Chapter Thirty-one
Ciro
I don’t dare look back as I walk into the house, her brown eyes call out to me, but I can’t bring myself to even turn and take one last glance. Anger spreads through my body, mixed with an emotion I don’t even understand. It feels weird, uncontrollable, and just fucking annoying. It shouldn’t bother me, her words and how she smiled about this Adam guy. This has to be the same fucking Adam that she has nightmares about, the same fucking dude that makes my nights a living hell. Yet, she has the fucking audacity to let herself giggle as she said he was perfect, and her first and only love? That’s fucking bull!
Why the hell does it even matter to me? Why does it feel like someone has punched me in the gut? I shouldn’t care, it isn’t of any concern to me. She can do whatever the fuck she pleases and it will be of no significance to my existence, at least that’s what I tell myself over and over. It doesn’t make me any less livid though, and the more I think about it, the more I know I have every reason to be. She is my WIFE!
Mine!
Adam has no claim to her and that is a fact! Yet, something about hearing her say it, so easily, so fondly, so fucking sincerely, it fucking eats at me, and fuck, do I hate it!
Franchesco follows me inside, his brow furrowed. He can tell I’m pissed, no doubt. Hell, I’m pissed at myself more than anything. He doesn’t say anything at first, but I can feel his eyes on me, waiting, like he knows something isn’t right. I have to get my shit together, but the words stick in my throat.
“Why’d you call me in here?” he finally asks, his voice low and whiny.
Of course he was enjoying spending time doing nothing and asking my wife about her first fucking love! How is that relevant and why does he need to know that? Are we in high school again? Or was this a game of truth or dare?
I run my hand through my hair, trying to focus on anything else besides my anger that seems to pour out onto everyone. He’d asked a question, one I didn’t have an answer to. What the hell was I going to say? That I came to check on Vida, only to find out some other guy, Adam, had a fucking piece of her heart, the same fucking Adam that haunts her dreams? What did he do to her that was so bad it haunts her, yet makes her so stupid to still be in love with him? No dick can be that good! The thoughts of him even touching her has me on my last nerve!
I’m pissed. So fucking pissed. At her, at myself, at everything. Especially Adam fucking nobody!
I want to say something, but my mouth feels dry, and my brain is spinning with shit that doesn’t make sense. I came here to check on her, but hearing her talk about this Adam guy has made me want to leave and never look at her again.
I’m not stupid, but the thought almost makes me laugh. I can’t live without her now that I have her. Fuck! I could stare at her till my eyes went dry and my heart stopped beating. I’m angry, yes, but that doesn’t change how perfect she looks.
Before I can come up with an excuse for why I needed Franchesco here, the sound of footsteps catches my attention.
I turn to face Carmela as she stands in the doorway, arms crossed, looking at me like I just kicked her dog.
“Why the hell were you an asshole to Vida?” she demands, her voice sharp and challenging, like I’m not already beating myself up about that.
“I have important shit to handle, sister,” I snap, trying to sound indifferent. I try to bury the image of the way Vida’s eyes looked at me, and how she had tried to say something and I shut her down. The image of her looking almost excited to see me is still rattling around in my head, like an itch I can’t scratch.
“I really don’t have time for this,” I lie, knowing this is all my time and thoughts are focused on right now.
Carmela doesn’t back down, but of course she won’t. She never does. “No, you don’t get it. You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend, and it’s pathetic, especially after what she’s been through.”
Shit! Shit! Shit! Of course I knew that! I watched her cry on the floor of her room. I watched her stand numb as I peeled the clothes off her body! I fucking bathed her, I saw the marks and bruises, and I knew what she had been through more than anyone! I once had those bruises, I was once the one afraid I wouldn’t see the next day. Yet . . . I was the biggest asshole to her.
I scoff, the words coming out colder than I intended, “I know what she has been through, Carmela, and jealous? I’m not jealous. That’s childish.”
Franchesco lets out a breath beside me, almost like he was resigned to something. Then he looks at me, his eyes narrowing as if he’s piecing things together.
“Wait, hold on, if you aren’t jealous, why did you turn cold when she talked about him?” he almost laughs.
I fucking dare him!
The words sting, but I don’t let it show. I’m not about to admit that he is right. Instead, I turn away from the two, trying to keep the walls up.
“Who the hell is this Adam guy, anyway?” I ask, my voice tight. I need a distraction from thinking about the way I hurt Vida.
“Fuck, you don’t know?” she asks, sounding genuinely surprised. I look at her and find an almost sorry look on her face.
“Know what?” I frown, confused.
She glances back at Vida, who is still sitting by the pool, her head down, lost in her phone. Her hair is spread over her shoulders, just the way I’d left it after drying it.
“I don’t think it’s my place to say, but he was someone close” she says, turning back to me with a serious, almost sad look on her face.
I freeze, her words hitting me like a fucking brick. I look at her, trying to make sense of it, but my brain struggles to connect the dots fast enough.
“So like a boyfriend?” Franchesco asks, sounding casual and obvious.
“Yes, stupid!” She rolls her eyes and laughs. “But there’s more to the story, and it isn’t mine to tell.”
“So, maybe when you aren’t a total idiot, she might just open up to you,” she adds, her blue eyes piercing mine before she narrows them on me, always wanting to have a final comeback.
My mind swims with curiosity, eager to know more about this Adam guy. I don’t know what to think or say, but one thing I’ve gathered from all of this is that they talk about him in past tense. He’s dead. Not like an ex or in the past you’re-dead-to-me dead, but very dead. Six feet below the earth, where the only verb that mattered was ‘decayed’, and that does make me feel a lot better.
I turn my gaze to her, watching Vida from across the room. She isn’t looking at me. She’s too lost in her thoughts, her gaze distant, and I can’t help but wonder what she’s thinking about.
Does she even know she’s somehow consumed my thoughts without making any effort?
I sigh, my anger draining away, quickly replaced by curiosity and the need to touch her skin again.
First, not running a background check on her came from a place of anger, not wanting to know more than I was already told. I hadn’t wanted to be married to her any more than she wanted to be married to me, and though I didn’t know Uncle Luca well, Dad trusted him when it came to her, so I trusted their decision, even if I hated it. Then, as the days went on, I wanted to respect her privacy as she did mine. Now, I just think I was stupid those two times, and I should have gotten the damn background check.
“Interesting,” I mutter, almost to myself. “I have things to take care of.”
I don’t bother to look back at either of them. I’m not in the mood for more questions. I need to see Cito and try and focus on something that isn’t brown skin, curly hair, stretch marks, perfect nails, or her fucking therapeutic laugh.
Franchesco gives me a questioning look but doesn’t say anything. Carmela, on the other hand, still seems determined to get under my skin.
“One minute you’re dry humping her, and the next you’re an ass. You better not be a dick to her again, Ciro,” she says, her tone softer but still pissed.
“You what!” Franchesco laughs, almost making me want to slap that smile off his face.
I give Carmela a quick nod before turning and walking away, heading further into the house. But before I get too far, I take one last look at Vida. She doesn’t look up at me, but I can tell she is still stuck in her thoughts, and damn, do I wish I was in there too, being thought of by her.
Vida
I stay under the umbrella, lost in my thoughts, my mind sti ll trying to wrap itself around what I could have done wrong. I can’t shake off the way he acted, the interaction replaying over and over in my head. The coldness in his eyes as he looked at me, how he looked like I had betrayed him or slapped him across the face. One minute he was the man who cared, the next he was back to being the man who couldn’t even stand looking at me. And I hate how much it hurts. How much I still want him to see me, just to look at me the way he did in the room while we talked. I can’t let myself go there, though. Not now. Not after he effortlessly pushed me to the curb like I’m insignificant. It isn’t anything new. The truth is I am insignificant. To Ciro at least.
I force my thoughts back to the other thing, the thing that had been haunting me ever since I’d heard it. The thing that felt like a piece of a puzzle I couldn’t ignore anymore.
The voice.
It echoes in my head like I’d just heard it yesterday. That voice, low and smug, laced with a confidence that makes my blood run cold. It’s a voice I knew, even if I hadn’t heard it in years. The Italian accent thick as he spoke, with that laugh that could never be mistaken. Even if I was in worse shape compared to how I am now, I would still remember that laugh and the words he said.
“Ciro knows about the mole and is going to find out. So I won’t be hanging around for him to get me. Get everything ready before it’s too late,” he’d said, his words replaying in my head like a broken record.
I remember every word clearly and I know, deep in my gut, that I’m not wrong. The man who’d said it had been in the room right next to where I was held, and the sound of his laugh was unmistakable. But it wasn’t just him. He’d talked about a family, the people he was working with, and the third party he was using. He was playing a dangerous game and he knew it, but he couldn’t wait to dump them all when it suited him. The worst part? He wasn’t just talking about Ciro. He was talking about the casino opening.
I didn’t want to believe it, but something inside me knew it was true. The name he’d dropped, the so-called third party he was using, and waiting to leave them in the wind. The name sounded so familiar.
Russian. The Russian mob. I had heard that name somewhere and the more I thought about it, the harder it was to remember where. How did I even know it was a Russian mob? Where had I heard that name from?
Trying not to overthink it and let it come to me, I realize the casino isn’t just a big business deal. From what I overheard that man say, there is more to it than being just a grand opening. He talked about weapons, but I couldn’t make out exactly what he meant, and now I have to figure out a way to be certain.
I clench my fists, staring out into the pool and the hills that stand tall miles away from the house, my mind spinning. Ciro knows about the mole, but from the looks of it, I don’t think he knows who it is yet. I want to tell him, but how can I? I’m certain of what I heard, but I need to confirm if it really is who I think it is. Plus, there’s the part where I’m still pissed at him. Angry. He couldn’t even look me in the eyes. How am I supposed to tell him this without even being sure of it? But it isn’t just that. I don’t want to get him involved any more than he already is. He has plans to finalize and prepare for, and maybe he might already be close to finding who the mole is. There may not be a need to bring up my assumptions.
Plus, I could just tell Carmela. She could help. I’m certain she would be down for some investigating and she would definitely help me make sense of it all.
I pick up my phone and send a quick test to Izzy, asking how she’s been and if she’s talked to Mom and Dad lately. After the random formalities, I send her the name of the Russian mob, asking if the name rings a bell. If I can’t remember, Izzy most definitely will.
I’m going to find a way to figure this out, help in any way I can. Ciro has done so much for me and all I do is say thank you and get into more trouble. I will do this for him and also show him that he doesn’t have to always babysit me. I don’t care if I have to dig through shadows to find the answers, I’m going to find them. I will find out who is behind this, what the hell is going on with this casino, and find a way to keep whatever harm is coming to Ciro at bay.
I notice Carmela walking back towards me, her jet-black hair dancing in the wind as she comes to sit beside me.
“I’m sorry you have to put up with that dickhead all the time,” she says with a smile, consoling me. I don’t know if I need her consolation or just to see him again.
Pushing that question aside, I know I have to tell her now. We need to figure something out and make sense of it.
“It’s okay, but I need to ask you something,” I say, looking around.
“Okay? Why did you whisper and go into spy mode?” she chuckles with an arched brow.
“You’ll know soon enough. Come on, let’s go to your room,” I say, getting up and dragging her away, leaving Pietro and his girlfriend in the pool, laughing and making out. Those two need more than a room, I think a cave would be best for them at this point.
“Vee, what’s going on?” Carmela asks as I close her door behind me.
I turn to her and take a deep breath. There is no going back once I tell her, and I need to be ready.
“What do you say about sharing our first sister-in-law secret?” I ask, hands in the air, opened and waiting for her answer to drop into my palms.
Silence.
“What kind? Spill when you’re in trouble or take to my grave type?” she asks, hands settled on her hips.
This woman!
“Spill when I’m in trouble. Take to your grave if I’m not in trouble,” I reply, waiting again for her to answer.
“I’m down!” she replies, pulling me to her bed and sitting us down.
It’s time to offload it all!
We sit comfortably on Carmela’s bed, the room feeling too unfamiliar, making me realize I don’t spend much time in here, though I doubt she does either. She’s barely at home and when she is, she’s usually half naked by the pool.
I pick at the blanket between us, unsure where to start. While Carmela waits, her eyes stay fixed on mine. She is good at that, holding a person’s gaze until they feel like spilling every secret. Right now, the pressure is building inside me, and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep it in. No gaze scares Carmela. Nothing in your eyes would make her back down, and this is one of those times.
I take a deep, shaky breath, finally starting, knowing now that there is no backing out once I spill everything.
“There’s something I didn’t tell you or Ciro about the kidnapping.” My voice wavers, but once I start, I can’t stop.
She nods, nudging me to continue, so I do just that.
“While I was there, I overheard . . . things. Voices. It sounded like they were making a plan of some sort. But what stood out was this one man. I didn’t see his face ‘cause he was in the other room or outside my door?” I ask rhetorically, realizing I was too out of it to realize which it was at the time.
“I don’t know which exactly, but I recognized his voice, at least I think I do, especially his laugh. Cam, I know I’ve heard that laugh somewhere, I’m not just sure if it’s who I think it is,” I continue, trying my best to keep remembering.
“He mentioned Ciro was looking for a mole? And how Ciro was close to finding him.”
Carmela’s expression sharpens, the casual light in her eyes replaced by something harder. She doesn’t interrupt, letting me pour it all out, just listening keenly to the details of how he spoke, the words he chose, and even the way he talked about “working” with other families and how he planned to double-cross some third party. Every detail felt like a weight pressing down on me, and by the time I finished, my hands were clenched into fists.
“I know only one man with a laugh like that,” Carmela says, but doesn’t elaborate. I can tell we’re likely thinking it’s the same person, but I can’t even say his name until she confirms it.
“I know the third party he spoke of is a Russian name, one I know, I just can’t place my finger on it. I asked Izzy though, so hopefully she has some news. I know for a fact that the person I heard is the mole Ciro is looking for, and he’s stuck in the middle of three powerful people and trying to pull the strings.” I take a deep breath, trying to make sure everything I’m saying is making more sense than it is in my head.
“And it has something to do with the casino opening. I don’t know if he wants to sabotage it or stop it from happening, I couldn’t make out that part. He just talked about it a lot,” I add.
Silence stretches between us. Carmela’s gaze drops to my hands, then lifts back to my face. Finally, she speaks, her tone stern and serious.
“So . . . what is the plan?” she asks with a slight shrug, like all I just said doesn’t even feel heavy on her shoulders like it does mine.
I blink, taken aback. “The . . . plan?”
“Yeah.” She leans forward, the gleam of excitement in her eyes impossible to miss.
“You didn’t come here just to unload this on me. You’re planning something. You want to find out if it’s really him, don’t you?” she asks, almost smiling.
“I mean, yes,” I stammer, caught off guard by her directness. “But, isn’t this dangerous? Doing whatever it is we’ll do without telling Ciro?”
Carmela’s smile is slow to grow, almost feral. Why in the world does this excite her?
“And what? Have them swoop in and lock you up somewhere ‘safe’? Please, Ciro’s as likely to lock you in a room for the next week as he is to listen to you. Besides,” she shrugs, “we don’t even know if this guy’s really involved.”
I chew my lip, a knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach. “So, you’re saying . . .?”
I know exactly what she’s saying! Heck, it was my plan in the first place. I just didn’t realize how different she is from Ciro. She reminds me of that everyday.
“I’m saying we go ourselves, find out if it’s really him.” She smirks, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Tomorrow, I’ll take you to his office. You see him, you hear his voice, get that confirmation you need. If it’s him, we’ll figure out what to do next.”
For a second I hesitate as her words sink in.
“And you’re really willing to do this with me? I mean, what if this backfires?” I chuckle lightly, knowing deep down, it definitely will.
“Vida,” she replies, her voice soft but intense, “if I let you do this alone, what kind of sister would I be? Besides, I live for this kind of chaos.”
She tilts her head, flashing me a wry smile. “And let’s be honest, you’re not exactly going to sit back and wait, are you?”
Despite my anxiety, a small smile spreads on my lips. She knows me too well. “No . . . I guess not. But if anything goes wrong . . .”
She cuts me off with a laugh, already dismissing my concern, her grin turning wicked. “Don’t worry about it. If my dear brother finds out, I’m certain he won’t kill you. But when he kills me, though, you can have all my clothes.”
I can’t help but let the burst of laughter escape me. “You’re ridiculous. There will be no killing.”
“Maybe. But I’m ridiculous and brave, and that’s exactly what you need right now.” She pauses, her expression turning serious. “Just tell me one thing: what are you planning to do if it turns out to be him?”
I swallow hard, feeling the weight of her question settle in my chest.
“I . . . I don’t know yet. But if he’s really behind this, if he’s playing Ciro for a fool, I’m going to find a way to stop him. Ciro has worked hard on all of this. I won’t let some silly man cross him like that,” I reply with determination, knowing I will do anything to keep Ciro away from all of this.
Carmela’s grin widens. “That’s what I like to hear. Tomorrow, we’ll figure it out. And if it’s him . . . well, we’ll get creative.”
“Sounds perfect,” I agree, letting out a sigh of relief.
“For someone who fights a lot with my brother, you sure are taking care of him,” she adds, making my head turn towards her.
“What? I’m not . . .”
“Yes, yes, I’m well aware. Don’t sweat it, it’s mutual. He dislikes your guts, but he almost took everyone’s heads off when we were looking for you,” she laughs.
I can’t tell how that statement makes me feel. Happy, that he almost took peoples heads off for me? Or embarrassed at the fact that everyone knows he dislikes my guts? I shoot her a weak smile, telling myself not to dwell on irrelevant things right now.
I’m happy I told someone and even happier that that someone is Carmela. I know tomorrow will put things in motion, so I decide to sleep on it and know the next plan from here. I need to check in with Izzy again. I have a feeling the information I’m looking for is something we’ve heard from one of Dad’s many talks on mobs and mafias. I just need to be sure first.