Chapter Twenty-Four Tiernan
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
TIERNAN
The next morning, I found my useless brothers-in-law and their cuntbag of a father on the golf course adjoined to their olive orchard.
After dropping Lila off at the main house, I borrowed one of their vintage golf carts from the stables and made my way to them, making it a point to run over all the flowerbeds and knocking down any Mother Mary and Jesus garden gnomes I suspected were pricey.
The golf course stretched across five acres, boasting manicured lawns, grooves, valleys, and dips.
The seaside cliff offered natural ravines along the coastline.
The Ferrante men were on the driving range next to a bucket of balls, shooting the shit and hitting balls directly into the mouth of the ocean.
I came to a screech, blocking their carts’ path, and hopped out.
Vello was the first to notice me. He straightened his posture from crouching over his walking cane, muttering something in Neapolitan. A heartfelt greeting, no doubt.
I casually plucked one of the golf clubs from the leathered stand bag midstride. A vintage piece that looked expensive as shit.
“What’s up, man?” Enzo raised his head from his ball, and I used the opportunity to swing the club and break it over the side of his arm.
“Stu puorc e merd!” He dropped to his knees with a rough cough, clutching his arm. “The fuck was that for?”
“What the—” Luca began, before I grabbed another golf club, breaking it in half over my knee and slicing his shoulder with it. It was less than a stab, but more than a poke. Enough to draw blood but not warrant stitches.
Having realized I wasn’t playing, Achilles sprang into his golf cart, tossing his half-dead father behind him on the passenger seat.
“Think carefully about your next move, Callaghan,” Achilles warned dryly. “My sister is too young to become a widow.”
I picked a third golf club, spinning its base across my index as I paced toward them, my blood bubbling in my veins like champagne.
“Don’t pretend you give a shit about her.”
“Callaghan,” Vello barked out. “Whatever you’re angry about, I’m sure we can—”
“She’s not intellectually impaired, you oversized used condoms.” I raised the club, slamming it against the vintage golf cart. Judging by Enzo’s wince, it cost a pretty penny. “She’s deaf. Smarter than everyone in this family combined.”
“What?” Luca threw a look of disbelief to his father.
“Did I fucking stutter?”
Enzo shook his head. “You’re saying she has no learning disabil—”
“She sutures like a surgeon and draws like Da Vinci.”
Luca’s mouth pressed into a hard line, his eyes darkening as he took that in.
Achilles said nothing. He simply stared, his sooty eyes as unsettling as a shallow grave.
“I mean, it’s not far-fetched.” Enzo rubbed at his arm, looking between his brothers. “When you think about it…she follows directions, holds eye contact with Mama and Imma. And he’s right. She’s pretty rad with the pencil. You’ve seen her shit. It’s good.”
“Still doesn’t explain why she’d want people to believe she’s incapable.” Luca locked his jaw.
“To throw the suiters off her scent,” Achilles said solemnly. “She wanted to avoid getting married to a Mafia prick. Didn’t work.” He leveled his eyes on me, turning his sharp gaze to his father. “Your response?”
Vello looked spaced out. My guess was his pain meds kicked in and slowed his mind. He shook his head. “This is the first time I’m hearing about this.”
“You think Mama kept a secret from you?” Luca looked skeptical.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Vello murmured bitterly. “And she never wanted Lila to marry someone from the trade.” He was quiet for a moment. “We could’ve formed an alliance with the Bratva through her. Their son was interested.”
The thought of Lila being touched by Alex Rasputin was enough to make me hurl each and every one of these assholes into the ocean.
I tsked. “You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.”
“I can’t believe Mama kept this from us.” Enzo ran his knuckles over his jaw. “Lila, too.”
“Lila was persuaded by your genius mother it was for the greater good,” I drawled.
“How come?” Enzo frowned.
“Because most mobsters look like wet farts and possess the same amount of charm,” Achilles guessed. “And she knew where this was headed.”
“We need to talk to Mama,” Luca said.
“Good idea.” I grabbed a fresh club and swung it over my shoulder, advancing toward my cart.
“Came to fetch you first before I go meet her.”
“Why?” Luca asked.
“Because you’re the only people who might stop me from killing her.”
_______
The Ferrantes arrived at their manor before me, probably realizing I was pissed enough to follow through with my threat to shoot the matriarch of the family.
By the time I parked the golf cart and walked inside, they were all sitting at the table in the kitchen, breads, soups, and salads spread before them.
There was a soccer game playing on a gilded framed TV, and a blue forza Napoli scarf draped over the dining chairs.
The men were barking orders at the soccer players on TV like they could hear them.
I finally met the elusive Imma. She was sitting with Lila, feeding my wife a hearty Italian wedding soup, cooing at her. Chiara was there, too. Everyone was already eating, but I didn’t mind. We weren’t really family, and thank fuck for that.
“Chiara. A word.” I planted myself between her and my wife.
“It’s Lady Chiara,” she enunciated through pursed lips. “And I do not appreciate your tone.”
“You can say whatever you wanna say to her right here,” Achilles informed me, sprawling on a seat and lighting himself a cigarette.
I reached across the table and yanked the cigarette from his mouth, flicking it into his drink. “Not in front of my wife. This applies both to your cigarette and the conversation.”
“You just threatened to kill her, bro,” Enzo pointed at me with his spoon.
“If we reach an understanding, she’ll probably get to live.”
“You’ll be six feet under if you threaten my wife again,” Vello drawled, staring bitterly at the bowl of food he probably couldn’t stomach. “Your audacity is starting to grate on my nerves, son.”
“Should’ve thought of that before you invited me into your family.”
A tug on my wrist made me look down at my wife.
“You get more bees with honey,” she signed.
“Fine.” I shook her off. “If your mother’s pathetic life means something to you, I guess she can keep it.”
Chiara put a hand to her diamond-decked neck, staring at her daughter with anger and betrayal.
“You speak to him now?”
“She does,” I supplied. “As she should. I’m her husband.”
“Mama, please.” Lila’s eyes were begging.
Chiara looked the other way. Something happened in my body. Something that didn’t even happen when I watched my sister almost get shot to death in a game of Russian roulette when we were kids.
Rage. Potent and red and inescapable.
“Mama, you told us Lila can’t understand us.” Luca kneaded his temples. “You said she is mentally four years old.”
“I said what needed to be said to keep her safe.” Chiara straightened her back primly.
“All this time… We could’ve talked to her.” Enzo’s lower lip curled.
“You dodged a bullet.” Achilles turned to Lila. He didn’t seem any more rocked by this revelation than he was by tomorrow’s weather forecast. “Asshole would’ve talked your ear off.”
“Achilles,” Chiara chided.
“He started it,” Achilles said gravely.
“Look at me. I’m the picture of a good brother.” Enzo gestured to his baby face. “How did I start it?”
“You were born,” Achilles deadpanned.
“Does this mean we’ll all have to learn ASL now?” Enzo swirled his tongue over a spoonful of soup.
“Yeah,” Luca growled. “All of us. Nonnegotiable.”
“Ugh, I suck at languages.”
“You suck at everything,” Achilles comforted him.
Luca turned to Lila, his scowl softening. “I’ll take ASL up immediately. In the meantime, if you need anything, you text us.”
Lila nodded, offering him a warm smile.
“This is madness.” Vello glared at his wife. “You cost me a good business deal. We’ll have words later.”
“Hold up.” Enzo raised his palm, turning to me. “How do you know ASL?”
“Grew up in a military school. They only let us speak one hour a day, and we were chatty bastards.” This skimmed the truth without really revealing it.
Vello motioned to his daughter, who turned to look at him. “Lila. Come here.”
She tore herself from her soup and gingerly shuffled in his direction. My eyes never wavered from them. I didn’t trust anyone who was willing to hand his daughter off to me.
He put a hand on her cheek. My fingers curled against the back of her empty chair, squeezing. “Bambina mia.” He tilted his head. “You sneaky little shit. I always knew you weren’t an idiot. No child of mine can be stupid.”
My nostrils flared. My wife’s face drained of color.
“Lila,” I clipped out. “That’s enough. Come finish your food.”
But my wife seemed to have enough of people bossing her around. Giving me the middle finger, she stomped out of the kitchen. Enzo stood up and followed her, muttering, “Nice going, stronzi.”
“She’d have never done this a month ago.” Achilles pointed at me with an unlit cigarette, deducing he could smoke, now that she was gone. “You’re spoiling her, Callaghan.”
I wasn’t doing jack shit other than not standing in her way to figure out who she truly was. She’d been kept on such a short leash here, her family naturally assumed she was a docile little thing.
“Mama.” Luca turned to Chiara. “What you did to her was inexcusable. Did you really think you could get away with it?”