CHAPTER 12

SCARLET

Touch.

It’s important to our sense of wellbeing.

That’s what my therapist said.

What I felt on the sofa? The tremors. No, vibrations . The low hum. An unwavering buzz. It had nothing to do with him. The sensations had everything to do with healing.

I was able to hug Willow. And I hugged Orlando on occasion. That counts, the therapist said.

My muscles feel weak, like I completed a draining rendition of one of my trainer’s workouts. My therapist introduced me to Maxine for self-defense techniques. She’s former military and SERES-trained, and she taught me more than self-defense. With her, I grew strong. In a ninety-minute routine, she propelled me through running, pull-ups, push-ups, and sit-ups, and then she’d send me into the ocean to swim until my muscles burned.

After a session with Maxine and a hot soaking bath, I didn’t want to move. I’d lie in bed, bone-tired. It’s no wonder the memory surfaces as I sink into the couch cushions. Only I didn’t lift a finger.

When he touched me, warmth rained over my skin, penetrating to the bone. Tears spilled, bewildering me. I do not cry. I haven’t in years.

I am not weak. I am strong.

After such an emotional release, my muscles feel like water. I'm not sure I could have steadied my hands enough to return the favor had he accepted my offer. But I offered, because otherwise…

Otherwise what? Would that be him doing me a favor?

I force my emotionally spent limbs off the sofa, leaving the warmth of the hearth, and meander through the halls, arms wrapped around my middle.

Flashes of heat strike with the velocity of a thunderbolt.

I’m flustered. That’s all.

I should’ve listened to my therapist and sought massage therapy for post-therapeutic continuity.

In my room, I stand by the window, taking in the drab countryside cloaked in fog. If I let myself, I would unravel.

But I’ve come too far. I’ve done everything I said I would. Revenge has yet to be delivered, but I’ve done my part. The wheels of justice grind slowly, but I’ve pushed the cart, and eventually, it shall gather steam. All that is required now is patience. Living—no, thriving—will exact a deeper revenge. If I get wrapped up in emotion, if I succumb to the pain, they win.

I press my forehead against the cold windowpane and think of Willow. My cousin, my best friend, the only good in a world of evil.

I miss you, Willow.

“I’m still here.”

I shake my head at the response that comes through in her voice. If only.

There’s still Orlando, but his evolution has begun. He’s only fifteen, but Uncle Alessio raised him to be one of them. His kind, empathetic soul will be crushed, and a heartless, greedy spirit will rise. One day. But today is not that day.

I pick up my mobile and dial the one person I care about in that world.

He answers on the fifth ring. “ Ciao .”

“Orlando.” A wave of warmth crashes within as I say his name.

Static-like sounds crackle through the connection. Heavier noises cross the line, possibly footfalls.

Click .

“Orlando? Are you there?”

“Now I am. I didn’t want anyone to hear. Why haven’t you agreed to come home?”

“What’s wrong?”

“You should hear what they’re saying. What’s going on?”

“What’s being said?”

“Massimo was here earlier.”

“At the?—”

“Papa wasn’t at the office, so he came here. To the house. He’s furious. He’ll send someone to retrieve you if you don’t return.”

“Why?” A sense of dread coils in my stomach. Have they launched an investigation? Does Massimo know what evidence they possess?

“I don’t know. Papa’s away on business, and Massimo won’t talk to me.”

That’s because Massimo is an ass. Sure, he’s capo, but he’s a narcissistic jerk who won’t deign to talk to those at the bottom of his organization. Our old capo wasn’t like that at all. He knew everyone’s name. I wouldn’t say he was friends with everyone, but his strength was in building unity. Massimo derives strength from fear.

“You need to leave. Get a flight today.”

“I’m not coming back there, Orlando.”

“That was your plan all along, wasn’t it? It had nothing to do with you being distraught over Willow.” There’s a pause. “Or my ceremony.”

“Orlando, come on. You have to see that I don’t belong in the famiglia .”

After I killed Vincent, my friends disappeared, proving they weren’t friends at all. The only ones who speak to me are those within the Gagliano estate or at the office.

“If you don’t come home, Massimo may send me to get you.”

“I’m not an object to be retrieved.”

“Scarlet, you’ll be lucky if it’s me he sends.”

The Lupi Grigi grows cruel men. I should know, I married one of them.

“Orlando, tell me something good. That’s why I called.”

“ Ma sei fuori di testa? Your mother isn’t saying much, but she’s walking around like she’s already attended your funeral.”

“No, I have not lost my mind, and I assure you, her sorrow is not for me.”

“Well, mine is. You’re one of the good ones. Don’t force Massimo to make an example of you.”

“Why does he want me back?” Is this territorial, or has he gotten wind of the evidence?

“If I were to guess, I’d say he doesn’t like you hanging out with the people responsible for his brother’s death.”

Ah, so Orlando knows nothing.

“ Scarlet, please. Come home. If he sends men to get you, it won’t go well.”

“Why do you want to become one of them?” At least his sister had the guts to get out, although that didn’t work out well for her either.

Silence descends. I check the mobile to see if he’s ended the call. He hasn’t, so I wait. There could be someone around him. Or maybe he simply doesn’t have an answer.

“Why do you think there’s a choice?” His voice is so low, I barely hear the question.

“Because there’s always a choice.”

“You should’ve played chess more.”

“That would have required spending time with your father.”

“Contrary to what you believe, Papa’s not a bad man.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. They’re all evil.”

“No. Everything my father does, he does with our community, with our country, in mind.”

“Remind me, what’s his net worth?”

“His shipping business is legitimate. You’re the bookkeeper. You know that.” He half snorts, and then there’s silence. A different silence. He just figured it out.

“Scarlet. They will not let you leave. If you blackmail them, they’ll kill you. You might as well put a gun to your head and pull the trigger.”

Oh, I know.