35. Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Four
Olivia
I t is a takeover. A violent one that both shocks and unnerves me. Alessandrio killed my father. Alessandrio just killed that man. Killed him with hands that had touched me in ways I had hungered for these past few days. Killed my father. That knowledge tastes a lot like a betrayal. I may not have known my father, but thanks to Alessandrio, any chance of knowing him was taken from me. His death was something I had accepted, and I knew the Greco’s had a hand in it. It’s entirely different knowing the monster I shared my bed with had killed my father with the same hands he touched me with. Bile burns up my throat at the sight of him in this moment, clawed fingers dripping with blood and gore. His blue eyes are menacing as they stare me down, his teeth bared as he breathes heavily; killing has exerted him.
I look at Emilio, not sure what I had hoped to see there, but he is lost in low conversation with Lorenzo. Heartbeats pass, and the room is buzzing. The Dolmino associates have given Alessandrio a wide berth. The Greco men look amused, like this is a regular occurrence which makes me feel dirty. And all the while, I feel the heaviness of the devil’s eyes on me. I breathe easier when Lorenzo steps into my line of sight, drawing me back into myself.
“I am to take you back to the car. Emilio will clear this mess up.” He gestures for me to precede him.
“Clear this mess up?” My voice is high and sharp. “He just murdered someone!” That threat of bile burns closer and I swallow it back.
“Come now,” Lorenzo says, firmly gripping my upper arm and leading me to the door. “I will explain everything when we are outside.”
“Like what happened when he killed my father?” I whisper desperately and watch the older Greco wince.
I am too stunned to say anything as Lorenzo steers me back down through the hall. When we step into the alleyway, I am glad for the cold sharp air that slaps my face and helps me to control my senses. I need to breathe. I don’t want to sit in a car and wait for them, for him, to return. Panic and confusion begin a slow swell in my head that makes my teeth chatter.
“No.” I wrench from Lorenzo’s grip.
Unprepared for my sudden break for freedom, he reaches for me, but I elude him and run. This was the moment that at the start of this journey, I had longed for. A chance to run from these people, run from the monster who had taken me a way and so wickedly confused every part of my entire being. I just need to breathe. My heels clack on cement as I round the corner from the alley and stumble to a stop. The street is busy with people. Every direction I look, people are just going about their day, unaware of the horrors moving beneath the surface.
“Olivia!” Lorenzo calls, jogging toward me.
I cast one weary glance back at him before plunging into the throng of people using the crosswalk. His sharp curse makes me look back. He's turning back down the alleyway and disappears from sight by the time I cross the street. I walk briskly, staying with the crowds, keeping my head down, wishing I had my sneakers on. There is safety in numbers though, Alessandrio won’t risk being seen like this, and even Lorenzo wouldn’t attempt to snatch a girl from the street. I chance a look up, only to ensure I am staying with the crowd and see a black SUV, its heavily tinted glass blocking its occupant from view. It’s following me, moving slowly and staying close to the sidewalk. A car behind blares its horn, the driver swearing out the window to no avail as the large black car shadows me down the street, like a predator stalking its prey.
I keep my head down, ignoring it and everyone else around me. I should run, flee this life and all the ugly things that come with it. Where would you go? That niggling voice of reason questions. I have no identification and no money. Even if I could elude whoever is sitting behind the wheel, where would I go? Alessandrio doesn’t strike me as the kind of person to just let me leave easily. He would hunt me like he did before, and I am so fucked up that even the thought of that sends a thrill down my spine. I ache for him, have ached for him these past few days, unsure of why he kept his distance. Tears prick my eyes because I have never felt so utterly torn. I was right when we spoke earlier: I have no self preservation left since I met him. He is a monster and a murderer, and yet I feel safer with him than I have ever felt in my life.
Brushing my tears away and straightening my back, I walk with a purpose. It feels like hours since I started walking, thanks to my aching feet. All the while, horns blare as that black SUV slowly crawls behind me like an over-large shadow. With a deep sigh of resignation, I turn into the street, stepping off the curb and into its path. My feet are throbbing, but more acutely, I know that it’s fruitless—I am not going anywhere. I walk to the passenger side and open the door, cautious to not reveal the occupant, just in case. Disappointment, however, slams into me when I see Lorenzo behind the wheel. He looks pissed but relieved as I climb in.
“I am too old for this shit,” he huffs and pulls away from the curb.
I check the back seat and note its emptiness.
“Where are they?”
“They left. He’s in a rage. He thinks you made a run for it. Emilio took him home to get him to clean up.” His phone rings, but instead of answering through the bluetooth, he raises the device to his ear. Undoubtedly, so I can’t hear the exchange on the other end.
I hear Emilio’s voice snarl down the line, the words indecipherable. “I’ve got her, she got back in the car.” Someone snarls deeply and I feel my anxiety rise. Emilio says something else, but I still can’t quite make it out. “I am bringing her home now,” Lorenzo replies. He hangs up and takes a ragged breath. “Were you trying to escape?”
“No,” I reply weakly, watching the busy streets pass by. “Did he really kill my father?” I am not sure I even want to know, and yet I need to know. Need to piece together my feelings and a past that still seems to haunt me.
“Your father was our enemy, your brother and him were responsible for my brother’s murder.” There is anger in his voice that pulls me from my pity party. “The Mafia is good at creating cycles of revenge,” he continues on behind clenched teeth. “Someone kills someone’s family member and revenge is swift and usually twice as vicious. Violence truly begets violence in our world.”
“What happens when no one is left?” What happens when everyone you love dies?
“A power vacuum, which leads to greater violence, and the cycle continues.” His words make me choke on tears.
“I hate this world you have all dropped me into.”
“You have every right to be pissed. I would be. And yet there is no safer place for you than with Alessandrio.”
“He’s a murderer,” I whisper, the truth of my words hanging heavy in the air.
“We are all murderers. Every made man has to murder. The man he killed today has probably killed countless people himself. Alessandrio is just as much a victim of this organization as you are. He is what our world made of him. Neither of my nephews ever stood a chance at a normal, safe life.”
I have so many other questions I want to ask, so many things I need answers to, and yet I know I can’t handle anymore right now. So I watch the streets slide by, my nerves going taut the closer we get to home and to him. I had wanted nothing more than to be around him these past few days, anticipated every moment we spent together and fought the tang of disappointment when he put distance between us. Now he is in a rage and I am a mess of revelations. And it’s those revelations that fill my head until the car is bumping over that grate into the basement garage.
“Can you send Emilio down?” Lorenzo asks, and I can only nod numbly as I open the door and slide out onto the concrete. “Hey,” he calls gently and I meet his eyes, so like his nephews, but so kind by comparison. “He would never hurt you, not just because of his past, but because I think you are something different.” I feel my brow pinch with confusion.
“Right,” I nod, feeling utterly lost by his words. “Thanks for the lift,” I add, before closing the door.
For the first time, I use the bell on the elevator and when it opens, its emptiness has me feeling somewhat relieved as I step in. I expected Alessandrio to be inside, his rage unable to be contained in that vast apartment of his. When the doors slide open onto the empty hall, that relief turns to disappointment and worse—anxiety. My heels clack against the tiles as I make my way toward the living room, and when I turn the corner, my breath whooshes out of me. Emilio is alone, his beastly face set with grim lines and my feet stop of their own volition. Heavy bass echoes from somewhere deeper in the apartment and I feel that shadow of disappointment that Alessandrio is nowhere in sight, but feel relief knowing exactly where he is.
“Is it over then?” I question, and Emilio’s eyes narrow even further.
“Is what over?” he answers gruffly.
“The ruse? My play for power. Alessandrio ruined it, no?”
Emilio straightens up, crossing powerful arms over his broad chest, his fingers dipped in black but absent of the sharp tips his brother… his brother… Oh God. Did Alessandrio’s claw tipped hands truly unravel me and yet so easily take a life? I blanch at the idea and turn my face away.
“Unfortunately for you, you will have to play boss for a little longer. My brother ruined nothing, if anything, his little show solidified your play for power.”
My head snaps up, mind racing as my mouth spills thoughtless words. “They didn’t pull out?”
“No, the men of the Mafia like two things: money and power. You have the money and Alessandrio has the power. They have accepted the idea of your reign.”
I float to the bar stool and sit down hard. My whole life has become one big conflict of emotions. I am relieved they have accepted me so that it wasn’t all for nothing and yet terrified about what that now means.
“Riccardo will be murderous,” I whisper, tracing my finger on the marble countertop.
“That was the goal, but you have nothing to worry about. Alessandrio will protect you.” His voice is strong and sure.
And yet. “I am sure right now he is just as murderous.” I lift my eyes to meet Emilio’s gaze, hoping he will give me something, maybe a little of his strength, to give me courage.
“You ran off today,” he says simply, eyes hard. “He didn’t know what to make of it. We didn’t know what to make of it. Luckily, Lorenzo followed you and you met with no one, attempted to contact no one.”
“You still think I am a double agent?” I ask weakly.
“I actually don’t. I actually think he doesn’t anymore either. When you took off, however, I saw some of that questioning, some of that vulnerability in his rage. I don’t know what you have done to my brother, but I know that whatever it is, it is confusing him.”
“Confusing him?” I burst out, unable to stop the sharp laugh that spills out behind the words. I lower my voice, desperate not to be heard by other ears. “You have absolutely no idea how fucking confusing any of this is for me.” I stab a finger into my chest. “I was kidnapped by him, threatened by him, and deceived by him. And yet I am enthralled by him, attracted to him and was even desperate to return to him this afternoon.” Taking a steadying breath, I meet his eyes. “The only person who might actually understand, even an ounce of how I feel, is your wife.”
I don’t like the idea of bringing Lucia into this, uncertain if it’s crossing a line for him and I hold my breath. A smile slashes across his face, making him look even more vicious with those canines exposed.
“I think she would probably agree with that. I was the one who was confused by her attraction. She has been tied to me since her father signed the contract. Even when I—” He pauses, face becoming shadowed, those blue eyes distant. “Your brother tortured her.” I see what it cost him to get those words out, hear him choke over them as my stomach bottoms out.
To think of his beautiful, sweet wife being… tortured by anyone, let alone my brother, is unacceptable. And yet it clarifies so much for me, all of Alessandrio’s hatred, Emilio’s caution. My family killed their father, my brother tortured this man’s wife. The same blood that runs through my veins ran through theirs.
“I—”
He waves away any words with a swipe of a hand.
“I let her go after that, sent her back to her parents. A pathetic attempt at keeping her safe, but it almost ruined me.” He is looking at me, but not really seeing me. Those unsettling eyes are distant and unreadable. “There is so much at stake here, Olivia, so much more than anyone really knows. I have to right a wrong and put your brother in the ground. She will never be truly safe because she is part of the Mafia and married to a Don, but I have to eliminate the insidious curse that is Riccardo Dolmino.”
The silence when he finishes stretches, both of us trapped in thoughts, and I can’t help but wonder if my face looks as haunted as his. A phone buzzes and I see a soft smile play across his mouth.
“She must feel me talking about her,” he says wistfully. “I’m going now.”
I watch him quietly, still haunted by images of Lucia being hurt by monsters that wear the faces of men. He pauses at the entrance to the elevator hall and faces me once more.
“He’s in a predictably foul mood. Give him some time and he will seek you out when he’s ready.” I nod dumbly, and he turns to leave.
For a long moment, I stare at the view outside. I may have run a little before, but the urge to run more, to exhaust and distract myself from what Alessandrio is thinking, has me walking to my room. I take less than five minutes to strip down, pull a sports bra, tank and shorts on. My sneakers fit like a glove, hugging my feet and when I step onto the treadmill, I up the pace. A leisurely run won’t chase the demons from my head. It needs to be an all-out sprint for my life, heart racing and leg muscles burning to exorcise them all from my mind.
When the door opens and Alessandrio steps into the room, I see him on the wall of mirrors. My hand slaps down on the emergency stop, and I jump, planting my feet on either side of the tread belt to stop myself from eating shit. We stare at one another in the mirrors, his eyes heavy with menace and I would stop breathing if my lungs weren’t burning and demanding I gulp down more air. He’s wearing black sweatpants, hung low on his hips and I don’t even try to deny my eyes the feast so magnanimously laid out before me.
“Now that you are warmed up, let’s go,” his reflection says.
“Where?” I gasp, still breathless, and face him.
“You will see,” he says elusively and tosses something at me. “You’ll need that for a bit.”
I shake out a large black sweatshirt before casting him a weary look. The way he is staring at me is deeply unsettling, his eyes giving nothing away—no anger, no lust, just nothing.
“Now come,” he says without his usual force as he turns and leaves the room.
Again, I am taken by how much I longed to see him and now I have had a glimpse, I am not ready to lose sight of him. I rush after him, well aware that so many alarm bells should go off right now, so many questions I should be firing at him. All I can do, however, is watch as his powerful back ripples with each step he takes toward the elevator and follow him.
“Put that on,” he says again as we step into it.
“Are you going to tell me where we are going?” I ask, pulling the sweatshirt over my head.
His scent hits me like a palm to the face and I bite down the urge to bury my nose in the collar and take a big whiff.
“I’m taking you to do something that we both need,” he says simply.
I don’t like this. Don’t like his too calm manner: it doesn’t suit him and makes me painfully aware of my own emotions stirring beneath my skin. When we get to the basement, I expect him to head toward one of his luxury sports cars, but when he makes a bee line for the black van with its heavily tinted windows, a knot forms in my stomach. I climb into my side and as we leave, my mind begins a race of its own accord. What is he taking me to do? Is he going to end this? When I ran today, did I burn down our tentative house of trust? So many thoughts stumble through my head, each one more disturbing than the last as we drive in the heavy silence through a city alive with people. It isn’t until we leave the highway, woods on either side of us, that fear begins to truly set in.
“Where are you taking me?” The panic in my voice is beyond clear, but I might as well have been thinking it in my head for all the answers I get. I reach for his arm, feeling the muscles flex beneath his fur. “Alessandrio, please.”
He jerks the wheel and I scream, dropping my hand to grip the seat as we bump off the road and onto a dirt track. He’s taking me somewhere where he can bury me, it’s the only thing I can think as he slams on the brakes a distance down the track, trees all around us and no other life in sight.
“Get out.” Again that too calm voice, with its undertones of calculation.
I open the door and stumble onto the pine needle floor, fighting the urge to look around and focus solely on the one threat right in front of me. It’s cold but I don’t feel a thing other than the sheer dread that threatens to overwhelm me. With a casualness that has me wanting to vomit, he leans against the hood of the car, crossing his ankles and tucking his claw tipped hands in his pockets with a casualness of a predator so sure it’s about to get its prey.
“What are we doing here?” There is a shake to my voice, teeth clacking together dangerously close to my tongue.
“You like to run.” It’s not a question and his eyes narrow, finally giving away some of that undercurrent. “I am going to give you a two-minute head start, and if I catch you…” He trails off as if expecting me to fill in the blanks.
“Then what?” I whisper, bile dangerously close to escaping with my terror.
“Then I fuck you.”
An overwhelming mix of emotions slam into me at once. Relief, anger, and even a tiny thrill. By the look on his face, fucking me will be just the start of what he has planned. He checks his wrist, looking at a non-existent watch.
“You better get going,” he snaps his teeth at me, in emphasis.