5. Chapter 5
5
Disbelief led to an overwhelming surge of fear. Elyse felt sucker punched. The De Leóns were supposed to be their closest allies. Valentina was engaged to Gaspare. Alessandro had already asked Aberto to help take down Domenico, and Elyse personally recruited Mariposa to go after Cara.
Green eyes grew dim, clouding with dread. It seemed as though the two of them were battling a hydra at every turn. The moment they severed one head, new ones would burst forth. Her mind began to race. If Aberto actually paid the Santos brothers to hire Tommy Wilkes, their current plans were fucked. Dread sank deeper. Who needed enemies with friends like him?
Struggling not to let her anxiety show, she turned to Alessandro and asked as calmly as possible, "What should we do about Aberto?"
He smiled. "Kill him."
"If Aberto betrayed you, he deserves to fucking die."
"I will ask Monte to investigate his involvement with the Santos brothers."
"I wonder how deep this rabbit hole goes." Elyse reached over, searching for her husband's hand. This time, when they made contact, he didn't pull away.
"We will find out soon enough." Alessandro glanced down at their clasped hands and gave a pause before muttering, "You were right, by the way."
Her eyebrows rose. "About what?"
He squeezed her hand in his palm. "When I fuck up, everything fucks up."
"Alessio..."
Alessandro shot her a grim look. "The other coscas cannot wait to sink their teeth into me. It was a mistake to trust Aberto. Just because he was happy to be my father's little bitch does not mean he will be happy to be mine. I acted too rashly. My father was right. I am not ready to be a king among vipers."
"He doesn't know you like I do. "
"My father has known me longer, though," Alessandro challenged wryly, "and he has seen me at my worst."
"But, unlike him, I've seen you at your best, and you're far more formidable than you think," she disputed in earnest, holding his gaze. "You outsmarted your brothers, your men respect you so much that they wouldn't hesitate to take a bullet for you, and you've married a wife who'd run into an inferno just so you won't have to burn alone."
Uncertainty flickered through brown and blue-gray eyes. His thumb caressed the ring on her finger. “Have I married such a woman? I do not feel like I deserve her.”
“She's the one who's lucky to have you,” Elyse quipped back, “so don’t focus on the fuck ups, Alessio. Concentrate on what can be fixed, and fulfill your promise to me. Turn this hell into paradise and give me a life that even angels will envy ."
Her words seemed to unlock something in him. Intently, Alessandro looked at Elyse as though hearing her for the first time since Vincenzo's death. In a low voice, he began with a sigh, "You know…”
“Yes?”
“For the past twenty-four hours, people have been relentless. They give condolence after condolence and expect me to be in mourning. I assure you, though, I am not grieving at all. I was not lying when I said that— I feel fine . In fact, I feel nothing.”
Nothing at all?
“I don’t know whether to be relieved,” she grumbled, “or more worried about you.”
Alessandro assured her, “You may rest easy, wife. I have never felt better. Death is nothing new. Ever since I can remember, it has defined me. My mother and brothers were killed because they craved something that fate refused to give them. Many men, including my brothers, wanted me dead. I have burned men alive and blown out their brains. I listened to their final breaths and watched the light fade from their eyes. You see, after a while, death no longer feels as fucked up as it should.”
Dios , the life her husband had lived was appalling yet heartbreaking. But she caught his drift. After experiencing so much violence and tragedy, a man simply became numb. Not much fazed him at this point. “You know, as a kid, I used to think that being strong meant screaming and kicking until the world changed for you. But, now, I realize that strength is very quiet at times. It allows us to accept whatever comes our way— in all its fucked up glory —and face it without flinching."
"Whatever does not kill us, makes us stronger, no ?” he murmured, eyeing her closely. “Everyone has to die. I learned to accept it early on. Acceptance takes away the fear, I think."
"It sounds like you're not afraid of anything, then."
He fell silent for a moment before revealing, "There was a time when I feared nothing. For years, I was untouchable. I felt invincible when I had nothing to lose.”
Past tense? Elyse pointed out softly. “You no longer feel this way?”
Alessandro nodded. Amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth, but there was genuine distress in his eyes when he revealed, “Now I am terrified of making the wrong move."
"Why are you afraid?"
With a stark expression, his jaw clenched. "Because of you.”
Her mouth parted in surprise. “Me?”
“I cannot lose you, Elyse,” Alessandro confessed quietly. “You are my everything. Every mistake I make puts your life at risk."
The raw despair in his voice was undeniable. It was the first time she'd witnessed such naked vulnerability reflected in Alessandro. She could feel her husband's anguish seeping into the air. Yet, it didn't faze her. If anything, she felt compelled to stay strong for him. Green eyes turned to steel. "You can't give in to fear. I won't let you. Not now. Not ever. Even if we die, then we die together. Even in death, you won’t lose me, Alessio."
Alessandro protested with a glare, "I do not care what happens to me. Fuck me. But you? You are not allowed to die . You must live and hold me to my promise. I intend to give you a paradise worthy of angels."
As much as Elyse wanted to hold Alessandro to it, she couldn't help but think of Renata's efforts to outplay the mafia. The woman ended up murdered by her own family. Softly, she urged him, "Don't worry about me, okay? You can't control fate. All we can do is hope for the best and plan for the worst."
"I will give you paradise," he vowed, "no matter what."
Her heart brimmed with longing. She wished to give him paradise, too. But no life was invincible, blood wasn't thicker than water, and God didn't play favorites. Not in the mafia, anyway. Elyse realized she, too, needed to accept that death could come for them at any time and then move the fuck on because there was too much at stake. She didn't have time to be paralyzed by the what ifs and God forbids .
Come what may, the future wasn’t theirs to command. This lack of certainty was frightening. Yet, it was also unexpectedly… liberating? It freed her mind to scheme in ways that would’ve felt too ruthless not long ago. Before, Elyse had been clinging to the good within while she strove to outmaneuver her husband's enemies, but the playing field had tilted yet again, and, it seemed, Aberto might wield the upper hand. She was ready to play dirty, too.
Aside from her grandfather, Aberto was the only one who knew about their plans to set the Berlusconis against the Morettis. Not even the Svizzis had been brought fully up to speed yet. She suspected that Aberto and maybe even Mariposa had been scheming to use Alessandro for quite some time now.
A scowl strained Elyse's mouth as she mulled over Aberto. She couldn't stop obsessing over one glaring detail. There'd been a list of notable names on Renata's memory card. But those men were all gone. Aberto was the only one left. Was this coincidence? Or a series of perfectly executed murders?
Her gazed locked on to Alessandro, demanding to know, "What kind of man is Aberto?"
He sighed. "A very competent one, unfortunately. He would have been valuable to our cause. Losing him will hurt us in the long run."
"Does he tend to be heavy-handed when it comes to dealing with enemies?"
"Not really," Alessandro answered. "As far as I know, Aberto prefers to lay low. In the past, he let my father handle the blood and gore."
Interesting . Her head continued to churn with conspiracies. Elyse sensed the darkness seizing her heart, but she didn't push it away. She embraced it. "Maybe the De Leóns can no longer be trusted, but we can trust in them to fuck us over. I have a feeling that Aberto is smart enough to enlist others to do his dirty work. We may never find the blood on his hands. If this is the case, I doubt we'll need to pivot too much from our original plan. We simply need to play him like he's playing us."
He eyed her with curiosity. "This game sounds fun. Go on. Per favore ."
"Aberto and Domenico both want to be capo . We should set them against each other instead of Domenico and Carlo. Let Aberto take down our enemies for us, one by one, thinking that we still trust him."
Alessandro's eyes flickered with understanding and then with cunning. "We can use my father's funeral to set the stage for their battle."
"How so?"
"As you have stated," he reminded her, "with so many heads of clans in attendance, it would be the perfect opportunity for a mafioso to remove some rivals and destabilize other coscas . Aberto already believes I am not a threat. That is why he even dared to take my life. We must embolden him some more. He needs a nudge to show his true colors."
"What kind of… nudge?"
"We must target one of his men. Piss him off and fuel the rage until he loses control. Then, hand him a gun and watch as he pulls the fucking trigger. The others will have no choice but to fire back."
" Dios ," Elyse whispered under her breath, "your father's funeral might turn into a bloodbath."
Alessandro smiled like a dark angel. " Dio , I hope so."
"Wouldn't that put us in the line of fire, though?"
He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Who said we will be attending?"
Elyse's brow shot up as it dawned on her. This funeral was going to become their Trojan horse . She asked, "What about my grandfather? He's planning to attend the funeral. Should we warn him?"
Alessandro nodded. "Benedetto needs to know about our plans."
After learning about Renata's death, Elyse felt wary about allying herself with Benedetto. He seemed like the kind of man who would choose Cosa Nostra over family in a heartbeat. "Can he be trusted?"
"We have no choice but to trust your grandfather. For now, Aberto can be replaced. But, without Benedetto, this shit would be suicide."
Anxiety made her wince. They were being forced to put all of their eggs in the Graviano basket. Not by choice. Out of necessity. Building a relationship with Benedetto had never felt more important.
Reservations about getting too close to Benedetto thrummed away, but she forged on, "I'll be going to my grandfather's place tomorrow. I assume you still want to come?"
" Sì ."
"It'll be a good opportunity for you to fill him in on what we have planned."
Brown and blue-gray eyes gleamed. "Let the games begin."
The next day, Elyse arrived with Alessandro at her grandfather's residence. Benedetto Graviano's villa was located in Monreale about thirty minutes south of Palermo. The town sat atop Monte Caputo, overlooking a fertile valley, known by locals as La Conca d'oro , or the Golden Shell, where orange, olive, and almond trees were grown in vast quantities.
The old house occupied a large and spacious property. With its traditional terracotta-tiled roof and aged stone walls, there was nothing particularly unique or showy about her grandfather's home. It was, however, surrounded by a stunning inland vista of mountains and valleys.
As Elyse approached the main courtyard, the mid-morning sunshine felt warm and pleasant on her skin, but, with every step she took, an uncomfortable tightness grew in her chest. She grew restless and uneasy. Elyse couldn't pinpoint why she was feeling this way.
Alessandro glanced over toward her. He seemed to sense her unrest. "Are you alright?"
"I'll be fine," she replied with a quick smile. "Just feeling nervous."
He grabbed her hand and squeezed her palm. "I am here."
"Thank you," Elyse murmured, giving him a squeeze in return.
They rang the doorbell. An older, stern-faced housekeeper named Matilde came to receive them. She was blonde, like Malina, but her snippy countenance was nothing like Malina's steady, calming demeanor. With a slight ache in her heart, Elyse wondered when she would be able to see her friend again. She wanted to bring Malina back to Palermo as soon as possible. Away from Carmen and Valentina and the threat these Rizzo women posed against them.
In hasty strides, Matilde led Elyse and Alessandro, through the entryway, down several more hallways. They walked by a small parlor room. Elyse peered inside for the briefest of moments. A vintage-looking baby grand sat inside the room. Goosebumps rose on her skin as though she'd seen a ghost. The exquisite instrument was colored in dark walnut with ornate gold leaf trim running along its three legs. At first glance, the piano was quite stunning. Upon closer inspection, though, some of the stain was fading and the wood was slightly chipped .
Suddenly, Elyse realized why she'd been feeling so unwell. She was in Benedetto Graviano's home. But she was also in Gianna Graviano's home . It felt surreal to be standing in the place that her mother had lived in as a girl.
Elyse couldn't help remarking, "That's a b-beautiful piano."
A tremor of emotion betrayed her voice. Papá was the only family Elyse had ever known. It would've been nice to grow up with a mother, too. Benedetto told her that Gianna had loved music. She'd also been a talented pianist. The heaviness inside morphed into longing. If only the black and white ivory keys on the piano could share the stories they had seen.
Matilde grunted, "That cosa fastidiosa only takes up space, gathering dust." Troublesome thing.
"What a shame," Elyse whispered.
The housekeeper continued, grumbling, "No one plays it anymore."
A lump formed in her throat. Elyse felt almost certain that the piano had belonged to her mother. Alessandro cast another questioning glimpse in her direction as Matilde ushered them into her grandfather's study. Elyse smiled at her husband again, reassuringly, even though she felt restless. Alessandro didn't look convinced by her act. The weight of his gaze followed her everywhere. But he kept quiet, seemingly willing to let it slide for now.
When they entered the room, Benedetto was already sitting behind his desk, awaiting their arrival.
Elyse glanced around the cramped, cluttered room. The air smelled slightly musty. It was a mix of old books and cigar smoke and aged leather. Green eyes darted toward the corner. Beside one of the bookshelves, a mahogany and rosewood chess set had been laid out on a small round table between two leather armchairs. It looked picturesque. The scene seemed to be drenched in nostalgia.
An unexpected pang of sadness ripped through her. There was so much she wanted to learn about her family. Her mind began to spiral. Was this the very same room where her grandfather had played chess with her mother? How did Benedetto feel about Gianna's death? Was her grandfather still grieving? All of these dissipating thoughts were followed by one final question. Most importantly, how did Gianna die? Elyse's eyes narrowed by a fraction as they locked onto her grandfather's wizened face. Did she die in the same way Alessandro's grandfather had killed Renata?
Benedetto waved Matilde away and greeted Elyse and Alessandro. " Benvenuti . "
" Grazie ," replied Alessandro.
Her grandfather rose from his chair and strode over to the chess set. Benedetto took the seat by the black pieces. He then glanced at Elyse and gestured to the other armchair. " Per favore. Siediti ." Please. Sit.
She sat down beside the white pieces.
Alessandro moved over as well to stand next to her like a loyal watchdog while leaning over every other minute to murmur translations of her grandfather's Italian into her ear.
Benedetto grunted, " Cominciamo. è la tua mossa ." Let us begin. It's your move.
They started to play.
Elyse moved one of her pawns forward. Her grandfather countered by moving one of his own. Elyse understood the rules of the game, but she hadn't gotten a chance to study strategy or gameplay tactics. She felt anxious playing against her grandfather. Elyse couldn't shake the feeling that he was using this game to judge her.
As the game stretched on, Alessandro started conversing with Benedetto in Italian. He directed at her grandfather, " Come ti sta trattando la vita ?" How's life treating you?
Benedetto replied, " Potrebbe essere migliore, ma non posso lamentarmi ." Could be better, but I can't complain.
Then, he added, " Mi dispiace per la tua perdita. Tuo padre era una leggenda ." I'm sorry for your loss. Your father was a legend.
Alessandro's jaw grew tight, but he accepted Benedetto's condolences with grace.
Elyse understood most of their small talk, but she still struggled to understand certain words or phrases. She kept her expression unresponsive and detached, though, when the men's' chat swerved toward the funeral and their agenda against the other clans.
Her grandfather inquired, " Non consideri più Aberto un alleato ?" You no longer consider Aberto to be an ally?
Alessandro shook his head. " No ."
" Ma intendi usarlo, ancora ?" But you intend to use him, still?
Alessandro nodded. " Sì ."
Their talk dragged into the more finite details while Elyse waged war against her grandfather on a battlefield of light and dark squares. It was a bloodless massacre. Elyse was forced to sacrifice her bishop and rook within the first five minutes. Elyse lost her first match against Benedetto eight minutes later. She was checkmated during the second one in ten. Before her husband concluded his chat with her grandfather, she lost two more times.
When her grandfather started setting up the pieces for another round, Elyse requested Alessandro to translate for her. She implored, "No more for today."
Alessandro relayed the message to Benedetto.
Her grandfather's face darkened with disapproval. Benedetto muttered under his breath, " Mi aspettavo di più da te ." I expected more from you.
Alessandro coughed. "He is a little... disappointed."
His translation was far too kind.
Elyse smiled warily at her grandfather. "I said— no more for today . But there will definitely be a next time. It's clear to me that I didn't prepare enough to take on a player like you. I'll practice more, though, so, hopefully, in time, it'll take you twice as long to beat me."
Alessandro continued to act as the go-between for the rest of Elyse's exchange with her grandfather, translating her words into Italian and Benedetto's words into English.
" Hai intenzione di perdere di nuovo con me? La prossima volta ?" You intend to lose to me again? Next time?
"Yes," Elyse replied, "but I won't stop trying until I win."
Benedetto eyed her intently. " Non so se sono d'accordo con la tua strategia ." I don't know if I agree with your strategy.
Elyse felt uneasy under the weight of his stare. "How come?"
Benedetto explained, " Possiamo permetterci di perdere molte volte negli scacchi, ma abbiamo solo una possibilità di vincere nella vita. I perdenti muoiono in Cosa Nostra ." We can afford to lose many times in chess, but we only have one chance to win in life. Losers die in Cosa Nostra.
"True," Elyse agreed, "but I don't live my life the way I play chess. Games are just games. In real life, though, I know the difference between what I can afford to lose and what must be done. No matter the cost ."
" E cosa pensi debba essere ottenuto a tutti i costi ?" And what do you think must be achieved at all costs?
What was the answer that Benedetto wanted to hear? After a few moments of deliberation, Elyse answered, "Stability between our clans, so that everyone knows their place. It is the only way our businesses won't suffer losses. "
Her grandfather's face finally broke into a shrewd smile. " Mi sento allo stesso modo, nipote. Per me tutto è un mezzo per un fine. Solo la linea di fondo è importante ." I feel the same way, granddaughter. For me, everything is a means to an end. Only the bottom line matters .
"I'm glad we agree on something," mumbled Elyse.
He remarked rather unexpectedly, " Continuo a vedere tracce di Gianna in te, ma ora vedo che non sei per niente la figlia di mia figlia ." I keep seeing traces of Gianna in you, but I see now that you're not my daughters' daughter at all.
Elyse's face fell. Had she failed to win over her grandfather's approval? She berated herself for speaking her mind. She should've let Alessandro do all of the talking. Now, their partnership wouldn't be as strong. Her grandfather was old school, after all, traditional-minded, like Vincenzo, men of a generation who believed that women ought to be seen and not heard.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled in an attempt to backpedal a little and remedy the error in her judgment, "what I meant to say was—"
Benedetto interrupted her quietly, " Vuoi sapere come è morta tua madre ?" Do you want to know how your mother died?
Her heart stopped for a moment. She hadn't expected her grandfather to bring up this tragedy on his own. From the corner of her eye, Elyse noticed Alessandro's face growing stiff with shock as well. Her husband was eyeing Benedetto with uncertainty. He appeared to be as caught off guard as she felt.
Curiosity unfurled beside a sense of dread. Elyse nodded with a slightly dazed and fearful expression. "Please tell me.”
" Suicidio ," came her grandfather's emotionless reply.