Chapter 29 #2
“He paid the Russians to cover up,” Cedro confirms. “Were they responsible for the act itself? Nothing suggests so. All I know is money exchanged hands, and they offered up a couple of Russian-speaking men and claimed they were their soldiers to cover it up. Ettore had leverage—some compromising pictures of the Pakhan’s son. A favor for a favor.”
“How long have you known?”
“A month.”
“Jesus fucking Christ. And you sat on this? Ettore could and would kill you for having the information alone.” I rake my fingers through my hair, get up, and pace. “Why didn’t you bring this to me? Christian is here every week. You know you could trust him. You just said as much.”
“To be fair, Christian is trustworthy but volatile. You had dropped out of circulation and appeared to be thriving in your new role.”
“Me? Ettore told me bluntly I was going to be a capo and to stay away from his wife in the same breath. I’d been so busy worrying about my reaction around her that it never crossed my mind to worry about hers.
He said he needed his wife to focus on her husband.
A week later, he sent his thugs around with a hammer to reinforce the point.
So, no, I wasn’t thriving. I was fucking floundering.
Without Leon and Christian, I’d probably have done something reckless and been dead.
But you, you gave your daughter to that animal. ”
“I was in a wheelchair, and my wife was dead. I thought I was protecting her!”
“You fucked up.”
“I did, and I have to live with that.”
I push the file back across the table. “What do you want me to do with this evidence? Why now?”
“Right the wrong. You’re not marrying Helena for love nor the advantage, nor even for Ettore’s good graces. I’m betting you have a plan. You’re no good to my daughter dead. You’re no good to any of us if you become reckless.”
“You’re right about the marriage to Helena.”
I return to my seat. “Marrying her was Leon’s suggestion. Ettore has already told me he wants closer ties between us now I’m about to be part of his family. I need reasons to be here in the city and closer to the power base.”
“If you move too aggressively, it will tip him off.”
“Trust me, I understand. As does Leon.”
His lips purse. “Leon is not simply your manager.”
“No, he’s not. He believes Ettore killed his father although he never found the evidence.”
“After this?” He indicates the file. “I suspected the same.”
“Leon wants blood. We both do. We’ve turned around a corrupt portfolio. We’re making a lot of money and amassing soldiers as quietly as possible. None of which will help us unless we can find a way to be brought back into the fold.”
“I want to be there when you kill him.”
“Oh, no. You don’t get to ask me anything anymore.”
“Carmela? You don’t hold a grudge against her, surely?”
“No. Never. She was always destined to be mine.”
It’s an evening from hell. Helena tries to feel me up in the damn restaurant. I swear if she’d raked her nails down the back of my hand one more time, I’d have snapped them off.
Then I go home to my penthouse, the one I lived in before I became capo and moved to the marina complex. Christian is waiting there for me, and the first thing he does is slug me in the face.
“What the fuck, Dante? Why are you marrying that bitch?” His chest is heaving, and his nostrils are flared. The way he’s eyeballing me says he’s thinking of thumping me again.
I don’t give him a chance. Fisting his collar, I slam him up against the wall. My jaw is throbbing. How did he not break every bone in his hand? “It was Leon’s idea.”
“Well, it’s a stupid fucking idea. Do you realize what it will do to Carmela?”
“Trust me, having Helena’s hands on me all evening is not something I do for fun… Besides, I thought you hated Carmela. Something changed that I should know about?”
“He’s good with her… in his own unique way. Gives her an outlet,” Cedro said.
His face shifts just a fraction before he shuts it down. If I wasn’t so hyper-focused, I might have missed it. Seems I was right to question Christian’s closeness to Carmela.
“Fuck you, Dante.”
He didn’t answer my question. But whatever is or isn’t happening between them takes a backseat to the current cause of my burning rage. “You didn’t tell me Ettore was hurting her.”
His belligerence drains. He unpeels my fingers and pushes me back. I let him. My throbbing jaw helps to center me, stopping me from slugging him back.
He roughly tugs his collar straight and then gestures between us. “This right here is why I didn’t tell you. What were you going to do about it? Not a fucking thing, that’s what.”
He has a point.
“What’s the play here?” he continues. “I’m assuming you have a plan, and returning here is part of it?”
I go over to the bar and pour myself a whiskey.
“You change your mind, Dante?” he goads when I don’t answer straight away. “Going for the easy life instead of screwing Ettore over?”
“Marrying Helena is not an easy life. Her child is a budding Satanist, and her mother is only interested in my bank balance.” I grimace.
“Among other things. She doesn’t realize it yet, but I will be keeping her well away from me and my assets…
of all kinds. Fucking her, even to consummate my marriage, is not going to happen. ”
“What if she tells Ettore?”
I drain the measure of whiskey I just poured, letting it burn a path down my throat, and pour another.
“She won’t. Whether she likes it or not, her fate will be tied to mine the moment the ink hits the marriage register.
I will make sure she understands the parameters.
There are no prisoners in this war. And make no mistakes, this is a war… Some evidence has come to light.”
“What kind of evidence?”
“Game-changing evidence. But it needs to be handled carefully, given Ettore has half his family in positions of power. I need to update Leon. But my feeling is it will facilitate our plans.”
“Leon’s not just a club manager, is he?”
“No… I want to see Carmela alone. Can you make that happen?”
His grin turns calculating. “I’ll work something out.”
“By the way, what happened to your face?”
There’s a delay. His expression does that emptying thing it sometimes does. “Carmela bitched on me to her husband. He took exception. Wanted me to remember my place.”
The warning bells are going off again. I take a smaller sip of whiskey this time and ask myself if I want to go there. Too much time has passed . They’re together several times a week. All this aside, things are about to heat up. I need my brother on my side.
“You didn’t answer my question. Do you still hate her, Christian?”
He looks me dead in the eye and smiles. “Yeah, I really do.”