Page 22

21

ALESSANDRO

“ D o you have all your things?” The hollowness of my voice is not faked. It's not a show.

I feel empty inside.

Packing distracts me for a short while, shutting down the house. Carla offers me breakfast, but I have no appetite.

This betrayal is beyond anything that I am prepared to take. And I still have to see her the entire way home. So I put up a wall of hatred between us.

My heart can shrivel to dust for all I care now.

And she hasn’t said a word. The silence of the damned.

She hasn’t begged for her life, made excuses. Like she’s content to let me decide her fate. So much for that fighting spirit I fell in love with.

It was all a lie.

“I asked you a question. Do you have all of your things?”

“Yes, I do.” It's all she says, dragging her carry-on and her suitcase behind her.

“Adri?”

He cocks an eyebrow at my use of his nickname, but lets it slide. “I gave instructions to Carl and Vincenzo. He’ll drop off her rental. They won’t speak of any of this.”

“And the house?”

“They’ll keep it up, same as always. If we don’t return, they’ll pass the duty along to Ava and her husband.”

The comment is offhanded but it really makes me wonder.

Will I ever see this place again? Do I ever want to after what happened here?

Either way, I want the best for my people. Vincenzo and his family have always been loyal. Knowing they will be safe, far away from danger and living a peaceful life gives me some sense of closure on this farewell.

Our trip down the mountain is quiet, Isabella staring out the window, my brother silent and brooding. Time passes in a weird, abstract sort of way.

On the train.

At the airport.

We keep to a strict schedule, avoiding major stations and slipping around customs. The benefits of a bottomless bank account and decades of padding the right pockets.

The plane ride back to the States is one of the longest I can ever remember, sitting in the same cabin as Isabella.

We may as well be on opposite sides of the planet.

Part of me wants to scream at her, demand answers. Another wants to never see her again. Only a small part of me considers throwing her out of the plane over the Atlantic.

Adriano is resting, his headphones notched in his ears.

Isabella’s sleeping in her seat across the aisle, facing back toward me, but out of earshot.

“Why? I need a reasonable answer. But you can’t give me one, can you? Like a cheating spouse. You just did it. You just acted without concern for how it might hurt me.” The words are barely audible to my own ears above the hum of the engines.

Once I had a chance to look into her life, her reasoning was clear.

In addition to being Giorgio’s sister, she's an investigative reporter. An aspiring one anyway, working for a tabloid in Rome.

This could have been her big break.

All at my expense.

I don’t even begrudge her the ideal of revenge, of thinking I killed her brother and wanting to bring me down for it. It’s something I can empathize with all too well.

But the ambition of using that to propel her career?

Disgusting.

I can't bring myself to tell her what really happened to Giorgio. Not yet.

The wound is still too fresh, and I want her to suffer . To languish, not only wondering what I know—the mystery dangling in front of her nose—but also to wonder what I’m going to do to her for betraying me.

Let her think that I killed him. Let her worry that he wasn’t who she thought he was.

The first lights of a city twinkle down below as I look out the window into the darkness.

Under any other circumstances, I enjoy flying, long trips.

But all I have to look forward to when we arrive is more meetings. Planning.

At least at the end of that I get to fight. Lead my men to battle. Assuming Adriano doesn’t try to keep me locked up at the compound.

He can fucking try.

Spending time back in the old country did me one big favor. It solidified my familial ties. Generations of men like me, seeing their families through hard times. Through wars.

I will not shame my ancestors by failing my people.

We land at the private airstrip an hour later, boarding a limo in the middle of the night.

Still, Isabella doesn’t put up a fight, like she’s given up.

Adriano is surprisingly gentle with her, all things considered. Probably because he’s worried I’ll fall apart if he does what he wants to do to her. What we should do to her.

The drive home offers me little relief from my exhaustion.

Every time I close my eyes I see her in my bed, in my arms, tied up and moaning.

Mocking me with every blink of my eyes. Spitting in my face and throwing my love away.

Just like Domenico.

We pull into the compound and I should feel like I’m home. The staff smiles to see me, taking our bags, my men patting me on the back.

“Welcome home, Don!” Tomas grins.

“Good to be home, Tomas,” I fake, my heart not in it.

“Prodigal son! You’ve come home,” Ciro sings from the top of the steps.

“I’m not your son.”

“But you sure do know how to spend money!” He pulls me into a hug and this I actually feel, gripping my little brother tightly and squeezing his shoulders.

“Only because I have to buy you out of trouble all the time.”

“How was your time in the desert, fratello ?”

“The sand was snow and the thirst was boredom,” Adriano intones, a little smirk pulling at his mouth for the first time in days.

“At least you didn't freeze to death. We were worried you'd come back a popsicle.” Ciro chuckles, nodding as Fiero leans in the doorway. The guards outside stiffen at his presence, saluting me sharply.

“You two seem to be doing well in your element. Driving everyone insane, I'm sure.” I try to be myself, to act normal.

“Somebody's got to keep all these fuckers in line. And since you weren't here, and we weren't allowed to go partying, we had to stay… busy .” Ciro rubs his hands together menacingly. I definitely don't want to know.

More so when the two guards at the door, Gino and Bolo, give me wide-eyed looks, shaking their heads. It’s almost enough to make me laugh in spite of my grief.

“Why don’t we let Alessandro come inside, eh?” Tomas interrupts, leading the way. “It really is great to see you, sir.”

“And you, Tomas. How are Lita and the kids? Gregorio?”

“Brats, the whole lot of them, I should have never let my sister marry that idiota ,” he snaps, hiding a smile. He takes my briefcase and ushers me through the house. “Can’t help noticing you brought a guest?”

“Yes. Have Tina show her to the blue guest room.” I eye Isabella as she steps through the door, taking in the size and luxury of the mansion.

Tomas frowns for a second, but nods.

Ciro, oblivious to the exchange, bounces in, taking a long, head to toe look at Isabella. “Damn! You didn’t tell us you found a bride while you were away!”

Adriano chokes, staring at me, waiting for me to explode.

Instead, I find a smirk tugging at my lips, ironic. Bitter.

“Yep, she just wandered in out of the blizzard.”

“My bad, name’s Ciro, this is my little brother Ero.” He extends his hand. Isabella shakes it, clenching her jaw. “Does she talk?”

“Only to people who don’t pester her or annoy her. Tomas, please see her to her room.” The implication registers in my head of security’s eyes and he bows lightly to her, ushering her upstairs.

Ero stares openly at me, clearly spotting the interaction and understanding the cues.

“We’ve got plenty to do. How about a report,” Adriano interjects.

“Always business, business, business! You just got home!” Ciro yells, falling in.

“War room. Now.” I don’t bother waiting for them to follow me.

The board room is spacious, comfortable, but practical.

“You’ve located Dom’s hideout?” I ask without preamble, nailing Ero with a glare.

“I believe so. The Serpent’s Head all seem to take orders out of one place, an office building near the foundry,” Ero rattles off, his baritone never above a close, conversational volume.

“Found the ol’ head of the serpent, as it were. Talk about fucking cheesy.” Ciro kicks his feet up on the desk.

“I would think it's a lot more cheesy if he wasn't killing off our people,” Adriano retorts.

“That’s just it, though,” Ciro quips, getting as serious as he ever does, “they’ve gone pretty quiet the last few days. We followed every group back to their hideouts, their bases of operation. They all report back to one place, we’re just not sure if Dom is actually there.”

“So how do you know it’s him?” I ask.

“His name’s on the deed to the place, and I mean, come on, Serpent’s Head? Vipera?”

“I know. It’s too on the nose not to be him. I just…”

“We all hoped it wasn’t him,” Ciro concedes, patting the air. “But the guy’s always been hyper-ambitious, volatile.”

“You don’t turn on family, though,” Ero adds, crossing his arms.

“Damn straight.”

“What I don’t get is why there’s been no communication. Why the fuck isn’t he trying to announce his presence, talk to you? I mean, he tried to off you for fuck’s sake with no warning, then no other attempts on the compound, just nothing.” Adriano paces the room.

“We could send him a message. See if he wants to parley.”

“We are going to send him a message, Ciro,” I catch each of their eyes in turn. “But we’re going to do it at gunpoint. He’s going to know the king has returned when I'm standing over him, about to pull the trigger.”

“Fuck yeah!” Ciro cheers. Ero nods his agreement.

“Ero, how’s security?”

“Security is tighter than ever, we’ve switched all guard rotations. No one is getting the drop on us here.”

“Just to explore every option, what if we did offer to parley, draw him out. Get him in the open.”

“Use me as bait, you mean? Not a bad idea. Then I could snap his neck in front of the entire council of elders.”

“That would suit some of them. Most just want this over, as quiet as possible. The threat of a hostile force is bad for business. It’s starting to affect a few of their bottom lines, clientele are getting nervous.” Adriano shakes his head as he sits, deep in thought.

“Keep it in mind. See if we can avoid all-out war.” I roll my shoulders, cracking my neck. “Not that I’d mind if we have to go in, guns blazing.”

“See? This is why they put you in charge. Rational,” Ciro quips. “I vote for violence.”

“They put you in charge because you make rational decisions, Aless. Keep that in mind,” Adriano says, raising an eyebrow.

“I need time to think, and I need a shower. Reconvene here in a few hours.”

“Yes sir!”

I wander off towards my study, wanting some time to myself. More than anything, I just need to sleep. But that’s not happening any time soon.

Adriano follows me half the way back, his room on the way to my suite. “You okay?”

“No.” I shrug.

“I can handle the menial stuff if you need time.

“Fuck that. There’s too much on the line. Hearing it from the twins is fine, but I want to hear reports from every captain. Same with security. Set up meetings, calls with everyone. Stagger the ones that need to come in to talk. No patterns.”

“Smart. Talking to every family member is going to take time. You up for it?”

“I need to be seen, be heard. I need my people to know I’m involved.”

“I'll set it up.” He slips away, heading to his room.

“Thanks, Adriano.”

“Anything you need, let me know.”

The walk back to my bedroom is lonely, desolate. What I really need is something to occupy me. Keep me busy.

So I don’t have time to think about her.

Part of me wishes I could just see Isabella for a moment. Have her one more time to clear my head. But I know that's dangerous, making myself vulnerable before making commands.

So I drive her from my thoughts.

A few hours later, after several dozen meetings and phone calls, I’m back in the war room, deep in the trenches of planning an assault. Parleying doesn’t sound like it’s going to work.

At least, not without a chess move of our own to show that we mean business, that we won’t be toyed with.

“Three locations. Three hits. Assign Ciro and Ero to lead two of them, another captain on the third, since I can’t join in…” I glare at Adriano.

He grimaces and shakes his head. I know better than to argue. The man is absolutely obstinate when it comes to certain things. “Prisoners?”

“No. Kill the threats, let the others go. We need to make a statement, but I don’t want to escalate things yet.” It also gives us the opportunity to see who else is on his side.

Rumors of the Bratva and the Greeks working for him have been filtering in.

A knock at the door interrupts us. It’s Tomas.

“Sir, you wanted to see me?”

“Yes, come in. How is our guest doing?”

“She’s fine. Hasn’t said anything.”

“Good. She is to remain under lock and key. Tell the staff not to speak to her.”

“Understood, Don Alessandro.” Tomas takes everything in stride. He’s halfway out the door when he turns back, “And sir? It’s good to have you back.”

“Thanks. Good to be back,” I lie, wishing it were true. Being in the thick of everything again reminds me who I really am, who I used to be.

A stark clash to who I started to become with Isabella.

Despite my constant work, she still haunts my every waking hour.

Maybe this was her revenge. Maybe this was her plan all along. To pull me in. To make me bow to her only to have her tear my heart out. It would be fitting for the things that I've done.

But something lingers inside me, longing for her.

And I can't help but wonder if she's longing for me too.