20. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
Alessandrio
“ I s nothing sacred anymore?” The icy wind tosses my words across the stone balcony.
“As the son of chaos, I would expect you to not hold anything in such high regard as to be sacred.” Lorenzo’s words meet the same fate.
“Then you don’t know me as well as you think, uncle.”
His gentle chuckle grates on me. I pick up the bottle beside me and take a long pull from its neck, the liquor burning its way through my veins.
“I know you well enough to find you,” he says, stepping up beside me at the railing to look out at a city teeming with life.
How could anyone feel alone amongst this? And yet it’s the fucking loneliest place on earth. Like all that life, serves to remind you of how little you truly have in the shadows. I take another burning swig and suppress the urge to ask why? Why do he and my brother want to torment me in such a way? Or even to ask myself why I went back down there. That question has been haunting me since I found my way onto Emilio’s old penthouse balcony, an escape from my apartment, which is now haunted by another.
“She is going to help us.” My uncle’s words curl out before us.
“Apparently.” I don’t even try to hide the bitterness in my tone.
“It’s probably for the best this way. The Dolmino rat doesn’t strike me as the kind to put his life on the line for a half sister.” That was the hardest pill to swallow— half sister, I should have read her entire file. “He believes himself to be too important. With her making a play for the head of the Dolmino family, he will have to come out of hiding to defend what he believes to be rightfully his.”
“None of the Dolmino allies will support a female on the throne.” Hard truths they want to pretend to ignore.
“This is all make believe Alessio. She will not take the seat. We won’t allow it. But in our make believe world, with you enforcing her position and Emilio backing her play, none will deny her.”
“You sound like you have this all figured out, so why don’t you take her?” My grip on the bottle tightens dangerously as I wait for his reply.
“My name holds some weight with fear, but none hold it as much as the name Alessandrio Greco,” he says simply. “You will be her shield against those who would protest her rise, and her defense against the devil when he contests her rights.”
“He will kill her.”
“And that is why she needs you.”
I huff out a soft bark of laughter and scrub a frustrated hand down my face.
“I am to be a fucking sideshow in the circus we call the Mafia then,” I growl in frustration.
“Your brother is handling it fine,” Lorenzo says, prying the bottle from my hand and taking a swig. “According to Lucia, even the ladies have had their interest piqued. I have no doubt you have a few fans amongst the women left who would enjoy finding out what has Lucia so enamoured.”
“Luring me in with pussy, are we?”
He laughs into the night. “Your reputation hasn’t been forgotten.”
It’s my turn to laugh, but there is no humor in it. My re-emergence will shatter my reputation. This is a farce. Olivia will be in well over her head.
“Where is she?” I ask, forcing ignorance.
“I put her in one of your guest rooms,” An unsettling knowledge. “She was dead on her feet and I am sure she is fast asleep by now.”
I reach for the bottle. The thought of her asleep, curled up in my shirt, in one of my rooms, disturbing my senses. Lorenzo dangles the bottle out of reach, shifting to face me.
“You need your wits about you.” Darkness shifts across his features as I reluctantly face him. Eyes similar to my own, reflecting the light of the city. “This—” he holds up the bottle—“Won’t help.”
“What are you—” he pours the contents of the bottle into the open air over the railing. The look I shoot him is nothing but murderous as I roll my neck. “You spilled my alcohol,” I snarl.
“You ruined my gift,” he replies simply, no apathy in his voice.
“If you mean returning my apartment to its original state, then maybe next time you will double check with the occupant before shitting your money down the drain.”
“Note to self: Alessandrio Greco likes his space to reflect his image.” I can’t help but laugh at his insolence.
“You’re funny, old man.” It’s his turn to chuckle. “What am I going to do with her?” I ask in all seriousness, still questioning their decision.
“Educate her, coach her on what she is about to do. Go through what she may come up against, how she should behave in our society once she is out in the open. She may be terrified, but I saw a spark of intelligence in her eyes when your brother was laying out all his cards.”
The mention of her eyes stokes a strange yearning in the pit of my stomach. How long has it been since I’ve seen her? Maybe an hour? Fuck. A war begins to rage in me. I really wish this motherfucker didn’t launch my remedy off the balcony.
“Why did you come back down?” My eyes snap up to my uncle, shoulders tensing at a question I’ve been trying not to ask myself. “When you brought her down, you left and then you came back,” he says, as if to clarify his meaning.
I’m losing the reins on my temper. First they dismiss me, then they make plans but don’t consult me, put our enemies’ sister under my roof, and then he pours out my only coping mechanism. He’s pushing it, and if it were Emilio, violence would have ensued. Lorenzo, however, is human. He cannot match my speed or strength.
“I am done with this,” I growl low and without further word, I turn on my paws and stalk back into the apartment.
My brother destroyed the space after he sent Lucia home. Now he is fixing it up, intending it for guests. Something about that only fuels my anger. He’s not here anymore, not trapped in this building with me. He has a wife, a home and a bigger purpose now and that cuts deeply. After years of being kept mentally separate because of our roles in the family, we finally had some common ground. Our curse made us closer. Though now he is moving forward, and I am being left behind in the shadows.
I fucked up. This was meant to be cut and dry. She was meant to be worth something, our ticket to getting Riccardo close enough to kill. Now, I am being punished. I step off the elevator and into my apartment. Darkness and silence greet me. It wouldn’t be so out of the ordinary if I didn’t know who was sleeping in one of my guest rooms.
Night fills the living room, coloring the space in shades of black and grey. The only light is shining in from the wall of glass, the couch in front of it cutting a bulky shape. Intending to replace my earlier losses, I round the marble counter and enter the kitchen. My hand hangs in midair, the darkness of the room complimenting its monstrous shape. Fucking Lorenzo—always the voice of reason. With a frustrated growl, I turn my back. He’s right, as much as I hate it. I need my wits about me. This is a foolish gamble. The Mafia is not a place for the gentle and they fucking know it. She’s not ready. She will be in over her pretty little head.
And yet she could be a fox in sheep’s clothing. A double agent. My brother doesn’t fully know her. Olivia could have just fed us the story of Riccardo wanting her dead, to get us with our pants down and then let him move in for the kill. Shit. Fucking shit. I pry my phone from my pocket and pull up my messages.
Me: What if this is all a ploy? What if she is in league with Riccardo? We are giving them the leverage they need to regain their power.
I watch those little bubbles spring up below my message.
Emilio: Then it’s a good thing she is with you.
Me: And what if I am right?
Emilio: Then you kill her.
This is the Mafia, where family holds utmost importance, and death is dealt out like chips at a casino table. My eyes bore into that message. I have never killed a woman before, never even hurt one, even the thought of it unsettles me. Emilio hasn’t either: the boss only kills when he is making an example of someone. For him, it’s easy to order death when your hands get to remain clean. All is fair in our world. It may seem harsh, but when you play with fire, you must know there’s a chance you will get burned. The Mafia baptizes their children in the fire, so they know the risks from a young age. Those who enter from the outside, who come willingly with intentions of sharing in the pie, should know that sometimes, the pie isn’t worth the price.
How much of a baptism did Olivia have? Did Narciso’s fire forge a snake in the grass? Or was it smothered before the smoke could even poison? Emilio was right. It is a good thing she is with me. I will uncover any treachery hiding and lay all her secrets bare.
My paws move down the hall, stopping at the closed door to my guest room. I press my ear against it, but no noise elicits from the inside. Turning the handle with care, so as not to disturb its occupant, I nudge the door open. It’s pitch black inside, and I use my phone to return my vision. Reaching out a hand towards the bed, I let the soft glow of the screen settle over its occupant. Her back is to me. A tangle of golden curls grace the pillow, still damp from her shower. I take a tentative step forward, knowing the click of my nails against the tiles might alert her to my presence as much as the glowing light. She doesn’t move though, doesn’t even shift as I hover the phone over her sleeping form. My body stirs, my jaw clenching around my salivating tongue in an attempt to draw blood as I raise the light to her sleeping face in hopes it will be the ice in my veins to quell my misplaced desire.
She is the enemy until proven otherwise. An enemy with the face of an angel, and there is the fucking catch. With those steely eyes closed, she could pass as someone else. She could be any beautiful woman. But the moment she opens them, I will see the reminders of all she is. For now, however, with my phone light hovering over her sleeping face, I can admire a thing of beauty without the mark of the devil. For now, she is just a girl, wrapped in my shirt, sleeping in one of my beds and totally unaware of everything that is yet to come.