traded Tommaso and Frank for. Once I was fifteen and she was nearly twenty-five, we became more like peers. She was about to get married, and she made me one of her bridesmaids. When I got to college, she and I were best friends. We still are. She’s going to be the most pissed about this. Not because she’ll disapprove. She’ll be the first one to congratulate us.” She points between us. “She’s going to throttle me for not telling her.”

She smiles, but it droops a moment later.

“Since I grew up around them, Tommaso and Frank know me better than most. Frank and I are close in age. I used to do impersonations because I was a snarky kid. I’d do them of all the adults we didn’t like. It didn’t matter where they were from. I mastered all the accents I heard. I knew Tim because he’s their second cousin, but I didn’t pay attention to him because he and Tori weren’t close. I didn’t hang out with Tommaso and Frank much once I got to middle school. Tim and I dated in college, then got married a week after I graduated. Two weeks after he did. I told you I’m an accountant.”

She watches me expectantly. It’s my turn to close my eyes for a moment.

“Brazil. That’s where you really were. You stopped in the Caymans on the way home. You didn’t lie. You just didn’t tell all the truth.”

She nods.

“Did you volunteer?”

“Hell no. I never volunteered for any of the jobs Tommaso sent me on.”

“What?”

She sighs, and it’s soul deep.

“I promise you’ve heard of me. I’m that accountant.”

“The Ball Buster?”

“That’s what you call me?”

“That’s the nicest thing everyone calls you.”

That spews from my mouth before I can keep it to myself. She grimaces.

“Wait. You were supposed to have died two days ago.”

“That’s what Ignacio was supposed to think. I didn’t die, but that persona did. I’ve died at least twenty times.”

“You have a unique identity for each job.”

“Sometimes I use the same one more than once. Ignacio knew me as Emilia Messina.”

I run my hands through my hair. This is a lot to take in.

“You’re why the deal went through. You knew I was the customer.”

“I didn’t until I got to Rio. I hoped that when you found out—because I knew you would—you’d see it as a gift not a deception.”

Her shoulders round as she leans away. My hands on her hips pull her closer to me.

“You’re lucky Tommaso has someone watching out for you. How’d you find a decoy?”

“I banked on finding someone at the airport who’d want to make a little extra money, and I did. The woman agreed to wear some of my clothes and board the jet. I knew Ignacio would send someone. The bullet grazed the decoy woman’s arm, but Tommaso’s men at the plane spread the word I died. She’s somewhere with her family with enough money to start over.”

“Thank God Tommaso sent enough men with you. Someone killed the hitman.”

Her gaze doesn’t waver as she stares at me. It’s intense. It’s even more than when we talked about her letting her publicist go. She was all business then. Now…

“Ellie?”

“I killed the man sent to kill me. Enrique, I didn’t know which one he was, but one man at that table was your nephew. Nothing could have made me shoot him. He would’ve shot me before I could do that to you.”

My ears buzz. My head feels like there’s cotton wool between my ears. I can’t process a thought. I think I might be sick. I suck in air through my nose as a lump rises in my throat. My heart hasn’t raced like this in years.

Ellie says nothing. She watches me. Cautious but unrepentant.

“You’re the mercenary no one’s ever found. Alejandro thought you were a young man.”

“I wore all black with a bulky coat to go over my backpack. I didn’t get the coat back on before I left the storage room, but the van was waiting for me. From a distance, I probably looked like a skinny guy in his twenties.”

“He could’ve killed you. He would’ve if he’d been closer.”

“I know.”

“You spared him.”

“I told you I didn’t know which nephew he is, but I knew he’s one of them. He could be your son—you look so much alike.”

“You killed seven men at that table. Alejandro said each was a clean shot. You picked them off, saving Benicio for second to last. You made Ignacio watch everything slip away before you killed him.”

I think for a moment.

“Did you train your son to threaten people that way?”

“No. I didn’t have to. All my sons think that way.” She frowns. “They get it from me. Tim’s not a forgiving man if someone wrongs the family. He has plenty of blood on his hands. But he just gets on with it. His size intimidates people enough. If you know him, then you know Will’s built the same. So are Steve and Hunt. I’ve never had the size to strike fear in anyone, so I use my words and my expressions. My sons use all three. They want to make sure people understand their righteous indignation, their justification for righting the wrong.”

“Were you there to kill Ignacio all along, or did you decide after the hit on you?”

“All along. I’m certain Ignacio expected Tommaso to send someone for him. He wanted me dead to get the money back. He was probably pissed about the money but satisfied to have me out of the way. He didn’t know Tommaso sent me for both jobs.”

“You’ve worked all over the world then. You’re the one nobody’s ever found. The one who only worked for the Vizzinis.”

“Yes. There isn’t anywhere I haven’t been.”

“Is the story about Antarctica true?”

“I’ve heard various renditions of it. They’re a sliver. I threatened to divorce Tim and take the boys with me after that one. He knows I can disappear, and he knows I would do the same for our sons. It’s the one time he put his foot down and forbade Tommaso from sending me on another job like that. It was the first and only time he acted like a Mafia husband was supposed to. He didn’t keep me out when Tommaso came knocking. He didn’t stop him once we had Will. Having Steve then Hunt wasn’t enough for him to stop Tommaso. Three sons weren’t enough to stop Tommaso from demanding I work for him.”

“What did Tommaso have over you?”

“Everything. One word, and Tim would be dead. He could’ve stripped me of everything. He could’ve dumped me somewhere, and I would’ve never seen my boys again. He could’ve taken them from me.”

“You believed he’d do that?”

“Between Tori and Stella, no. I believe they would’ve stopped him. But the chance existed that they couldn’t. When he made the boys train, then go on missions, it became even more imperative I obey. I didn’t want a whoopsie, then me standing over a gravesite.”

If anyone can make Tommaso come to heel, it’s his wife. Stella Rizzo is the Chicago don’s sister. She married Tommaso while her father still ruled the Mafia there. Tommaso is ruthless like me. Stella’s his conscience. She’s like Ellie from the sounds of it.

“There’s more, Enrique.”

Of course, there is. How could there not be?

“My dad’s Pauly Luigiano.”

That name’s enough to send a chill down my spine. By day, he’s a trauma surgeon, like Ellie told me. But he’s a butcher by night. If Tommaso wants to exact the slowest, most merciless torture, then he calls Pauly.

“My dad’s the one who taught me to shoot. My mom’s nearly as good as me, but she’d only do it out of self-defense. With what he does for Tommaso, he’s feared someone would go after my mom or me. He insisted we know how to protect ourselves. When I was seventeen, my dad took me to the range. Tommaso and Frank, and their uncle, Don Manfredo, were there. I outshot everyone. I had no idea I should’ve held back. I wasn’t boasting. I just did what I thought I was supposed to. Manfredo took notice. Creepy old fucker. You know he was supposed to marry Stella, right?”

I nod. The man was beyond twisted. He reminded me of the old bratva leader. The one who trained Maks, his brothers, and their cousins. Manfredo had a plan to murder Stella and keep the dowry. He’d already killed two wives. Tommaso and Stella fell in love while he was her guard before the arranged wedding. It’s what kept her alive.

“The first time Manfredo propositioned me, it was for sex. I told my dad. He dealt with Manfredo. I don’t know what he said, but Manfredo never looked at me like that again. Instead, he wanted me to go with Frank to some horse race and deal with a bookie who wasn’t paying out like he was supposed to. My dad refused to let me go. Once Manfredo was gone and I married Tim, it was different. My dad tried to stop it, but I gave in to Tommaso because I wanted to make Tim happy. It all went downhill from there.”

“Nobody’s heard about you in a couple years. Not as the accountant or as a mercenary.”

“I was supposed to be retired.”

I look at her as though she grew a second head. There’s no such thing as retirement.

“Don’t look at me that way. There aren’t supposed to be Made Women. They’re few and far between. Female mercenaries are just as rare in the Boston Cosa Nostra . I was never supposed to be part of the men’s business. Tommaso even signed a letter with plenty of witnesses that I was out. Once I left Tim, he had no hold over me except for my sons. He threatened to send one of my boys down there this time. They’ve been on plenty of missions where I didn’t intervene despite how much I wanted to. But Ignacio and Brazil were different. Not with Benicio around. I wouldn’t risk it. But it cost Tommaso and Ignacio a shit ton of money. The hits didn’t come cheap, and I forced Ignacio to pay me for wasting my time and for me smoothing things over with Tommaso. Or so he thought. Even if I didn’t need to deposit the money for Tommaso, I still would’ve stopped in the Caymans to deposit mine.”

She looks around her living room before focusing on me again.

“I can’t take the money to the grave, and it’s all blood money. I haven’t touched any of it in the nearly thirty years Tommaso’s been paying me. It’ll go to my boys when the time comes. They can decide what they want to do with it. Until then, it’s my rainy-day fund. This was my last job for Tommaso. It was the last time he holds my boys’ lives over my head. If he does it again, that’ll be my true starting over money. I’ll need it because Rocco and Dante won’t stop until they find me and punish me for killing their father.”

If she doesn’t kill me in my sleep, I’m marrying Ellie.