Page 33

Adriano

Facing death has always been a part of my life.

I always thought it would be swift. Painful, sure.

A gunshot through the head, or maybe I’d be tortured to death at the hands of our enemies. Definitely something brutal, maybe something heroic.

Certainly not going down in a fireball on a train. Of course, I know it’s stupid, so unlikely. Only eight hundred or so people die in train related incidents every year in the EU.

But they freak me out. Especially the high-speed rail. However, it’s the best way to get back to Paris in time to catch my flight back to the States.

Releasing my death grip on the armrests, I fidget, trying not to look out the window. I need a drink.

“Get your shit together, man,” I mutter to myself.

“Are you alright?” The voice is sweet, dulcet.

I look up, trying to school the glower from my face.

Auburn hair, lustrous red. Light, honey-colored eyes.

“Wow. Nope. I mean. No. Definitely not.”

Her smile is fucking sunshine, but she hides it quickly, covering her mouth. “Sorry, that was rude.”

“It was?” I may be jaded from years of spending time with Ero and Ciro. “Do you need this seat?”

Geeze. Ciro would have a heyday busting my balls for fumbling so hard.

“No, thank you. I was just passing by and noticed you seemed…”

“Totally discombobulated?” More like unhinged.

“Not the word I would have used,” she taps her chin thoughtfully. “Distressed?”

“Adriano, actually.” I want to slap myself so hard.

“Intrigued, but Gloria, actually.” She thrusts out her hand.

Did that … work?

Not that I was trying to ‘work’ anything.

Jackass.

Shake her hand, stupid.

“Drink?” I blurt out, standing and probably assaulting her hand with my clumsy grip. What the hell is going on with me?

“Do I! Mostly on weekends, never on school nights.”

“Um. You?—”

“University.”

“Uh.”

“A place where people take classes and learn things.”

“I’ve been.”

“Good for you!” She’s not mocking me, not exactly. But she is.

And I like it.

“Were you going to get one?” She points toward the doors.

“A degree? They don’t offer those on this train.” Why.

“A drink.”

“With you? I’d love to.” Insert grin like an idiot and follow her toward the bar car.

Gloria bites her lip, a twinkle in her eye over her shoulder. A little toss of her head and those deep red locks have my head spinning.

“So, Adriano, what do you do? Besides confusing and/or charm wayward women on trains.”

“I certainly don’t charm, but I do confuse, mostly myself. And not just on trains.” Whoever is piloting my brain needs to let me off at the next stop.

“You’re afraid of flying too?” She gapes, picking a seat at the bar. “Hodophobia is more common than most people think.”

“I’m not. I think everyone should be able to live how they want.”

Gloria narrows her eyes at me, trying to decide if I’m serious. She looks away abruptly, scanning the drink menu, nibbling the corner of her lip.

“ Whisky, avec des glacons .” I spout off to the bartender. He nods, glancing at my impromptu date.

“ Deux ,” she shrugs, slapping the menu down.

“Siderodromophobia.” I take a sip. Not bad. For crap.

“Ah, so you are just being difficult.”

“No, it means I’m afraid of trains and riding on them. Rocketing, metal ball of fire waiting to happen.”

“Pyrophobia, too? A man of many talents.”

“Fear can be a very compelling coach. The only fires I’m scared of are the ones my two little brothers start.”

“So not an only child,” she notes with a point of her finger, like she’s checking off a list.

“I take it you are?”

“Very. Spoiled rotten. Also traumatized by oddly specific strict rules, too.”

“That’s the deluxe combo. Nice.”

We sit in pleasant silence for a few, less horrifying miles.

“You know, fear of trains, or planes, or any travel is perfectly normal. I didn’t mean to poke fun.” She glances at me, smiling reassuringly, a hint of worry in her eyes.

“You can poke fun at me or laugh at me anytime you want if I get to see you smile.” It’s out of my mouth like someone else rented my brain for a split second. Who the fuck says things like that?!

She does that thing again, slipping her hand up to cover her mouth with her knuckles. It’s adorable, it’s an affectation.

Probably a relative always telling her to stop giggling, or a parent pointing out a flaw.

Just like my over analysis of everything around me. Maybe it’s just a gesture.

I stare like a dumbass down into my drink, trying to figure out what to word-vomit next.

“What are you—at University, I mean, what—” I stutter right as the train lurches, rattling like a jet in turbulence. The shudder jolts the bar, knocking me off my stool, sending my drink flying.

One frozen second, we’re flying; the next, I’m grabbing her, rolling to break her fall.

The train regains its smooth kilter.

I lay there staring up into amber eyes, strands of auburn glory brushing my face. Her lips part, I tuck that liquid fire behind her ear.

Then the speaker scratches, chirps and a French guy’s voice ruins my day.

“Ladies and gentlemen, there has been a minor malfunction, and the train will be stopping shortly for safety purposes. All passengers must exit the train at this time, we are terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Now that’s just bad luck,” Gloria murmurs, still looking into my eyes. She regains her composure with a little squeak and climbs off me, offering me a hand up. I take it, gently, rising as the train slows.

“I guess we should…”

“Get our things, right.”

I look down, noticing we are still holding hands.

A press of passengers surge through the car suddenly, all on their way back to their seats. Before I can think of anything else to say, Gloria gets tugged from my grip, looking over her shoulder.

“It was nice meeting you!”

Just like that she’s gone.

At the station, I don’t spot her in the throng of bodies, juggling my luggage.

Well. That was nice.

Pressing matters like making the last leg to Paris distract me from any further daydreaming. Another train is out of the question at this point, with all the delays and my completely reinforced fear of trains.

This one was pretty cool, though.

Thoughts of Gloria chase me all the way to New York, where I once again face my potential death at the hands of Domenico Vipera. I suppose if I die here, though, it meets my criteria for a good death.

Dying for family is the only thing worth dying for, in my opinion. Kind of a given, growing up in a crime family.

Dirty word, that. But it fits. We are what we are.

The catch is that the family I swore my blood to was my blood. Alessandro was always the only man I would follow. The only person I could trust to lead me.

With my council, of course. He’d be lost without me.

Which is why I can rest assured for his well-being with Isabella keeping him occupied and tempering his impulses with wise words. She’s a firecracker. And a lioness, a match for him in every way.

As much as I still don’t like the way she came into his life, the end result is better than I could have expected. She’s his, he’s hers. Something I always wanted for my brother, something I knew he always needed desperately.

Something I was pretty sure I’d never have.

It’s not in my nature. I’m too suspicious. I’m too neurotic.

I wouldn’t want to put someone through that; I can barely tolerate it myself. It’s like living with an assistant always checking the itinerary.

I have no chill. Except Gloria, she seemed to like it, kind of.

However, it’s case in point, the absolute spaz that I was around her.

The ride to Domenico’s building takes me through the old neighborhood, near the compound. It feels like months instead of weeks since I was home.

Nostalgia tickles my brain, like fuzzy tingles.

I almost tell the cabbie to take a detour, but thoughts of Alessandro and my brothers lead to Isabella and the baby. No. I need to get this over with, for their sake.

I think it will suit Alessandro, though, getting another chance to raise one of his own, instead of being forced to raise his brothers. Maybe it’ll cool all that anger he’s got locked away, too. He was meant to be a caregiver, but he was yoked with way too much responsibility to take care of that part of himself.

Another key difference between us. I’ve always kept myself to myself. I know who I am and reconciled with that trainwreck a long time ago.

Which is why I never even considered having kids.

They always said I was an old soul. Well, when you have twin baby brothers trying to kill each other constantly, you get tired of playing around really quick. It never suited me to goof off that way, anyway.

I need mental stimulation. That’s why I went to college four times. Never finished any of it. Just took the classes I liked and moved on.

“$42.50. You need me to wait?”

“No. I don’t know if I’ll be coming back.”

“Jeezus. No need for dramatics.”

“Keep the change.” I absently hand the cabbie a fifty.

“Gee, thanks.” He screeches off around the corner.

My feet carry me straight inside, through the lobby. I’m shown to the elevator, step off to find a waiting room. A secretary.

Dom always liked things business professional. The waiting room has a stack of magazines. All outdated. The woman at the desk doesn’t greet me, she just points at a chair.

Classic New York.

Reading is the last thing on my mind right now. Especially some gossip-column trash from five years ago. TV shows never interested me much, either. Unless they’re really informative, challenging.

That’s why I spend so much time working. Filling my days with my family’s duties.

I look into the girls my brothers bring home, to make sure they aren’t a liability. I follow up on their nights out, where they went, who they were with.

That’s my job.

To know everything at all times. And then come up with how to manage it, erase it, file it, clean it up, or pay it off. Just like this is my job. To face our greatest enemy and try to go to work for him.

I can hardly wait.

Yet it’s up to me to come back, to pave the way for Ciro and Ero and the other members of the family, to ensure that Dom doesn’t hurt our people. Which means I need to do something I don’t know if I can reconcile.

I have to swear fealty to Domenico Vipera. Play secretary to a madman. So, I go over the list again in my head to stay calm.

I’ve known the guy my entire life.

He’s like another brother, or maybe a young uncle. Never really got along with him, but he was always there. I know him like I know Alessandro.

And that is what really eats at me.

Dom is rash.

He’s just as likely to kill me the minute I walk in the door as he is to say hello and give me a hug—like he didn’t just take over the family compound and usurp my brother. Or he’ll act like we never met, playing an angle I have no clue how to navigate.

That’s how my mind works.

Working out every scenario so I’m not taken off guard.

It’s my only advantage.

And it’s the price I must pay, the risk I have to take to stay close, in the know, and make moves to undermine him. The last order Alessandro may ever give me.

Someday, my brothers and I will have our revenge. We will take back what is ours.

I just hate that it falls to me to make that happen. Alessandro is cut out for that, to carry the burdens of being number one. To make the call, expect it to be carried out, and live with the consequences.

You’d think delegating all his orders my whole life would make me well-suited to doing what he does, but it doesn’t. It’s not the same, passing along and carrying out the orders versus giving them.

My only hope is to assume a clerical position.

Run Dom’s books or manage his staff.

Something in the background, something quiet.

“He’ll see you now.” A troll in a suit steps into the hall outside Dom’s office, holding the door. He waves me in with the barrel of his MAC-11.

At close range he could paint a wall with lead, single coat coverage, no primer needed.

“Adriano Diamante. Welcome, old friend.”

Hmm. Reserved. Cordial. Polite.

What angle is he playing?

“Don Vipera,” I intone, keeping it formal.

Dom rises from behind his desk, circling to pose, leaning back, casual. He tilts his head slightly, watching me like the snake his family is named for, before offering me his hand, the massive signet ring of his great-aunt Eva on his finger.

Bowing, keeping my eyes locked on his, I inch my head forward in the imitation of a kiss, a gesture that holds worlds of meaning to those of us who spent our lives in the game.

“Hmm,” he hums, cocking his head in a sign of acknowledgment.

Everything since I stepped into this building has been a test.

And I either just passed, or I just signed my death certificate.

“Adriano, I know you must be scrambling, wondering why I asked you here. You probably thought I was gonna cap you, huh?” He laughs, a musical and charming sound.

“It crossed my mind,” I blurt out, cursing in my head at the slip.

“It was a waste of talent killing your brother. Had to be done, though.”

“Naturally.”

“Look, I know you hate me. We don’t have to pretend you ever even liked me, right?”

“Not particularly.”

“Especially now. It’s perfectly understandable. Yet, I can’t help but think that you are the type of guy who can still get the job done in spite of that.” He crosses the room to the window, looking out over the river. “My people, you know, they say I should kill all three of yous.”

“Probably should.” I’m doing it again. Stop talking.

“But see, I think, and correct me if I’m wrong, that putting you to work is so much more useful. Like I said, waste of talent is one of my biggest pet peeves. And I don’t want to kill you, we’ve known each other our whole life. Makes me feel like a real villain, you know? So, keeping you and your brothers close ensures you aren’t out there plotting against me. I gotta look over my shoulder all the time, etc.”

“Better to have us plotting against you where you can see us, right?” Insert foot into mouth.

“Precisely. And it gives me a chance to prove to you that I am worth serving. I’ve never wanted anything but to run the family and do right by our people.”

Somehow I doubt that’s ever been true. But he seems to believe it.

Swallowing the seething rage trying to climb out through my ribcage, I nod, kneeling. Stay the course. Ride the line to the end of the tracks.

“Hmm. Traditional. I like it. But there’s no need to kneel. Not for my consigliere .”

The train derails completely.

Ball of metal and fire.

To think that I could outsmart a man who's been playing this game his entire life was extremely naive on my part. Out of every eventuality that I planned for, I never expected this.

And that’s how the next few weeks go.

Each time I think I have all the possibilities laid out; he throws a curveball.

I see now why Alessandro always followed him when they were young. The man's intuitive, sharp as a razor, perceptive. Worse than all of that, he’s disarmingly clever, funny.

He sucks you in with his larger-than-life personality. He makes you forget who he is.

That he's cruel, ruthless, and vindictive.

Dom keeps this vengeful side of himself under wraps, expressing it in small passive aggressive ways most of the time. The way he corrects my work, the way he belittles me in front of business partners.

At first, I take it as a challenge.

To do my job so well, that I'll be above reproach. Until I realized that's exactly what he’s doing, preying on my perfectionism, getting me to overperform. It's like playing chess with a master and I forgot half my pieces.

Two weeks slip by like that.

Ciro and Ero are away constantly on assignments for Dom. He has me scheduling them, and yet manages to keep us from ever spending more than a few minutes at a time in the same room.

It’s genius.

I wonder how long I can last.

And I wonder what his endgame is. So far, I haven’t managed to get a handle on the scope of his plans. All I know is that he’s growing the organization.

It’s getting out of hand, and I can’t council him to stop.

“Adriano, the layouts for the new compound are stunning. You really know how to get things done when you put your mind to it!” He claps me on the back, and I hate that I almost like the approval. Dom is fucking contagious.

“The sooner you have a place to live, the sooner we can move out of the hotel.”

“So true. Don’t worry, I have a wing designed just for you, your brothers too, when they’re home.”

I frown, letting my confusion show. A mistake. “I thought we’d go back to our compound, eventually.”

“Why would you go back to that burned out husk?” He turns, his eyes ice cold.

The news hits me like a sledgehammer.

“You …”

“Erased the past. Yeah. For your own good, you’ll see.”

My mind buzzes, a dull hum that mutes all other thoughts.

“Speaking of good things, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. It doesn’t look good, my second being a young, fresh-faced kid.”

“I’m thirty-three.” This is it; he’s going to get rid of me.

“And not getting younger, either. It would play better, really key up your image if you were a family man.”

“Wait…what?” His words jumble together in my head. What is he saying?

“Don’t worry, I already picked out a bride for you. She just got in from Paris this morning.”

My stomach falls as I hear the door open behind me. High heels clack on the hardwood, hammering like nails into my coffin.

Knowing Dom, she’ll be a harpy, a scheming, socialite leech. She’ll be hand-picked to latch her fangs into me and control me.

A trillion thoughts race through my head, all screaming my doom.

Until I see her.

Dark red and honey, and my heart stops. My mind going completely silent for once.

“Adriano, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Gloria Vipera, your future wife.”

To be continued.