10. Chapter 10
10
Elyse texted Alessandro on the drive back to the palazzo.
Alessandro was already standing in the foyer when Elyse brought Mariposa inside. His face betrayed no emotion when he greeted her, “Welcome home, wife.”
Elyse eyed Alessandro closely, trying to get a read on him. “Hello, husband.”
Distrust glittered from his eyes as he glanced at Mariposa. Glaring at her like a hawk, he taunted, “Tuo padre sa che sei qui?” Does your father know that you are here?
Mariposa glowered back before ducking behind Elyse. She coughed under her breath, "Bastardo!"
"I understand why you might be upset," Elyse addressed Alessandro, attempting to soothe him. "It was hard to explain through text, but I can tell you everything now. Come with me ."
Monte and Luca stayed behind with Mariposa while Elyse pulled Alessandro into another room. She proceeded to summarize, in detail, what had transpired at the cafe. Elyse then revealed the scars and bruises she saw on Mariposa’s body. Finally, she shared everything Mariposa had revealed about Gaspare, Orlando, and Cara.
“Fucking Aberto,” Alessandro cursed in livid tones.
Elyse asked, "Will you let Mariposa stay with us?"
"Only during the day," he relented after a slight pause. "At night, send her home with Monte or Luca. They can keep an eye on Mariposa until I know where we stand with Aberto."
Elyse's heart swelled. Her husband had readily agreed to take in Mariposa despite the deadly risk it posed. She hadn't misjudged his character. As capo , kindness might be considered a liability, but, as a man, he’d never looked more attractive in her eyes.
Perhaps, as Alessandro had once claimed, there could be honor in the gray, after all?
With the matter of Mariposa settled between them, Elyse turned her attention to the upcoming funeral. Alessandro did the same. The final days of preparation scraped by on pins and needles. Gianna's music box continued to sit in their bedroom. Everything fell into a state of ebb and flow. Set plans constantly needed to be adapted to fit each new piece of intel that flowed from Elyse's contacts, like Mariposa and Antonia, as well as Alessandro's men and Benedetto's men. Friday came and went. Saturday followed suit. Then, Sunday arrived before Elyse was ready for it.
There wasn't a cloud in sight on the morning of Vincenzo Vitale’s funeral. The Sicilian sun shone blindingly bright, and the skies were dyed strikingly blue as though God Himself failed to see the tragedy in the occasion. The old capo's memorial service was being held at a remote church located an hour outside of Palermo. It was nestled in the mountains between two neighboring towns.
Small and humble at first glance, the ancient walls of the church belied its modest exterior. Every brick and stone had been infused with touches of Saracen and Norman culture, reflecting centuries of history that had survived storms and strife. There was a timelessness that felt quite sacred. Its location was also very isolated, which made it perfect for the bloodbath they were about to engage in.
Earlier that morning, a fleet of slow-moving black vehicles had followed a black hearse up narrow, winding mountain roads. Each car was packed with the most prominent figures from the Vitale, Berlusconi, De León, Svizzi, Trevisano, Moretti, and Graviano clans. These same vehicles were now parked beside the church in neat, tidy rows.
Everyone was dressed in black, including Elyse. She felt a bit lost in the crowd of men. Other than Tara Trevisano and Antonia Svizzi, there weren't any other women in attendance. Notable faces, such as Carmen Vitale, Cara Berlusconi, and Mariposa De León, were nowhere in sight.
Valentina, however, had come.
Donning a sharp black blazer and hip-hugging pencil skirt, her stepsister-in-law's face looked a bit more gaunt compared to the last time they crossed paths, but she was still as striking and gorgeous as ever. The day before, Alessandro allowed Malina to bring Valentina back from Salemi since the woman had, supposedly, agreed to play a key role in their plans.
Standing with the handful of women, Elyse waited for the casket to be removed from the hearse. She kept a close eye on Valentina. She didn't like the way the blonde kept glancing at Gaspare. A touch of malice gleamed in her blue eyes.
Was Valentina truly planning to go along with this sham of a marriage?
Skepticism plagued Elyse. The blonde's attitude was beginning to feel too accommodating. Suspiciously so. Valentina was probably fantasizing about putting a bullet through her groom-to-be right this second.
Once they entered the church, guests shuffled inside and took their seats along the dark oak pews. Elyse and Valentina sat beside each other. They were close to one of the side exits. Alessandro, Benedetto, and members from the other clans carried Vincenzo’s casket through the entrance of the church. An ethereal rendition of "Amazing Grace" played in the background. With four men positioned on each side, they walked down the aisle with the casket hoisted upon their shoulders in slow, somber steps. The casket was laid down beside the altar.
As Benedetto and Alessandro came to sit beside Elyse, her gaze studied the stained glass windows on either side of the church. Shadows and silhouettes of their men flashed by as they moved into position around the perimeter. They were on standby. If Gaspare De León didn't make a move against Domenico Berlusconi, then—
The priest began to lead them in prayer, "Padre nostro che sei nei cieli..." Our Father who art in heaven.. .
Elyse struggled to stay in the moment. Fear stung her senses. Her insides were trembling. There was so much going on even though a bullet had yet to fly. These moments were the final lull before the chaos. She felt it in her bones. Elyse forced herself to appear calm and collected, at least, outwardly, as her eyes continued to sweep the room for signs of danger.
Valentina was putting on a masterful performance to her right, weeping and praying softly as crystalline tears glistened down her cheeks.
The priest droned on, "Sia santificato il tuo nome..." Hallowed be thy name...
Across the aisle, Orlando was watching his brother like a spider about to catch a fly.
Gaspare wouldn't stop glowering in Domenico's direction.
A balding, beefy-looking fellow named Ronaldo was one of Domenico's bodyguards. His hand kept drifting toward his chest as though getting ready to pull out a gun from inside his suit jacket.
"Venga il tuo regno..." Thy kingdom come...
Alessandro's face remained impassive, but Elyse could feel the tension radiating from her husband's core.
Aberto and her grandfather appeared to be the most unreadable ones. Elyse didn't know whether or not this was a good sign.
"Sia fatta la tua volontà..." Thy will be done...
Suddenly, a faintly abrasive smell hit Elyse's nostrils. Was the room looking hazier than before? She coughed and glanced up. Thin clouds colored in a ghostly white hue billowed through the air vents, shrouding the ceiling rafters in a light, misty fog. Panic and confusion surged through Elyse's entire body.
Fire?
Captivated by the smoke, she didn’t notice Gaspare as he reached into his blazer to pull out a weapon. Before the priest could utter another word, the final lull of peace came to an abrupt end, and chaos was unleashed in three blood-curdling beats.
One.
An ear-splitting crack sounded through the air.
Two.
Ronaldo screamed and fell to the floor in a pool of blood.
Three.
All the guns came out.
The De Leóns and the Berlusconis were aiming at each other .
Alessandro, Benedetto, and their men had no choice but to pull their guns on the Berlusconis as well. They needed to maintain the facade of being allied with the De Leóns.
The Gravianos and Svizzis followed Alessandro's lead.
The Trevisanos sided with the Berlusconis.
The Morettis did as well.
Hard, clear lines had been drawn in the sand.
The poor priest swooned and fainted at this point, toppling to the ground with a limp thud .
Elyse's heart hammered away. Everything was hurtling south so fast. She’d no idea that Gaspare would get trigger-happy right off the bat. They’d been planning to slip away through the side exits, one by one, after the prayers wrapped. Now it was too late to make their escape.
Gripping his weapon in hand, Alessandro growled at Elyse, "Get on the floor."
Fumes continued to waft down from the vents. Whether or not there was a fire, they needed to get out as soon as possible. Elyse dropped down to the ground and hissed a warning at Alessandro, "Look up!"
Her husband cursed under his breath as he spotted the smoke, "Fuck."
Crouching between the pews, terror shot through Elyse's veins like a deadly, winding omen. There were only two fucking exits in the church. Her eyes kept straying toward the side door located a few feet away. She searched for the pair of heavy wooden doors at the main entryway as well. There were no signs of flames, not yet, anyway, but the bizarre, unexplained smoke continued to float overhead in cloudy swirls.
A church of this size could be engulfed in a fiery blaze within minutes. Time wasn't on their side. They needed to evacuate the premises —now, now, now— but Elyse knew better than to make sudden movements in front of the armed mafiosi before her. Which would be worse? Death by fire or death by gunfire? Panic crawled up her throat. She tried not to scream.
Willing herself to stay calm, Elyse listened with bated breath as Alessandro addressed the room full of criminals, calmly and confidently even while the reaper seemed to be closing in on them, "Mio padre è morto. Ronaldo è morto. Questa è una tragedia sufficiente per oggi. Mettiamo da parte le nostre lamentele per un altro giorno." My father is dead. Ronaldo is dead. That is enough tragedy for today. Let us set aside our grievances for another day.
Domenico sneered and spat, " Gaspare ha ucciso il mio uomo. Non puoi aspettarti che lo lasci andare." Gaspare has killed my man. You cannot expect me to let this go.
"Il tuo uomo ha ucciso il suo uomo per primo," Alessandro reminded him, "Una morte per una morte. Voi due siete pari." Your man killed his man first. A death for a death. You two are even.
Elyse could tell that her husband was trying to walk the line between capo and peacekeeper. If bullets began to fly, their men could probably take on the Berlusconis, Morettis, and Trevisanos. They already outnumbered them within the church, and Alessandro and Benedetto had placed dozens more around the perimeter for backup, but there would be no guarantee for them to emerge from such a battle unscathed. Anyone could get shot in the crossfire. The veneer of their plans had gone awry, Elyse noted, but the bones were still salvageable.
At this very moment, tensions were being stretched tight and thin. One miscalculated move followed by one wrong look could set an irreversible catastrophe in motion. No one seemed interested in lowering their guns. But time was running out. The smoke above was looking more menacing by the second.
Elyse gazed up at the statue of the Virgin Mary that overlooked the altar and Vincenzo's casket. She prayed that no one would let loose a bullet before her husband could get this shitshow under control.
Domenico challenged Alessandro, "Bafangu, chooch! Vincenzo è morto. Non puoi dirmi cosa fare." Fuck yourself, jackass! Vincenzo is dead. You can't tell me what to do.
Alessandro smirked and kept his Beretta fixed on Domenico. "Non mi riconosci come il tuo capo?" You do not recognize me as your capo?
"No," Domenico growled.
"Quindi," Alessandro drawled, "pensi di essere al di sopra di me. Pensi anche di meritare più rispetto di Carlo Moretti e Samuele Trevisano?" So, you think you are above me. Do you also think that you are more deserving of respect than Carlo Moretti and Samuele Trevisano?
"Merito di essere il capo. Non tu," spat Domenico. I deserve to be capo. Not you.
Elyse watched Carlo and Samuele's faces darken with displeasure. She sensed that her husband was purposely provoking an argument between Domenico and his two allies. Scowling deeply, Carlo and Samuele began to talk quietly amongst themselves.
Was Alessandro's strategy working?
Her husband continued to sow discord between the three men, "Mi conosci da tutta la vita, Domenico. Sai che sono un amante, non un combattente. Anch'io vorrei non dover fare il capo." You have known me my whole life, Domenico. You know I am a lover, not a fighter. I wish I did not have to be capo, either.
Domenico scoffed, "Tutto quello che so è che sei una vergogna per il nome di Vitale." All I know is that you are a disgrace to the Vitale name.
Elyse noticed a sly gleam in her husband's brown and blue-gray eyes as he returned, "Forse hai ragione. Io non assomiglio per niente a mio padre, ma tu sei diverso. A differenza di me, vedo che assomigli molto a tuo padre. Tuo padre, Diego Berlusconi, in passato si è approfittato del padre di Carlo. Ti lodo per aver portato avanti la sua eredità con quello che stai facendo a Carlo." Perhaps, you are right. I am nothing like my father, but you are different. Unlike me, I see you are much like your father. In the past, your father, Diego Berlusconi, took advantage of Carlo's father. I commend you for carrying on his legacy with what you are doing to Carlo.
Carlo snarled, "Di cosa sta parlando, Domenico?" What is he talking about, Domenico?
Domenico's gaze shifted to the side, muttering, "Niente." Nothing.
Alessandro supplied, "Diego ha ingannato la tua famiglia per milioni di dollari e Domenico continua a derubarti." Diego cheated your family out of millions of dollars, and Domenico continues to steal from you.
Right away, Elyse recognized where her husband had retrieved this sensitive information. The old records on Renata's memory card were proving to be useful, after all.
Carlo looked livid. "Che cazzo?" What the fuck?
"Guarda i conti di Romano, Carlo," Alessandro advised, "prima di fare di Domenico il tuo re." Look into the Romano accounts, Carlo, before you make Domenico your king.
A shadow of anger and doubt entered Carlo's eyes as he exploded at Domenico, "Non sei il mio re. Siamo uguali!" You are not my king. We are equals!
Domenico retorted cruelly, "Non sei niente senza di me!" You are nothing without me!
While the duo argued in progressively louder and heated tones, Domenico's grudge against Gaspare seemed to fall to the wayside, and the barrels of everyone's guns slowly drifted downwards. Danger melted away. Elyse's tense muscles relaxed slightly.
Had her silent prayer to the Virgin Mary been answered?
Only Domenico and Carlo were at odds now. It seemed her husband had successfully deescalated the situation and prevented an all-out gunfight between the seven clans. Peace didn't last, though.
Another deafening crack echoed through the church.
Elyse's eyes widened in horror. A bullet had been fired from Domenico’s gun. Carlo's body lay on the ground alongside Ronaldo's corpse. Guts and blood stained the floor.
"Questo," Domenico roared with a crazed gleam in his eyes, "è quello che succede agli uomini che mi incrociano!" This is what happens to men who cross me!
Still gripping his pistol in hand, Domenico swiveled the barrel of his gun toward Gaspare. "Muori, maiale di De León." Die, you De León pig.
But the bastard never got to pull the trigger. Aberto was faster. His gun lifted, and, with a pop-pop-pop , he fired three shots straight into Domenico. A shower of crimson sprayed from his chest as he crumpled lifelessly to the floor.
"Quello," Aberto grunted, "è quello che succede agli uomini che osano minacciare la mia fam—" That is what becomes of men who dare to threaten my fam—
A sickening confetti of brain matter burst in air as Alessandro shot Aberto in cold blood. It shocked every single person in the church, especially Elyse. His bullet had pierced Aberto's skull right between the eyes. The man died without finishing his sentence.
Until now, Alessandro had been following their playbook, pitting the other mafiosi against each other, while keeping his hands clean of the violence. But taking Aberto’s life hadn’t been part of their plans. With a grim expression, Elyse wondered what might have prompted her husband to change things up. Did it have something to do with Mariposa? Or Tommy Wilkes? Either way, the abusive, backstabbing fucker deserved to die.
Alessandro glanced at Gaspare and stated coldly, "May your father rest in peace. I congratulate you on becoming the new head of the De León clan."
Gaspare's entire face had gone pale with shock and outrage. His brothers, Orlando and Soren, aimed their guns at Alessandro. The pair looked as though they were about to avenge their father's death when Elyse heard two more shots ring out beside her.
Elyse's eyes darted toward her stepsister-in-law. Valentina was grasping a Glock in her hand. It appeared she’d ended the De León brothers before they could end Alessandro .
With a deadly smile, the blonde blew an air kiss in Gaspare's direction and cooed, "Se non ti comporti bene, amore mio, ho una pallottola anche per te." If you do not behave, my love, I have a bullet for you, too.
Gaspare looked as though he couldn't decide whether he wanted to vomit or piss his pants.
Elyse felt sick as well. Awe and distress churned within. She didn't know whether today's events had gone smoothly. They certainly hadn't gone according to plan. All she knew was that their enemies were dead, and they were alive. Vincenzo's memorial service had started with Benedetto, Alessandro, Elyse, Valentina, one priest, ten guests, and seven bodyguards. One from each clan. Now, there were six dead bodies on the ground.
One Berlusconi bodyguard.
Two brothers.
Three heads of clans.
And the priest remained unconscious.
With Aberto’s blood dripping down his face, Alessandro smiled like a dark angel. "For those of you who are still alive and wish to stay alive, my men have the church surrounded. You are outnumbered and outgunned, so put down your weapons and go back to your clans. Tell them what you witnessed today. Tell them Domenico and Carlo are dead because they wanted to replace me. Tell them I killed Aberto because he tried to kill me. Tell them I am not my father, but we will be doing things my way from now on. Tell them that I am your fucking capo , and I do not fuck around with anyone who tries to fuck me over."
Her husband's threat appeared to be very effective. Grunts of acknowledgment and murmurs of compliance filled the air. Guns immediately returned to their holsters.
Alessandro chuckled as he glanced around the room. “Anyone else want to die today?”
No one dared to make a move against him. With tense expressions, the guests shook their heads emphatically.
"Then listen to me carefully if you want to live," Alessandro drawled while gesturing to the smoke near the rafters. "The church appears to be on fire. We need to get the hell out of here. Now ."
A gasp passed through the crowd as everyone's heads tilted upwards. Panic erupted and the guests scrambled toward the exits. Only to find both doors were locked .
Elyse shot an accusing glare in her grandfather's direction. Benedetto insisted with a troubled frown, "Non ero io." It was not me.
She blinked rapidly in distress. "Are you fucking serious?"
Then, as though the Devil had timed it Himself, the wooden doors guarding the arched entrance to the church burst into flames.