Chapter Three
Two Days Later
“We don’t have to stay here,” Elsie said, stepping into the kitchen where Massimo was glancing through the fridge. The man never had to cook for himself. He didn’t know his way around the kitchen.
Stepping toward him, she nudged him out of the way with her hip and grabbed the food they would need for breakfast. She wanted scrambled eggs and bacon, and seeing as she could cook and he couldn’t, they were eating what she cooked. She turned on the grill to preheat and then began to crack eggs into a bowl. Massimo moved toward the counter and took his seat.
This reminded her of their honeymoon. The first morning, Massimo tried to cook, but it had been close to a disaster. The sausages had been raw in the center, and she was pretty sure he’d gotten shell in the eggs. It was sweet, but she’d taken over and they’d been able to eat.
In fact, she cooked for Massimo often, much to Lucas, the chef’s, chagrin. Not that the home chef said anything. At first Lucas hadn’t liked her being in his kitchen. Massimo reminded the chef that it was his home, the kitchen belonged to him, and by extension, Elsie. She didn’t want to make waves, so she got Lucas to teach her everything he knew, and they had become friends. Now, the chef looked forward to her arrival in the kitchen. She wondered how he was doing. This was the longest she’d been away from home, and in a strange way, she missed them all.
Massimo’s home was never empty. He had chefs and cleaners, maids, and even butlers, as well as soldiers. Elsie had befriended multiple people, much to Massimo and even the employees’ surprise. They liked her and she liked them.
Also, when they had guests, she made sure Massimo’s employees were treated with the utmost respect.
Within the first week of her being Massimo’s wife, they had a dinner, and she discovered one of the capo’s wives slapping one of the maids. All the woman had done was taken her coat, but the wife in question had felt it had been too … aggressive.
She’d been about to slap the woman again, but Elsie had caught the woman’s hand and reminded her that this was her home, and if she dared strike one of her employees again, she would have no problems dishing it out. She didn’t believe in violence, nor did she condone it, however, she knew sometimes it was the only way.
Elsie would never have hit the woman, although she reckoned she would have given her a broken nose. Word got out that their staff was off limits, and so Elsie had been … accepted. She hadn’t done it to be accepted or make her life easier. She was doing what was right.
“And yes, we do need to stay here,” Massimo said.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re so stubborn.”
“Look in the mirror, babe. The only reason we’re here is because you decided to run away.”
“I had good reason.”
“No, you didn’t. You believed the lies Isabella told you, and instead of coming to me, you decided to run.” He tutted. “We’re not leaving until you say you believe me, and you know I’m not ever going to leave you.”
“Don’t you think this is pointless?” she asked.
“No.”
“You’re being stubborn.”
“No, I’m not. I know Isabella is going to be a pain in the ass. I know she is up to something, and as much as I’d love to kill her, I’m not ready to start a war.”
“A war?” Elsie asked.
“Killing fellow capos’ daughters doesn’t come without consequences,” Massimo said. “I had told you this on many occasions. There is a certain level of finesse, and with Isabella as popular as she is, there would be consequences, and I will not allow anything bad to happen to you.”
“You know I don’t get all your mafia politics.” She blew out a breath.
“You don’t need to.”
“I don’t know. What if I was to slap her?” Elsie asked. “Would I then be whipped or killed?”
“Would you slap her?” Massimo asked.
“That’s beside the point.”
“I have yet to see you hurt a fly.” Massimo smiled.
“Look, I know … I don’t like it, okay. Trust me, when you don’t have a choice, and it sucks, it’s not a good feeling.” She felt herself tensing up. There were some things she had never told Massimo. “I was about fourteen. I can’t even remember what foster home number it was. I lost count after ten.” She stopped and took a breath. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “It was a mixed house. Boys and girls. It’s not unusual. I mean, there were some places with all girls, so I assume there were all-boy places as well.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” he said.
She knew that was a lie. Massimo always wanted her to tell him stuff from her past. It was strange, as he always seemed to listen.
“The guys were slightly older, sixteen, seventeen. They kept talking about life outside the home, and getting their own place. Anyway, they were mean. They were bullies, and I wasn’t the new girl. I’d been with some of the guys a few times at other homes, I’d even run with a few of them. We always got caught. Anyway, there was a new girl, she’d not been in the system long. Some kind of mess with Social Services and her mom. I don’t know the details. All I know is she wasn’t supposed to be in the system. One of the guys, the leader, took a liking to her. It wasn’t reciprocated. One night, he … tried to … rape her.”
Elsie stopped. It was a memory she hated.
“I heard the screams. The foster parents weren’t home. It was just me and a couple of the guys, and, well, they didn’t stop him, but I did.” Elsie looked over at Massimo. “He wasn’t going to stop, so I had no choice. I grabbed his knife and jammed it so hard into his side, punctured his lung, and I’d already taken the other two by surprise. They were not expecting me to fight.”
“You shouldn’t have had to go through that,” he said, wanting to kill the kids. “None of this is on your record.”
She laughed. “You had me checked out.”
“I needed to know who you were.”
“I’m not surprised. It was … covered up. The girl was taken the next day back to her parents. She was actually rich, and something had gotten messed up. To thank me, she made sure I didn’t have a criminal record, and she also paid me.”
****
Massimo had known his wife didn’t have the greatest start in life. She’d never been quite so trustworthy of anyone. Even when he visited the café just to see her, she never believed he was there just on business. She had a right not to believe him, because he hadn’t just been there for business, but because he couldn’t help himself. He’d literally fallen for her from the first moment.
“Did the state take your money?” he asked.
“No.”
“The system?”
“No.”
“A caregiver?” he asked. He was going to find everyone who did this woman wrong, and he was going to kill them all.
“No. I had that money, Massimo. Why do you think I was able to stay in a nice place? Granted, it wasn’t nice like this, but it was better than what I could have afforded. I’ve worked nonstop since I got out of the system. Even before I got out, I was taking jobs, working as a waitress, or a dog walker, or delivering stuff, whatever I could do to earn cash, because I knew the moment I turned the right age, I was done. They’d toss me out because I was no longer a burden to them.”
He didn’t even want to think of his wife being alone.
“So, that’s why I choose not to fight.”
“Whatever happened to him?” Massimo asked. “Also, what was his name again?”
Elsie smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “So you can go and teach him a lesson?”
“Some people need to be taught a lot of lessons.”
“There’s no point. He died not long after he got out of the system. A convenience store robbery. He wasn’t expecting the owner to have a gun, or something. I’m not sure.”
“Shit,” he said.
She shrugged. “I didn’t cry. It wasn’t the first time people died from the system.”
And once again he realized just how different they were. Elsie had witnessed so much, and he had a feeling she’d known of people, even young kids, that had killed themselves.
Death was a big part of his world. They killed traitors and people who dared step out of line. He was one of the youngest men to have made it within the mafia. He’d killed when he was young, and he did it to protect Romero.
Their dad had told him to take Romero out to the local park. He’d said it was time the boys got out and had some fun. The truth was, his dad needed the house to do some bad shit—kill some people—and he didn’t have anyone to take care of his sons. Sending them out to the local park was the only solution. It was a freezing cold day, and there were no kids, because no one was stupid enough to send their kids out in that weather. At least they had been wrapped up warm before they left the house. Anyway, Romero had decided to take the opportunity to play.
He’d not been interested in playing himself. He’d wanted to know what his father was up to. Romero was a guy who took life as it came, and while Massimo had been planning to head back to the house, to sneak up on his father and find out what he was doing, someone had snuck up on them.
The bastard had grabbed hold of Romero and attempted to press a hand over his mouth. The man had been large, but Massimo had seen the insignia on his neck. He’d been part of the Bratva. The enemy of his father and the Italian mafia.
Massimo had known what his father was, and he’d started to pay attention to the conversations his parents were having, or at least the ones his father was having with the men that came to visit. This man was the enemy.
When his father had sent him away, Massimo never went unarmed. He’d taken a gun from his father’s stash. For many years, he’d been practicing to shoot. His father trained him early, and it started with some dirt cans. Massimo knew if he didn’t make that shot, Romero would be gone, and the only life he’d have would be in a box.
The Bratva killed. He couldn’t allow anyone to take his brother. Not because his father would be pissed, but because he loved his brother. They were a team, and they had each other’s back.
The man didn’t take him seriously, but Massimo got the last laugh, because he fired the gun. It hit the man between the eyes, and Romero was able to break free before he was under the weight of the dead man.
Massimo recalled not caring. He’d killed a man, but he didn’t care. It was either him or his brother, and there had been no choice. Massimo had stayed with the body and sent Romero to tell his father. He’d been hailed a hero, and from that point on, his father had increased his training. Even at a young age, his father had known his son would win the respect of the mafia.
For many years, before he died, his father had said he had a gift—a gift of killing.
Staring at Elsie, he knew there was one person in this world he couldn’t kill, nor did he want to. His wife.