Chapter 23
I’ve been watching Sera and Levi playing poker for the better part of an hour now. The dealers have changed, and we now know the guy dealing the cards is one of Verdi’s men. It’s probably a way to keep us here at this table while Ronaldo awaits his father’s orders, because he’s always at his beck and call.
The call I made confirmed as much; that Ronaldo and Don Verdi would both be here. In fact, their words were, “we wouldn’t want to miss it.” And while that ominous response sets me on edge, I have faith in Sera and her team to succeed.
“Incoming.”
Levi looks up at the sound of Enzo’s voice through the earpiece to see the man we’ve been waiting for marching towards us. With two guards following behind him, he’s wearing a look of surprise and smug satisfaction that leaves me feeling uneasy. Though this is all part of our plan, I still don’t like the idea of subjecting Sera to the Verdis any more than necessary. And with the way Ronaldo prowls towards us like we’re his prey, I’m overcome with the territorial urge to step between them and protect Sera at all costs. I failed once, I won’t fail again.
Like his brother, Ronaldo is a slender man who walks with cocky prowess. Unlike his brother, he wears his emotions on his face. Ironic that he’s at a casino, yet he couldn’t bluff his way out of a field because he wears his expression like an accessory, one that is eternally latched onto him. Ronaldo is an easy target, gullible and self-assured. If anyone was going to believe my pleas for a bargain, it would be him. And knowing his father will do whatever it takes to see Sera taken out, it was easy to fool them.
While Ronaldo approaches, I hear Enzo dishing out orders to the twins, confirming the rescue plan can go ahead. I pretend not to be bothered by the fact Luisa is about to be saved from her hell, meanwhile we have no idea where my daughter is.
I know that Sera will keep her promise. There isn’t a bad bone in her body that would deprive me of happiness, even though I deserve her ire. I deserve to be shunned, to be tortured to within an inch of my life. I don’t deserve her forgiveness, and I certainly don’t deserve her help. It’s just one of the many things I’m in awe of when it comes to Serafina Bianchi. I’ll never forget what she’s done for me; what she’s still doing for me. We’re not in clear waters yet, but I hope that one day, when all of this is dead and buried, we can have some kind of relationship—even if it’s just platonic.
“Fun’s over,” Ronaldo badgers.
I battle against my instinct to intervene as he presses himself against Sera’s back, but she doesn’t flinch. I have to fight myself to stay rooted to the spot I’m standing in, because the fact he has a weapon pressed at her back can only mean one thing.
“Is that a gun?” Sera asks nonchalantly, stacking her chips like the enemy isn’t standing right behind her, poised to shoot. “Or are you just happy to see me, Ronaldo?”
I don’t like the way Ronaldo leans down, his mouth so close to her ear that his lips almost brush the shell of it. Her body recoils slightly, moving against the gun he presses into her back. They’re so close that I can hear the threat he delivers as he nudges his piece against her spine. “Don’t act smart. I won’t hesitate to pull the trigger.”
“Well, that’s no way to talk to a lady,” she mocks, spinning around on her stool. She glances down at the gun now pressing against her stomach and smirks. She fucking smirks.
Levi shoots up from his seat, slamming his palms into the table and grinding his jaw. But when Sera lifts her hand to silently tell him to back down, he obeys. As far as Ronaldo goes, we need to play our part. Acting surprised, pissed off, and protective is equally real and a part of this game we’re playing. Ronaldo just doesn’t know he’s the pawn.
“I’m not here to play games, Bianchi. If you don’t want your blood spilled here, I suggest you come with me.”
“I don’t know, Marchese.” She glances over her shoulder at Levi, batting those dark eyelashes that could make a lesser man fall to his knees. “Do you think it’s safe?”
“That depends on what you consider safe,” he remarks.
She’s teasing now, taunting the man in front of her. Though I know it’ll only irritate Ronaldo more, I have to give her props for the way she carries herself. Never the one to back down—because she knows we have her back—she stands from her seat with an exasperated sigh and grabs her bag. She stops when Ronaldo’s resolute figure prevents her from passing, raising a brow at him in defiance as she pushes his gun away.
“Lead the way, then.”
As we follow Ronaldo through the maze of tables full of gamblers who are here to catch cheap thrills, I catch sight of Enzo. He offers me a curt nod from the shadows before leaving his table, following us discreetly through the throngs of people.
We head into the reception area, where Ronaldo leads us to an elevator. Expensive vases decorate tables around us, surrounded by red velvet chairs and vibrant colors that reflect off the white marble floor.
“Where are we going?” Levi asks, darting his gaze around the opulent room.
“My father would like a word,” he smirks.
My blood pumps loudly in my ears as the elevator doors open and we all step in. This is where we need to be careful, remain alert. We knew that Don Verdi would want to get Sera alone, so we’ve come armed. But I have no doubt that things are about to escalate.
“Not you!” Ronaldo says, pressing his gun to Levi’s chest and halting him in his tracks, backing him out of the elevator.
“You really think I’m going to leave her alone with you?” he snarls, swiping the gun away angrily.
Ronaldo glances over his shoulder, locking eyes with me. “I think she’ll be just fine with her bodyguard.”
“Levi,” Sera warns, shifting beside me. “Go.”
A flicker of judgment and irritation passes over Levi’s features. In the minute it takes him to decide what to do, Ronaldo’s guards have pulled their guns on him, the threat evident as he waits for the moment Levi defies her, just so he can be the one to put a bullet in his chest.
“Please,” Sera whispers, her gaze softening.
That seems to be all it takes for Levi to obey her, taking a step back from the elevator. The look he throws at me is filled with warning, and I don’t need words to understand what he’s saying. I won’t let her down again. I won’t mess this up. I swore to myself to trust Sera when she told me she would help me get Gabriella back. This is just another step in her plan to reach that goal. Once Luisa is safe, we have a better chance of finding and retrieving my daughter.
The solid ping of the doors sliding shut seals our fate, and suddenly the tension in the elevator is thicker than ever. It’s practically suffocating—but that might also be because there are five of us crammed into a tiny metal box.
“Check them,” Ronaldo barks, his back facing us as we travel upwards.
Upon his command, one guard turns and starts patting me down, removing my earpiece and gun from its holster with an incredulous smile–like he really thought we’d go anywhere unprotected? I resist the urge to knee him in the face when his hands travel down my left leg and he finds the concealed knife in my boot. Figlio di puttana.
He drops the earpiece to the floor while pocketing my gun and knife. The plastic crunches under his heel, cutting my contact with everyone. I only hope he doesn’t take Sera’s.
He moves to Sera next, leering at her with a creepy gaze. He licks his lips as his eyes rake down her body. I don’t know what he’s going to find on her, though. Her hair covers her earpiece, so I wonder if he’ll even think about checking there.
I watch his hands follow her curves, the dress clinging to her gorgeous figure. I’ve had to readjust myself too many times for her not to notice, but if she has, she doesn’t make it obvious. What I wouldn’t give to have a taste of her again. That ship has long since sailed, though. She has Levi, and Luca, and Enzo to keep her occupied now. There’s no place for me.
“Slide that hand any higher and I’ll break your nose,” Sera warns, snapping me out of my temporary daydream.
The guard is on one knee, hands on her right thigh. He glances up at her and I see just a glimpse of indecision warring in his dark eyes. If he pushes his luck, it won’t just be a broken nose. I’d break his neck in a matter of seconds and I wouldn’t even flinch. I’d toss him over the wrap around balcony of this hotel and watch as his body plummeted from ten floors up. My mind churns with scenarios of how I could end this man’s life, even though I know Sera wouldn’t allow it. Plus, we’re not here to start a fight just yet. We need to buy the twins and Luca enough time to get through the tunnel and into the compound, and that means playing along and following Verdi”s orders until we know Luisa is safe.
I realize I’ve been holding my breath in anticipation, waiting for the guy to push not only Sera’s buttons, but mine too.
He doesn’t.
As he retreats, Sera’s hand slides against mine, her pinky finger wrapping around my own. I don’t know whether she’s doing it for her benefit or mine, but I relax a little with that tiny gesture because it tells me she knows what she’s doing.
That’s the thing about Sera and I; we always had a connection that could speak volumes in the silence. She never needed my words, she never needed my conviction. She just needed someone to listen to her, to believe in her, to trust her. And I do. I trust Sera with my life, and despite what has happened up until this point, I know with that simple touch that she’s telling me the same thing.
The journey in the elevator doesn’t last very long. When I glance up at the screen, we’re only at level fourteen, though I’m certain there are at least thirty floors here.
Ronaldo is the first to step out when the doors slide open. Confidence oozes from him as he clips the toe of his shoe impatiently on the marble floor.
Before I can even contemplate stepping forward, Sera’s body is shoved by one of Verdi’s guards. She stumbles, barely catching herself on me as the guard laughs cruelly.
A growl rumbles through my chest as I square up to the imbecile. I’m so close to snapping that all it would take is one word from Sera and I’d end him.
“Down boy,” Ronaldo threatens me.
Sera gives my hand a comforting squeeze, a reminder that I have to keep my head on straight and focus on our goal.
Stepping out of the elevator, Sera and I walk side by side. A white marble hallway sparkles before us. The floors look so clean you could probably eat a seven-course dinner off them. The walls are decorated with thick gold frames—much like downstairs— hosting paintings of artists I should probably know the names of.
“Time to face the music,” Sera mutters, and I can only assume that she’s signaling Enzo her earpiece.
While we head into the lion’s den to attempt to distract the beast, the team rescuing Luisa will need to move fast. I look down at my watch, noting the time. We’ve given ourselves two hours in total. It should be long enough for the team to get through the tunnel and into the compound. Once they have Luisa, they plan to seal the tunnel behind them, because there’s no knowing what state they’ll find Luisa in. One thing we do know for certain is that she won’t be in any condition to make it through that tunnel as quickly as the twins and Luca. Especially if that tunnel is a mile long.
The sound of our shoes clipping the floor is like a morbid countdown. Every step we take is leading us closer to danger, closer to the unknown, closer to what could be our final moments. I try not to think about the latter because the plan was always for Enzo to be nearby. We just need to trust that he and Levi know how to find us now.
“In!” Ronaldo snaps, gesturing to an open door.
I step through first, the scent of bourbon and cigars filling my nostrils as I take in my surroundings, sizing up who is here. Apart from Don Verdi and one other man, there’s no one else in the room, which means the Verdis have indeed taken the bait. I doubt they even suspect that we have a team downstairs just waiting for our signal, or another infiltrating their compound.
Don Verdi sits at the far end of the room, slouching back on a white vintage couch embellished with the same gold as the rest of the room. He puffs on a cigar, attempting to look almighty and powerful. He just looks like a cliché with his slicked back silver hair and three-piece suit.
Sera pauses at my side, glancing up at me. Though she looks every bit confident and in control, her mask slips a little, giving me a momentary glimpse of the anger behind her eyes.
“Bianchi,” Don Verdi announces, a thick plume of smoke escaping his mouth. “Please sit.”
“I’d rather not,” she counters, stepping in front of him and crossing her arms. “What do you want?”
“Why don’t you ask your bodyguard?” Don Verdi smirks. He taps his cigar in the ashtray beside him, uncrossing his legs as he stares at me.
Her eyes widen, feigned shock rooting her in place as she whispers, “What have you done?”
I swallow, slowly turning my focus to Sera. Even though she’s acting, seeing the look of betrayal flicker in her eyes all over again does something to me. It’s like a stab to the gut, the knife being twisted as Ronaldo comes up behind her and leans down.
“It seems you can’t trust anyone these days,” Don Verdi comments boredly.
“Betrayed by those closest to you,” Ronaldo whispers in her ear, locking his bright blue eyes on me. “How does it feel to know you were just a pawn in this game?”
Slap.
The sound fills the room as Sera’s palm connects with my cheek—the good side. The sting of her assault radiates through my face. As much as I deserve it, I see the guilt flickering in her dark eyes. But this is part of the plan. We need the Verdis to believe this is real. We don’t have time to consider each other’s feelings or apologize.
Quickly, Sera schools her expression, stepping forward to challenge me. “I hope it was worth it,” she growls. She’s playing the role of a scorned woman perfectly. If I wasn’t in on this act, I’d believe every second of it.
Suddenly, Ronaldo yanks her backwards, shoving her onto the couch opposite his father. “Enough of the dramatics,” he huffs, slumping down beside her. “We know why you’re really here.”
Sera’s eyes blow wide as she shoots her gaze to mine, her mouth fallen open for a second before she reels in her emotions. The fear and worry etched in her features makes my chest pinch, bleeding with my own dread. The room starts to close in on us, Verdi’s men stepping closer. I’d like to think I could take them all on, but then again, I don’t have a gun, and last time we were taken by surprise by the Verdis, it ended badly. Really bad.
I can still feel the ghost of Luciano’s blade slicing through my stomach, the pain soaring through me as he twisted and twisted. The stitches from Sera’s doctor are still in place, the wound barely healed. Enzo’s torture didn’t help either—my wrists have definitely seen better days. But compared to the gunshot wound, that hurt more. I’d never tell Sera that, though. She experienced the most heinous torture that I could never begin to comprehend. She went through pain ten times worse than my own, and she wears her scars like badges of honor.
“Fine,” Sera huffs exasperatedly, crossing one leg over the other. “You caught me.”
Don Verdi nods with successful speculation, sucking harder on his cigar. The end lights up for at least five seconds before he exhales, the cloud circulating above his head before dispersing.
This wasn’t a part of the plan.
We were supposed to distract the Verdis, give the twins enough time to get Luisa. I was supposed to get my daughter’s location, or at the very least, an idea of where she could be.
“I’m tired of all this, Verdi,” Sera sighs, standing up to pace around the couch. She looks elegantly powerful as she prowls towards the liquor cart and lifts a decanter filled with whiskey, pouring out a glass. “I want peace between the families.”
“You should have thought about that before you killed my son,” Verdi retorts.
I’m not sure how much he knows about what went down a few weeks ago. Luciano never showed any signs that his father knew we had been kidnapped or tortured. From what I recall, only Luciano and his guard visited us. They’re all dead now, so there’s no way Luciano could have told his father he had us. Not until Sera’s death was announced, and even then, there would have been an inquiry held by the Elders. If the Verdis were caught, they would be exiled from La Famiglia. La Cosa Nostra has its ways. Strange ways that don’t fit with the norms of our society. But that’s the world we live in. That’s the world I live in.
“I didn’t kill your son,” Sera replies with a huff, leaning against the cart to take a sip of her bourbon. “But I know who did, and I can give you the name if you agree to stop this.”
The exchange between the most powerful people in the room is unmistakably toxic. Sera is faking her way to buy time, while Verdi is probably contemplating how he can take her position. But with the way things are unraveling at a rapid speed, I don’t think time is on our side.
“So are you finally here to hand over your title?” he muses.
“Is that what it will take?” she probes. We all know that’s what this family really wants. We all know how far they’d go to claim her seat of power.
“Sera,” I warn, clearing my throat. I don’t know where she’s going with this, but I don’t like it. My palms grow hot, my nails digging into them as I lock eyes with her.
“I want one other thing though,” she adds, coming back over to perch on the arm of the couch.
Ronaldo scoffs, looking up at her. “I don’t think you’re in any position to ask for anything.”
“Go on,” Don Verdi nods, dismissing his son. “I’m listening.”
“Gio’s daughter. You give her back,” she glances at me briefly before returning her gaze to Ronaldo. “Alive.”
No.Is she really considering this, or is it all a distraction? My mind is reeling, pulse pounding so loudly in my ears that I can’t think straight. There’s got to be another way. There has to be. Raf is skilled; he found Luisa, and I have no doubt that he’ll find my daughter with time because I refuse to let Sera bargain her position for me. Especially after everything I’ve done.
“And if we don’t?” Ronaldo questions.
“Then you gain nothing. I don’t see why you need the girl. I’m here, willing to hand over what you want, so take the deal.”
Ronaldo and his father share a silent exchange, Don Verdi’s mouth tipping up into a sickening smirk. “She has her uses,” he says, stamping out his cigar in the ashtray before standing. “They all do.”
The distinct memory of the docks floods my mind. Images of those women and young girls, younger than my Gabriella, spill into one another. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, white hot rage filling my lungs as my palms grow sweaty. “If you’ve touched her—”
“You’ll what?” Don Verdi laughs, the tenor of his cackle sending a nauseating feeling into the pit of my stomach.
“Verdi,” Sera pulls his attention away from me. “Give us the girl and not a word will be mentioned to the Elders.”
The room lulls into silence, a tension blanketing us as Verdi ponders Sera’s words for a second. I don’t even want to think about what Gabriella must be going through. The disgust I feel, the guilt that’s festering inside of me is enough to force me to see how much mess I’ve caused. I’m left drowning in my thoughts, my uncertainty; questioning whether I should have even taken this job in the first place.
I tug at the collar of my shirt. The room feels hot, stiflingly so. The spots that dance across my vision have me clearing my throat, desperate for a sip of the whiskey in Sera’s hand. The tension between us all is so thick and suffocating that it isn’t until I hear the sound of a gun cocking that I snap back to reality. One guard is whispering in Don Verdi’s ear while another closes in, pressing the barrel of his gun to my head.
My attention snaps back to Ronaldo, who has his own gun pressing into Sera’s side. My chest heaves with unfiltered rage, breaths flowing shallow and fast.
“Tut tut, Topolina.” Ronaldo is close, too close to her. His hand runs along her thigh while his gun rests against her body.
Sera remains still, unfazed by the weapon threatening her life. She continues to sip her alcohol like this is playing out exactly how she expected it to. Either I was left out of some crucial details—well deservedly—or she’s acting.
“What’s going on?” I bark, shoulders heaving with my worried breaths.
“They know,” Sera murmurs before finishing her drink. She taps her ear, and in less than a second she’s swinging around and smashing the glass on Ronaldo’s head.
He screams out, clutching his head as blood pours down his face.
Everything happens so fast after that. Don Verdi sets his guards on us, guns pointed in our direction.
Cazzo.