Page 45 of Doll's Eye
I pull back to look up at him finding his eyes dry. “Any word about Mamma? Have you been able to see her?”
“Not since they had to put her under.” His jaw ticks as he looks out over my head. “She’ll make it, though. Just has a lot of healing to do.”
Looking around, our men are all grim-faced as they silently mourn the death of our father. He was loved and revered by his men. Respect usually grows out of fear, but absolute devotion comes from both fear and adoration.
Paolo wipes at his tears with angry motions as Santino leans against the wall, flat and passive. Armando is still a crying mess as Tullio looks like he’s about to explode in rage. Barely hanging on by a thread.
It grows eerily silent as we all stand there without knowing how to move forward from here. The life of a mafioso is always risky; our lives are constantly in danger, but we’ve been fortunate so far.
But good fortune always runs out.
Chapter twenty-four
Alessia
Gemma has finally exhausted herself with tears hours after getting home from the hospital.
After our brothers passed her around, she fell into my arms and hadn’t left since. We were finally able to see Mamma after what felt like forever waiting. We all filed into the room, filling it with our presence, and sat with her for hours, praying.
I’m still stuck in some kind of numb state where the tears won’t come as I tuck Gemma into her bed. As I head downstairs to talk to my brothers, my stomach rolls, knowing what I will be walking into. Something I have put half of my energy into ignoring.
They’re all stuffed inside Father’s office, and my eyes immediately go to the loveseat in there. Memories try to flog my brain, but I shove them back.
They all stop talking when my presence is known. All looking at me with caution. For fear of me finally breaking down or my reaction to whatever they’ve been withholding from me.
“So, tell me,” I say when no one speaks.
“We have one of the butchers in custody,” Tullio states.
“Then why the hell are we here?” My vitriolic tone doesn’t faze them.
“We’re here because this is where we all need to be right now.” He uses a stern voice with me as his nostrils flare.
“So, no one’s even questioned him yet?”
“Not yet, but we don’t need to, to know he’s one of De Luca’s guys,” Paolo sneers.
“How do you know that?”
“One of our guys recognized him,” Armando says as he sniffles.
“And that’s what we’re basing this off of?”
Tullio slams his fist down on the desk. “Yes. For now, we are. Until I go and question him myself.”
“Massimo says it wasn’t him.” I cross my arms.
“It was the De Luca’s,” Tullio says as a matter-of-fact.
“Massimo wouldn’t lie to me.”
Tullio chuckles and shakes his head. “You don’t even know him, Alessia. Smarten up. He’s Massimo De Luca. He’s capable of anything.”
I hate the way he’s talking about Massimo. He might have a lot of blood on his hands and capable of a lot of things, but not lying. He didn’t lie to me, and he wouldn’t be involved in the murder of my parents. He wouldn’t do that to me. I know it.
“You’re wrong, Tullio. I’ll admit, Angelo may have been involved. I won’t deny you that since he has never been shy about his hatred towards our family, but not Massimo. He wouldn’t do this. I’m telling you.”
He couldn’t.
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