14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
FIAMETTA
I have been so overexcited by Crue’s reaction to my good news that I haven’t been able to sleep. He left a few hours ago, wanting to slink through the shadows to avoid Father’s patrolling men. So, instead of sleeping, I find myself packing once again.
I didn’t lie about having my bags ready, after Crue left. But those ones held my clothes and a few sparse belongings. This time my cases hold everything else. All of the trinkets I brought to make this room feel more homey. My scattering of teddy bears and toys on the chest of drawers that haven’t been moved from their place since Crue bumped into them. My copy of Pride and Prejudice , and the first edition of it that Crue left on my nightstand. They’re the little things that hold so many memories, and that got me through the months I had to stay in Father’s mansion.
Tomas’s abrupt arrival in my bedroom shatters my good mood. It’s just like him. He has a way of putting a dampener on pretty much every amazing thing that comes my way, without even knowing he’s doing it.
I’ve had enough, and as Crue is taking over Tomas’s role as my personal guard, I’m not afraid to let him know it.
“It’s a marriage of convenience and we both know it,” I reply to his comment about his being my husband-to-be. “Let’s not pretend you actually give a shit about me,” I roll my eyes and continue packing away the last few things.
“You’re right about that,” Tomas says, and when I turn to face him, his sickening, yellow-toothed grin is on full display. “But I expect my bitch to show me some goddamned respect.”
“Your bitch ?” I emphasize the word.
“Yes. Haven’t you realized it yet, Fiametta?” He takes a step forward. I take one back, to keep my distance from him.
Not this again. After all the thrills I’ve gone through with Crue’s return to New York, I can’t handle Tomas’s attempts at touching me. I’ve managed to fend them off for a long time, with Crue’s help at times, but things are different now. We’re supposed to marry, and Father has shown his disinterest in meddling with our affairs.
I don’t think I’m going to get off as easily this time.
“What?” I spit, feeling my face contort in disgust.
“All you are is a bitch in heat. A tool to breed so that your daddy’s empire can stay in the family.” He stops, midway, trapping me between the window and the door. He blocks my only escape route, unless I want to take a page from Crue’s book and jump out of the window.
“Don’t kid yourself that any of this is some valiant effort from your father to keep you safe. You were born a woman. You’re the wrong gender. You’re worth is tied to your twat, and Lorenzo knows it.”
For the longest time, I would have believed Tomas. My blood would have run cold as he spoke those vile words, but my heart would have shattered into a thousand, tiny pieces. But the day Father expressed his concerns for the future —his and mine — my views changed.
Father isn’t perfect, especially not as a parent, but he has tried. His simple gesture of sitting me down, staying calm and speaking the words I’ve longed to hear for so many years, made me realize that Father isn’t the monster I’d always believed him to be. He cares in his own, special way. And I’m sure that after hearing this, he’ll see the error in his judgment in handing me over to Tomas.
“Then let’s see what Father has to say about it,” I say, trying to scare him. Father’s going to hear all about it, but I’d prefer it not to be this early in the morning.
“Yes, let’s.” Tomas leaps forward and latches onto my upper arm. Without giving me a moment to think or react, he starts dragging me toward the door and then through the halls toward Father’s office.
He pauses briefly when we come across a Napoli soldier. He shifts his cruel eyes to me, and then to the man, before speaking. “It’s time. Get ready.”
“How will we know, when?”
“Oh, you’ll know,” Tomas says, and starts pulling me along again.
We burst through Father’s door without knocking. He is already behind his desk, scanning a thick manilla folder.
“Tomas? Fia? What’s the meaning of this?” His eyes narrow and his face hardens.
“Go on, tell him,” Tomas uses his leverage on my arm to throw me in Father’s direction. I stumble forward, but catch myself before I topple over.
Father’s eyes shift to me and burning fury bubbles in them. Is it directed at Tomas or me? I can’t tell. With that thought comes my first pang of doubt that Tomas was being sincere in my room. Maybe Father and my heartfelt moment overlooking the evening sky was an act of remorse, rather than love.
I swallow back my tears, doing my best to match the confidence I had when I was fighting against Tomas.
“He said you regret having a daughter.”
Father’s features soften, and a hint of sadness appears amongst the anger.
“No. Not that. The other thing,” Tomas sighs.
“Our marriage is meant to give you an heir to take over the clan.” I hang my head, ashamed and embarrassed.
“Closer, but no, that’s not what I said,” Tomas hisses, “I called you a fuck-bitch who’s only purpose is for breeding,” He sounds way too happy saying such vile things in front of Father.
Father smashes both his fists into his desk and jumps to his feet. His red-faced fury makes the graying hairs atop his head stand out more than I’ve ever noticed before.
“You will watch your tongue in my home, and especially toward my daughter, Tomas,” Father shouts, and with that I let go of my worries about him being disingenuous. “You’re not a part of my family, yet. You’re a soldier whose loyalty is in question. Who has grown fat and lazy on his own self-serving greed.”
“Take a look at your own belly, Lorenzo,” Tomas snickers. I snap my head in his direction. He’s never been so brazenly disrespectful to my father to his face. This can’t be good. “Don’t talk to me about fat and lazy , when you’ve gone soft around the edges, and soft in your conquest of this city.”
“Let me show you how soft I’ve gone.”
It happens in slow motion. Father starts his threat while ripping open a desk drawer, where no doubt he has a gun lying. Tomas’s grin widens and he dips a hand behind his back, returning with a silver steel revolver in his grip. When I see it glint in the rays of the first morning light, I swear that my soul leaves my body and floats away into a distant corner, from where it can just watch the scene play out.
Do something.
Like what? Run in front of a bullet and get myself killed? No, there’s nothing I can do but watch with a cold grip of fear clenching my throat shut.
Father hasn’t managed to get his gun, when my eyes meet his face. He hoists his hands into the air, and his eyes are so terribly wide, I fear they might pop out of their sockets. He moves his mouth to say something, but a loud bang silences him. He falls into his chair, clasping his chest and a pool of red forms instantly on his powder blue button-up.
“Everyone’s got a lot to say, until they have point three-five-seven inches of scorched lead stuck in them.” Tomas approaches Father slowly, but not cautiously.
I don’t realize I’ve started crying until I feel a tear rolling down my cheek and falling into my still ajar mouth. I don’t understand the strange mix of emotions that course through me. They are not sadness, or anger, or fear of what might come next. I feel hollow and empty, with all the above fading into the ringing in my ears.
“What have you done?” Father asks, writhing in pain. His voice is so soft, so timid.
“I’ve set loose the dogs of war, Lorenzo. Those vicious monsters you tried so hard to keep hidden. Your death serves as their call.” Tomas lifts his gun again, pressing it against Father’s chest. “Your death serves as their clarion, ushering in a new rule. But know this, as you lie here dying. I still intend to take your bitch as mine. It will be a marriage of convenience, as she put it. Self-serving, as you did.” He turns his head to the side and snickers. “Well, she’ll be conveniently serving my cock until I get bored of her.”
“No, don’t—” I find my words, just as Tomas pulls the trigger again.
There’s no more fight from Father. He’s not trying to put pressure on his wound or to fight death’s call. His body falls limp, and with a wheeze, his last breath slips from his lips.
“What have you done ?” There it is, the sadness, making me bawl my eyes out as I stare at the men in front of me.
“Welcome to the dawning of a new era.” Tomas’s lost his fucking mind, and is screaming at me maniacally while hovering over my father’s body. “An iron-fisted rule. A conquest for New York and the poor souls inhabiting it.”
I scream. I cry for help, and make noises I never thought my frame could emit. I try to alert the Napoli men to what’s happening in here. But then I hear another gunshot, and after that another. The sounds set off a cacophony of thunderous claps that drown out my voice with their violence.
“Hear that?” he raises a cupped hand to his ear, listening to the noise outside. “The tolling bells of my coronation. They are bringing in my new dynasty. And, most importantly, Fia, those glorious sounds are my reminder to you...”
I collapse to my knees, unable to look away from my father, who is lying stiffly in his chair. A bloodied hand still rests on his chest and his eyes are still big and frozen in terror.
“You belong to me,” Tomas finishes his wild speech, and cocks his neck to the side. “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”