The Don's Legal Eagle's Baby: An Enemies to Lovers Mafia Romance

38. Emilio

The scene that greeted me and my team as I approached the mansion was nothing short of a horror show. The once stately building was now a chaotic mess. Inside, broken furniture and shattered glass lay scattered in nearly every room, and bloodstains adorned the floors and walls.

The bodies of our men lay strewn across the building, some injured and groaning, others ominously still. It was an onslaught, a calculated assault on our territory. My heart clenched at the sight of the carnage.

My brother was nowhere in sight, and the uncertainty hurried me on as I assessed the situation. Instructing my men in rapid Italian, I ordered them to rid us of these intruders, the urgency in my voice a reflection of the dire circumstances.

Aiming with my weapon, I focused on the enemies. My mind honed solely on the task at hand. Gunfire echoed on various floors throughout the mansion. I maneuvered through the chaos, my movements guided by a mixture of rage and determination to protect what was rightfully ours.

The minutes stretched into an eternity as the confrontation escalated. I could practically taste the tension in the air, charged with the scent of blood and gunpowder. My muscles tensed with each shot; every movement was calculated to ensure the safety of our family and our domain.

The attackers seemed to recognize that our defense was no pushover, and they soon started to retreat, much to my relief. I wasted no time in instructing my men to pursue them, determined to extract every bit of information possible about the person or persons responsible for this audacious assault.

Amid the turmoil, my thoughts remained fixated on finding my brother. Carlo’s well-being was all that mattered at this moment. With each room I cleared, my apprehension grew, already fearing the worst as I called out his name each time, desperately hoping for a response.

My heart skipped a beat when, finally, I stumbled upon him lying in one of the corridors on the second floor. His form was huddled against the wall at an odd angle. Rushing to his side, I gently gathered him in my arms, my concern palpable.

”Carlo, are you alright? What happened?” I asked, my voice laced with urgency and worry washed over me at the sight of him.

Helping Carlo sit up, I leaned in with a furrowed brow.

”Carlo, what”s going on?”

He muttered a frustrated Italian curse under his breath. Carlo”s eyes revealed the seriousness of the situation.

”Uncle Luigi,” he began, ”he planned this. He”s behind the attack.”

I staggered back, my voice barely a whisper.

”Uncle Luigi? What are you talking about, Carlo? You must be mistaken.”

My disbelief was evident. Despite my strained relationship with our uncle, I found it hard to fathom that he would give the order for this destruction.

Carlo”s face contorted into a snarl as he elaborated.

”He wanted to seize control of the entire Fiore empire. He even joined forces with the Mancini family, but when you killed Crino, he changed sides. He formed an alliance with Riccardo Esposito, but as soon as you inherited the title of Don, Uncle Luigi turned on Riccardo and took control of the Esposito family, merging their forces with ours.”

My mind raced with the implications of his words.

The revelation sent a shiver down my spine. The level of betrayal left me reeling.

”Riccardo?” I hissed, trying to process the unexpected turn of events.

Our uncle allied himself with Griselda’s father. But for what? His father was already dead, so what else did Riccardo want?

Carlo”s expression darkened. ”Yes, he did. I heard he manipulated the circumstances to merge the two families.”

Merge the two families? Was there anything left of the Mancini family? As I took in the gravity of the situation, I couldn”t help but curse under my breath.

Carlo”s revelation hit me like a ton of bricks, leaving me momentarily speechless. The news, combined with the chaos around us, made it difficult to process what I was being told. I had countless questions demanding answers, but for now, I had to get us out of here.

Moving to assist Carlo, I was taken aback as he firmly grasped my arms.

”Luigi confessed to killing our father. It wasn”t a heart attack. He poisoned him,” Carlo rasped.

The ground beneath me seemed to waver as the shock settled in. My mind struggled to reconcile this new information, my brother”s intense gaze locking with mine.

Enzo and I had long suspected foul play in our father”s death, but the revelation that our uncle had orchestrated it left me reeling. My mind grappled with the implications of such a monstrous act as I grudgingly acknowledged the depths to which our family”s darkness extended.

It was a tale of abusers and kingslayers, and the more I thought about it, the more the lines between the two blurred.

With a firm resolve, I helped Carlo to his feet, but once he was up, his knees buckled, and he let out a pained hiss. Looking down, I could see that Carlo”s right pant leg was stained with blood.

”Were you shot?” I asked.

His pained grunt confirmed my fears, sending a wave of frustration and anger coursing through me. I couldn’t believe Luigi actually wanted to kill his nephew.

Cursing softly under my breath, I carefully looped Carlo”s arm around my shoulder, supporting his weight as we made our way through the wreckage. Each step felt like an eternity as we navigated the blood-smeared floors. His words broke through my thoughts, a mix of pain and uncertainty in his voice.

”What”s going to happen now?” he asked, his gaze flickering over the wreckage around us, the fallen bodies of our men silently testifying to the violent life of the Mafiosi.

”For now, we get out of here,” I replied, the words laced with urgency. ”Luigi knows we”re onto him. There”s no way he”ll risk showing his face anytime soon. What we need to do is find out what he”s up to.”

As we staggered towards the exit, my men swiftly moved in to provide the necessary medical assistance. Lowering Carlo gently to the ground, I watched as they worked diligently to stem the bleeding and stabilize his condition.

As they worked on his leg, my fingers swiftly dialed Andrea”s number, my voice tight with urgency as I relayed the situation to him. I provided a brief overview of Carlo”s injuries and our need for immediate medical attention for other injured men.

Once the bleeding was under control, I carefully helped Carlo to my car, his weight leaning heavily against me. As I settled into the driver”s seat, my hand discreetly found the button that activated the recorder.

”Tell me everything from the beginning,” I instructed quietly, my eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Carlo”s recounting of his meeting with Luigi unfolded. The conversation revolved around our father”s decision to name me as the leader of the family. My grip on the steering wheel tightened as the implications of their discussion settled in.

Carlo”s somber tone cut through the quiet hum of the car.

”Luigi called me to the Fiore house and said he needed to discuss some urgent business. We talked about Father”s choice to hand the reins over to you. It didn”t make any sense to us, Emilio. We even speculated whether the will had been tampered with.” His voice wavered slightly as he recounted the heated exchange.

I glanced at him, a flicker of surprise registering on my face. His words stirred a whirlwind of emotions within me, but I remained silent, allowing him to continue.

”We were talking about how to remove you from being the leader,” he confessed, his gaze fixed on the dashboard in front of him.

My grip on the steering wheel tightened as his words sank in. A pang of disappointment rippled through me, mingling with the sense of betrayal that threatened to overwhelm my thoughts. I stole a glance at Carlo, the weight of his admission heavy in the air.

My voice emerged emotionless, devoid of any bitterness. ”I didn”t realize you and Uncle Luigi were conspiring against me,” I murmured.

The hurt simmered just beneath the surface, no matter how much I told myself that I should have expected this. Carlo”s eyes avoided looking at me. His expression was clouded with a mix of frustration and guilt.

”Emilio, you know Father never designated you as the leader. He never explicitly said anything about you taking over,” he countered, his tone laced with defensiveness. ”I was trained for this, groomed from a young age to step into his shoes. You know how Father treated you, how he favored me. It was what I had been raised for.”

A maelstrom of conflicting emotions churned within me, the years of emotional neglect and physical abuse, resentment coalescing into a chaotic but silent storm.

”You were the one he pushed,” I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper. ”I was the afterthought.”

Glancing over at Carlo, I found myself struggling to process the waves of emotions crashing over me. His attempt at justifying their conversation, emphasizing the expectations placed on him as the older child to inherit the family legacy, made me feel empty.

Did I even have a family?

“What happened after that?” I asked with no fluctuation in my voice.

Carlo”s voice quivered slightly, his gaze flitting towards me with a tinge of guilt before he resumed his narrative.

”He suggested that we got rid of you,” he muttered, the heaviness of the admission echoing in the confined space of the car.

My chest constricted at the revelation, the hollowness expanding within me.

”Ma ho rifiutato (But I refused),” Carlo hastened to add as if his refusal was meant to make me feel better.

I maintained a stoic fa?ade, my features carefully arranged. Carlo”s discomfort was obvious.

”He was adamant that removing you was the only way for him to claim the throne,” Carlo revealed, his voice heavy with the weight of the truth.

I listened intently, my features carefully schooled into a neutral mask.

Carlo explained further, recounting the moment when Luigi”s slip of the tongue had thrown him off. He had initially thought they were discussing the restoration of his birthright as the leader, but Luigi had laughed, suggesting that the leadership belonged to him. This revelation had ignited a fierce argument between them.

A surge of bitterness welled within me as I ruminated on Carlo”s reaction. He seemed more taken aback by Uncle Luigi”s desire to claim leadership for himself than the suggestion to eliminate me.

Carlo interjected, his voice tinged with a mix of regret and defiance. ”Non potevo andare fino in fondo, Emilio. Non potevo tradirti. (I couldn”t go through with it, Emilio. I couldn”t betray you).”

The tale continued, and Carlo”s voice held a hint of resignation as his words echoed in the confined space.

”An argument ensued,” he began, ”He insisted he should be the one in charge, that the family was rightfully his to lead.”

As the tale continued, Carlo described how Luigi”s intentions had taken a darker turn. Luigi had declared that since Carlo was of no use to him anymore, there was no reason to keep him alive.

The confrontation had escalated, and it became clear that Luigi had hidden Mancini and Esposito members within the Fiore mansion, waiting for the right moment to strike.

With a heavy heart, Carlo explained how Luigi had drawn a gun, threatening to end his life. However, Carlo”s quick thinking saved him from a dire fate. During their altercation, Luigi had confessed to a sinister secret – he had formed a covert alliance with the Mancini family and Riccardo Esposito.

Carlo recounted Luigi”s words, describing how our uncle had initially intended to use the Mancini members to harass our father, pushing him to yield to the leadership. But when I had unexpectedly killed Crino, Luigi had been left with a hidden, albeit useless, partnership.

Luigi had silently seized control of the Mancini family, discovering the existence of a figure named Riccardo Esposito and forging an alliance with him.

Silence enveloped us as Carlo”s words settled in, revealing the extent of Luigi”s calculated moves to secure power within the Fiore family. It was so absurdly meticulous that, for a fleeting moment, I wanted to burst into laughter.

The irony was not lost on me—our blood had carefully plotted against us, orchestrating a complex network of deceit and manipulation.

As I pulled up to Andrea”s private hospital, I spotted him already waiting outside with his team and equipment, prepared to handle the situation from there. The moment the car halted, Andrea”s employees swiftly assisted Carlo out and onto a gurney. I followed suit, approaching Andrea, who was already issuing orders to his other staff.

Carlo suddenly grabbed my hand before he was wheeled away, catching me off guard. ”Mi dispiace, Emilio, per quello che è successo (I”m sorry, Emilio, for what happened),” he murmured, his tone laced with remorse, ”and I”m grateful you came to my rescue. I swear I will not forget it.”

With that, he was wheeled away, leaving me to face Andrea”s inquisitive gaze.

Andrea”s eyebrows raised above the frame of his glasses, and the quizzical scrunch of his face prompted me to give a simple response.

”è una lunga storia (It”s a long story,)” I replied wearily, my energy drained from the events of the day.

Turning away, I made my way back to the car, settling into the driver”s seat with a heavy heart, and dialed Enzo’s number.

”Enzo, radunare gli uomini per una riunione. (Enzo, gather the men for a meeting).”