37. Day 93 – Luciano
The men around us roar their approval as a spray of blood announces another hit. Jeers ring out as the underdog staggers back into the corner only for him to be shoved back into the middle of the ring.
Domenico lunges, the snapping sound of a bone breaking making even seasoned men wince as his opponent lets out a howl.
There are no rules in this place.
The old warehouse is a walking fire hazard. Money exchanges hands every other seat, grievances dealt with in dark corners or – depending on the charge – in front of the baying crowd.
Cheers ring out as the battered male lands with a thud, his head smacking against the rubber flood. Dom ignores them all. He follows the man down, pinning his neck and delivering a series of short, sharp blows into his kidneys.
Matteo’s eyes are glittering with dollar signs when I glance over at him. Not that he needs it with Joseph Corvo’s money in his grasp.
The party afterward is chaotic. Rowdy. The scent of sex hangs in the air as men find their way to a warm body for the night, skin on show everywhere.
One girl slips up to me, all wide green eyes and pouty, plump lips as she slides onto my lap.
“Not tonight, love.” I brush her cheek in an apology as I lift her off.
“Not in the mood?” Matteo is also alone. His eyes scan the crowd, assessing, before he looks at me. “They’re the best of the bunch. Came straight from Salvatore.”
I keep my face carefully disinterested. “I’m in the mood for something else. Doesn’t seem like I’m going to find it.”
He huffs at that, at the sly poke to his pride. “I’m sure we can find something to tempt you.”
“Well.” I offer him a shrug, a cocky grin. “No offense, but you’re not my type. I like my women prettier.”
Matteo roars his amusement as he raises a hand. “So I’ve heard. Maybe this one will be pretty enough for you, Morelli.”
Turning my head, I keep that lazy smile on my face as I study the woman that walks up to us. Let my eyes narrow, assessing.
The last time I saw her, she was wearing a wedding dress, smiling up at Joseph Corvo without a supposed care in the world.
And we had Cat. I swallow.
The last three months have not been kind to her.
Her clavicles stand out in stark, sharp prominence as she looks at Matteo with empty eyes, the glittering black dress hanging from her frame. He reaches for her, drags her closer with his meaty hand around her frail wrist. “You already know Amie, I believe?”
“We’ve met.” I let my eyes travel over her, under the guise of inspection. Keep that smile lingering. Twist it into something a little darker.
Irreverent.
I tilt my head in Matteo’s direction, dubious. “She looks as if one good fuck would break her in half.”
Matteo hums, his hand tightening. She doesn’t flinch. “She’s stronger than she looks.”
I let the doubt cloud my expression as I look her up and down. Amie doesn’t meet my eyes, facing the floor, but I catch the trembling of her fingers before she tucks them into her black dress.
And I smile. “Well. That sounds like a challenge to me. Perhaps I was wrong, Corvo. Remind me to let you know in a few hours.”
She doesn’t respond, but Matteo howls. He thrusts her towards me, and she bounces off my chest as I stand. I don’t catch her, letting her stumble back. “Try not to break her permanently, Morelli. She does have her uses.”
I step closer, ignoring Matteo as I breathe into her ear. My fingers tangle with hers, gripping them. “Lead the way then, sweetheart.”
She shrinks back from me, but my hand slides around her waist. “Run if you like. I don’t mind a chase.”
I glance at Matteo, but he only waves us away. “Enjoy yourself.”
I don’t look over my shoulder as she leads me through the crowd, although I can feel Dom’s stare burning into my back. His anger prickles at my neck, but I only pause to grab a fresh bottle of champagne and two glasses before I gesture towards the door. “Hurry up.”
Amie’s mouth is a thin line as we leave the room. We walk down the hall in silence, and I keep my eyes on her, swaying and letting out a hiccup as we pass the men on duty.
She pauses at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes on the floor as she addresses the men standing there. “Matteo’s orders.”
The leers in their stare as they let her through turn to amusement when I wink at them. “Twenty says that you hear her screaming my name in the next thirty minutes, boys.”
Their laughter trails after us.
Her back is rigid as she leads me up those stairs. She’s not paying any attention to me as we leave the soldiers behind, and I shift my focus from her completely when we reach the upstairs hall.
It’s almost silent, the only muffled noise coming from the party downstairs. I glance down the carpeted space ahead of us, taking in the closed doors.
Amie hovers next to the door closest to us, her arms wrapped around herself. But her eyes watch me, wary.
My smile reappears, my eyes narrowing as I wave a hand. “After you.”
The guest room is neat and bland, shades of cream and not much else aside from a bed and a sideboard. I glance around, surreptitiously searching for any hint that we’re being watched as I stroll to the sideboard and set the glasses down, pouring two glasses.
Her voice is surprisingly steady. “Get on with it, then.”
I raise an eyebrow at the taut words as I turn. She’s already reaching for the back of her dress, and that hollow expression on her face tells me everything about her recent experiences.
She flinches when my hand covers hers, stopping her from dragging her zip down. I drag my finger over her bare shoulder. “I like a little conversation first.”
Amie slowly takes the glass when I nudge it into her hand and gesture to the edge of the bed. “Take a seat. Relax.”
I grab my own glass before I sit beside her, watching out of the corner of my eye as she sips it first, before downing the glass. “How have you been?”
Her shoulders hunch. “Fine.”
Shifting closer, I brush against her shoulder again, pushing her blonde hair back. She flinches when I breathe into her ear. “Cameras? I don’t like an audience.”
But she shakes her head, stiffening. “Not up here.”
Slowly, I pull back from her. “Then you won’t get in trouble if we have a little chat. Before the fun begins.”
She glances over her shoulder at the bed, her face drawn. “What do you want to talk about?”
I rise, refilling her glass. “That depends. Can you keep a secret, Amie?”
Careful.
I keep my voice light. I’ve spent three fucking months waiting for an opportunity like this one. I don’t intend to waste it.
She eyes me, warier now, as her fingers clutch the stem of her glass, tight enough that it threatens to snap. “No.”
I hum. “Wise. It must have been quite a change for you, with Matteo taking over.”
That vacant look enters her face again. She stares down at the pale liquid, not answering.
Joseph Corvo’s widow.
My voice softens in realization, and it’s not intentional, not rehearsed. Sitting beside her, I keep a respectful distance between us. “What happened?”
She catches my glance down, the question in my words. Her hand wraps around her stomach. Her flat stomach. “What do you think? Matteo took over, and he eliminated the competition.”
There’s bitterness there, bitterness and rage beneath her words.
My heart feels heavy. So many victims of this fucking war, all for the sake of control of the Cosa Nostra. “I’m sorry, Amie. Truly.”
But she’s shaking her head. Her hand trembles badly as it moves to her back again, reaching for that zip. “Just… get on with it. Please.”
A plea. A small sound echoes in her throat when I capture her hands, pulling them down to her lap. Amie stares down as I kneel in front of her. “I’m not going to fuck you.”
It’s not relief that lingers on her face, but panic. “But Matteo, he’ll – please—,”
“He won’t know. He’ll believe that we did exactly what he expects to happen. I’ll make sure of it.”
Her shoulders relax an inch, even as she frowns. “Why would you do that?”
I hesitate. “Because this is wrong. And because my heart belongs to someone else.”
She swallows. “And where are they now?”
“She’s married. To Salvatore Asante.”
Amie’s reaction doesn’t disappoint. She pales, the tiny hint of color in her cheeks leeching away as she glances toward the door. “Cat. You’re searching for Cat?”
“Have you seen her?”
I have to ask, can’t stop the words from slipping free. Desperate for any little piece of her, even though only three days have passed since our last meeting. Three days to torture myself with her empty stare, her whispered words.
What that fucker has done to her… my chest constricts.
Breathe.
When I move to get up, her hands cover mine, and I glance up.
There’s trepidation there, but something else too. The first hint of life that I’ve truly seen from her. “You love her?”
“More than my own life.” I give her that honesty, let her see a glimpse of the pain that haunts me every fucking moment of every day.
She looks down at our hands. “And are you… looking for anything else?”
She frames it in such a way that it could easily be taken as an invitation.
But every muscle in my body locks up, tightens, as that hope rushes back in.
“Yes,” I breathe, almost silently. “I am. Is she here, Amie?”
Please. If there is any fucking god up there – please.
Amie closes her eyes. Nods. “She’s here. She is safe.”
I stumble back from her. Land on my ass, my hands moving to my face.
She’s here.
She is safe.
Caterina’s daughter.Dante’s daughter.
Three months of selling my soul, all for this moment.
The air moves beside me, and I glance to Amie. Her face is tight. Drawn. “You’re going to get her out. Right?”
I only nod, my throat tight. “I made a promise that I would.”
I promised Caterina that I would bring her daughter home.
And I failed her.
I crawled after that car, crawled to try and reach Alessia even after the miles stretched out between us. And when Gio patched me up, I waited only until my insides weren’t on the verge of falling out to come here. To stroll in, a smile on my lips, as if Matteo hadn’t left me to die on the side of the road. As if it was all an entertaining game.
Luciano Morelli, the playboy. Here for a good time, not a long time.
For three months, I’ve shredded my soul to pieces almost every fucking night just to watch as Matteo’s eyes slowly shifted from suspicious to entertained at my antics.
The man whore, the one that every girl here fights over.
He has no idea that it’s because I feed them, listen to them and let them sleep, instead of beating them and fucking them like Matteo and his friends.
And now… I finally have a chance at redemption.
“How? How will you get her out?” She grips me, urgency in her eyes.
I run through the questions I’ve been saving for this moment. “Who takes care of her?”
She offers me the saddest smile I’ve ever seen. “I do. She’s fine, Luc. I swear it. He hasn’t touched her. He doesn’t bother with her at all, really.”
So much pain on her face. As if maybe Alessia is the one good thing she has.
We take up our places on the end of the bed, our whispers almost silent as we discuss the best way to get her out.
Matteo will not just let me walk out with Alessia in my arms. There are soldiers watching the stairs, the entrance. Three months, just to get upstairs.
Amie picks at a loose thread of cotton on the bed. “There is a tunnel. Cat and I used to play in it, when we were young. It runs from the main suite to the kitchen. I doubt Matteo even knows it’s there.”
I think it over. “That could work. The kitchen staff?”
She shakes her head. “Most of them are gone. Dead, or they ran. Only Fernandez and a few of the maids are still around. Fernandez – I think he may be loyal to Cat. He’s the one who arranges what I need for Alessia.”
So many loose ends. So much that could go wrong.
“His birthday.” Amie keeps picking, dragging that thread loose until the bedding begins to unravel beneath her shaking fingers. “He’ll be too drunk to notice. You can take her then, if you can get to the kitchen. I’ll bring her to you. They have their own exit, but you’ll need to make sure the way is clear.”
A week from today. One week, until I can bring her home.
Amie stills when I grasp her hand. I dip my head, making sure she can see my face. “You’re coming with us.”
A shadow across her face. “Cat will not want to see me. My father betrayed Joseph. Betrayed the Cosa Nostra.”
And Caterina killed him for it. I search her face for any sign that she’s angling for revenge, that she’ll use this discussion to make us all pay. But she meets my gaze, her chin up.
“I don’t blame her for it,” she says quietly. “You tell her that. My father… first, he sold me to Joseph like meat at a market. Then he did the same with Matteo. This world is a better place without him in it.”
“You can tell her yourself. She won’t blame you for her father’s actions. We’re getting you out of here, Amie.”
Her eyes glimmer, and she glances away. “We’ll see. Alessia is the priority. If she can get out – that’s enough.”
When we are done planning, she jerks when I pull the bedding back. A hint of fear fills the air. “What are you doing?”
I step away, gesturing. “They’ll expect us to be a while yet. You may as well get some sleep while you can. You look like you need it.”
None of the girls here get enough sleep. All of them dragged from their beds at any hour of the day or night at Matteo’s whim.
Slowly, she shifts, crawling under the bedding. I tug the covers over her before moving to stand close to the door. “I’ll keep watch and wake you when it’s time to go.”
She doesn’t say anything as she curls up.
As her breathing deepens into disturbed sleep, her body tossing and turning, I use the time to rumple my clothes, my hair. Pinch my lower lip until it swells. Add to the perception that we’ve spent several hours rolling around in that bed.
And then I let the thoughts in. My throat begins to ache as I stare down at my fingers. Half of my nails are still missing.
Permanently altered. As I have been.