29. 29 – Caterina
29 – Caterina
I don’t recognise my childhood home.
There is filth everywhere . Broken glass crunches under our feet as we walk up the drive, the scent of bleach and something more putrid digging into my nose. Decaying.
Dom’s arm brushes against mine, and I look at him.
He spent months here, in this hellhole. Months , watching this. Living with it every day, tied to Matteo’s side.
And now, his face is dark as he walks back toward it.
The music is no surprise. There’s no bass, only a low melody that floats from the smashed windows. And on the balcony wrapping around the first floor, the balcony I was never allowed on as a child, my cousin waits.
My eyes sweep the space around him. There’s no sign of Amie, of Frankie, but the three pieces of rope attached to the railings make my throat tighten, as if I can feel those nooses tightening around my neck.
“Weapons up.”
My quiet words are repeated back row by row, the several dozen soldiers with us lifting their weapons and training them on the man who grins, his arms spreading out in welcome. Others around him begin to turn, drinks in their hands.
I don’t wait for him to spout whatever bullshit he’s prepared. “You’re becoming predictable, Matteo.”
My raised voice carries across the space between us. The music cuts out, and a flicker of darkness edges into his grin. “Is that so?”
“My apologies for being late to my own party.” I gesture to the middle piece of rope. It’s the only one hanging over the edge, the noose swaying. “Asphyxiation has never been my idea of fun, I’m afraid.”
Matteo looks around, taking in the men gathered around me. His lip curls. “I see your lapdog has crawled back to you. A little more battered than before. Has he told you his body count, cugina ? I’m surprised you’d allow a mutt like him into your ranks. He has more blood on his hands than I do.”
I tilt my head, fighting to keep my expression cool even as Dom tenses beside me. “I don’t doubt it. Not when you only butcher innocent women and children. Coward .”
I step forward. Away from the protective line of my men. “You are a coward . Too weak. Too frightened to face me one-on-one. No - you’d prefer to play your little games, to lie and deceive and hide behind the walls of that house, with your parties. Although I notice they’re smaller now, since you lost access to the Corvo accounts. Where are all your men that protect you, Matteo? Have they lost interest, now that you’re no longer paying them?”
His face twists with rage. “Still here, I’m afraid. You may have enjoyed your little hacking trick, but there are plenty of assets in this house. I am the Corvo capo. I have plenty of allies, Caterina. Perhaps I’ll give you to another one when I’m done with you. Your leash seems to have slipped.”
I throw my head back, and I laugh through the ice in my stomach, laugh up at him . “You’re welcome to try. If you can find one, that is. Considering what I did to the last man who thought he could control me. Do you know what I did to him? What part of him I cut off ?”
My eyes slide to the few men still lingering on the balcony. One or two quietly move out of sight.
My voice is hard. Strong. “And as for you – oh, I have plans for you, cousin. I am finished playing your pathetic little games. You have shamed the Corvo name. You shame the Cosa Nostra, everything we stand for, and I am fucking tired of it. So be a good boy and send my people out, before I decide to come in and get them.”
I smirk up at his stony face. Pray that he doesn’t call my bluff, that he truly is the coward I know him to be.
I slide my hand into the pockets of my trousers, and I wait.
Come on, asshole. Don’t disappoint me now.
He and I are going to play together, one last time.
Matteo’s hands clench against the railing as if he’s imagining my neck beneath his hands. His skin mottles with anger, spittle collecting at the corner of his mouth as his hideous caps gleam. “You want them back, I’m only too happy to give them to you.”
I force my feet to stay still as they appear on either side of him, their arms tightly gripped.
A low noise sounds from a few feet along from me, and I glance back. Tony shifts, Vincent murmuring to him. His face is livid as he takes in Frankie.
She stands tall, her chin lifted. Some bruising litters her face, but she stands on her own two feet.
My eyes shift to Amie. And behind me, I hear the noise that comes from Luc’s throat.
I’m not even certain that it’s her at first. So much blood covers her face, savage, deep cuts over every part of her exposed skin. She slumps against the men holding her, not able to hold herself up. Unconscious, or close to. Her eyes barely open beneath the swelling, fresh wounds on top of old.
And her hair – the hair she was always so proud of, vain about – her hair is gone. Hacked off in clumps, scant patches of blond dotted over a scalp riddled with fucking burns .
“Jesus,” someone breathes. Rocco.
This plan – as long a shot as it always was, has now become even harder. Because Amie looks as though she’s dying, as if they have pushed her to the edge just in time for us to witness it.
Matteo doesn’t say a thing. He just watches, grinning.
I have had my fill of men like him. Of men like Matteo, and Salvatore, who see us as things for them to own and control and hurt – as less than them, belonging to them.
I am so fucking tired, as I stare at Amie’s face. Tired of failing. Of my own self-loathing, of seeing the same nightmares, night after night. But I will have to live with those memories, because of them . Amie and Frankie will have to live with it, too.
But first, they have to live .
“Choose,” Matteo calls, his voice light and amused again. “One lives. One dies. Or possibly both, since you’ve managed to irritate me, cousin. I had to change the game, since you weren’t here. I’m not feeling in an overly giving mood. But you won’t know either way, unless you choose .”
I breathe in as the nooses are wrapped around their necks, the knot tightened. Frankie doesn’t move, doesn’t look down at us. At Tony, as he surges forward with an agonised plea. “ Cat, please .”
They’re shoved to the edge of the railings, their feet pushed over.
Vincent pulls him back as I watch. Slowly, I slide out my gun, testing. Around me, the others do the same.
Men flood out onto the balcony, each of them with their own weapons. Dozens of them, all pointed at us. Two sides with guns raised watch each other.
“You see,” Matteo murmurs. “Some of this artwork is worth a lot of money, Caterina. More than enough to pay the bills until that little inconvenience is fixed. So we have a stalemate.”
I ignore him as Amie stirs. Her eyes open a little more, slow recognition filtering in. I’m not sure if she can even see me before they close again.
We’re running out of time.
“So?” Matteo yawns. “I’m a busy man. I have an empire to run, cugina , so get on with it.”
Slipping the gun back into my holster, I pull out my dagger instead. Twirl it in my hands, and shrug. “I don’t particularly care. Kill them both.”
“ No .” Tony roars at me, and there is no feigning the terror in his voice. Vincent pulls him back, his hand barely brushing his shoulder.
I glance at Luc, but he looks away from me, his jaw tightening.
Matteo laughs, delighted. “Do I sense some dissension in your ranks? Your moral high ground appears to be sinking, cugina .”
“ You cold-hearted bitch .” My heart stumbles over that, as Tony throws insults at me.
My heart pounds. I refuse to look in Luc’s direction, to see the disgusted look he’s currently giving me. The judgment.
Come on.
Come on .
I glance at Frankie. She’s staring down at Tony now, a numb expression on her face.
She doesn’t seem shocked. As if… as if she never expected to survive this anyway.
Rolling my eyes, I look back to Matteo. “Your move.”
His brow creases, as he searches for any hint of stress in my face. I don’t give him any. “You’re telling me that you are refusing to choose.”
“I don’t care either way.” My voice is cool. “Perhaps the last few months have taught me something after all, Matteo.”
He studies my face. Waves a hand. “Drop them.”
Go – go—
A hard shove, as Amie and Frankie are thrown from the edge of the balcony—
Dante and Gio are ready. Their shots ring out, and my heart flies into my mouth as two men erupt into motion from our line as the guns go off. Rocco and Tony fly over the ground.
I rip my knife back and throw it as hard as I can. Matteo stumbles back and out of sight, and Stefan bellows to the men behind us. “ Now !”
The world turns to gunfire as our line unloads their semi-automatic Glocks into Matteo’s men. Bullets spray my father’s house, glass shattering and paint flying in every direction. Wave after wave keeps Matteo’s men back, sheltering from the continuous assault and unable to get a shot in.
I stand motionless in the center of a hail of bullets as they pass by me, and a hard body tackles me to the ground.
Dom roars in my ear. “Keep your fucking head down!”
It was always a Hail Mary.
A single second. A million-to-one fucking chance.
A bullet, to sever the unfurling rope from a distance that could be impossible.
And someone to catch them.
My head twists up, desperately trying to see through the smoke. The bullets still rage above our heads, angled away from the ground to stop them being hit. “Did they get them?”
I don’t see them. Can’t see anything through the haze. Dom grabs my arm, pulling me back along the ground. “We’re running out of ammo.”
And as soon as we do, Matteo’s men will return fire.
Voices ring out. Dante. Gio. Luc. Stefan. Dom returns their shouts, still pulling me along. “Fall back, first line!”
“Second!”
“Back!”
The smoke offers enough cover for us to scramble to our feet and run.
Please.
Please.
I burst free of the cloud at the edge of the house boundary. I’m already scanning as the others emerge. Around us, men run for the vehicles we left on the other side of the gate and jump in.
Gio and Dante appear first, panting. Gio shakes his head. “I don’t know, Cat. I couldn’t see.”
There’s agreement on Dante’s face. And guilt, so much guilt. “It could have worked. But at that distance, the speed—,”
Luc appears next to them, Vincent beside him. The hope in my chest starts to fade. “Rocco? Tony?”
“They weren’t behind us,” Vincent says heavily. “We waited as long as we could.”
Luc grips my face, the lie of his anger nowhere to be seen. Only grief fills his eyes. “We tried, Cat. You tried.”
That’s not good enough.
If I had chosen, I might have saved one. Instead, I chose to risk them both on the slim chance of getting them both out, and it didn’t fucking work .
I tried to save two… and lost four.
“We have to go.” Dom’s voice isn’t harsh. There’s pain there, too. Tony was one of his. “They’ll be coming this way any second.”
“We wait.” My voice is iron. “Another minute.”
“Cat—,”
“Another fucking minute ,” I snap. “Rocco and Tony might make it out, even if—.”
If they were too late. If the shots didn’t land.
“Tony wouldn’t have left her there, Cat,” Vincent says gently. “He’s not coming back.”
My eyes start to burn. Fuck. Fuck.
I can’t think about it. Not now. “Rocco, then.”
“One minute,” Dante says hoarsely. He doesn’t say it, doesn’t mention Rocco at all, but he turns to face the rapidly clearing smoke, his fists clenched.
Thirty seconds tick past too quickly.
Sixty.
Ninety.
“Okay,” I swallow down the agony in my throat. “It’s time.”
“No.” Dante doesn’t move from his spot. His fists are clenched, his back straight. “Not yet.”
I swallow, before turning to Dom. “We’ll be there in a minute.”
He scans my face, but he doesn’t argue. He grips a silent Vincent’s shoulder as I turn from them and walk over to where Dante stands.
He inhales as I slip my hand into his. “We spent our whole childhood together, Cat. I’m not leaving him. If he’s not here, I’m going back.”
“It’s too late,” I say, throat aching. “He would have been here by now.”
“I’m not leaving him in that place,” he repeats hoarsely. “Get in the car.”
I don’t respond. Instead, I pull out my gun and check it’s still loaded. I’ve lost a knife – and hopefully Matteo is bleeding out because of it – but I still have several on me. “We go now, then. Before they get chance to regroup.”
I’m hoping the fucker is dead, but I’m not holding out hope. We’re not that lucky. But if he’s injured, the ensuing chaos might be enough for two of us to get through unnoticed.
“Absolutely fucking not.” He stares at me. “Get in the car.”
He swears when I walk past him, grabbing my arm. “I’m not joking.”
“You’re right,” I tell him. “And if you think I’m letting you go alone, you would be wrong. Try and stop me and I’ll shoot you.”
I’m not losing anyone els today.
Our heads jerk up at the same time. A heavy sound comes from behind the trees on our left. Almost… dragging.
We move at the same time.
Frankie Costa hisses at us as we rip the branches back. “Help me!”
I sag, almost stumbling. “I – what—,”
Dante throws Tony’s arm over his head, dragging him upright. His face is ashen, sweat beading on his upper lip as he stretches his hand out for Frankie.
She takes it without looking at him. “I landed on him. His leg snapped.”
“Worth it.” Tony hisses as he tries to take a step. His leg is bent out of shape. “I’m fine. Rocco needs help.”
Dante nearly drops him. “Is he hurt?”
Tony shakes his head. “Amie’s in bad shape.”
I take off, ducking through the dense trees.
“Don’t you fucking dare .”
I hear him before I see him. Rocco looks up, his face strained. He doesn’t stop, his hands locked onto Amie’s chest as he pumps. “Eye of the Tiger, right?”
He drops his mouth to hers, covering her nose and blowing air into her lungs until they rise. “Don’t fucking die on me now, bella . Not after surviving that fucking fall.”
“You caught her,” I breathe. I take over the breathing as Rocco hums a familiar tune, his hands never losing rhythm. “It worked?”
“Damn luckiest shot I ever saw.” Rocco stares down at her face. “Damn it, Amie. Come on .”
I press my fingers against her ravaged neck. “It’s weak.”
“It’s enough.” He lifts her easily before we make our way back, Rocco almost quicker than me despite her weight. Dom and Dante are arguing beside the car, both of their faces turning to shock.
I rip the door open. “Move. We’re going straight to the hospital.”
“I’ll take her.” Dom offers, but Rocco grips her.
“No.”
When they’re inside, the car pulling off before I’ve even closed to door properly, I press my hands to my face.
“You did it.” Dom’s voice is thin with shock. “Cat. Dante, that shot- both of you. You and Gio – all of it.”
A Hail Mary.
One in a million.
We slide into the other car, Gio shifting over to make space as Dante gets in the front. “Where now?”
“The hospital.” I meet Dom’s eyes in the mirror. “And then we’re making a call.”