36. Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Five
Elise
I rarely venture outside of my home. Even growing up, my father kept me close to home at all times, only letting me leave for recitals. I’ve lived a sheltered existence from the moment I was born. And as I sit on the bench in the park, watching people go about their lives, I feel a sense of unease wash over me.
A mother and her daughter step in front of me, hand in hand. It makes me wonder about the night of my mother’s demise. I can’t even remember it happening. Were we hand in hand? Was she carrying me? Was she trying to escape because she knew what my father was planning?
I release an audible sob, wiping the stray tear that falls from my eyes. My father never spoke about my mother growing up, and now I know why. He never gave her a second thought. She was just another roadblock in the way of his plans that needed to be removed, just like I ended up being. Or would have been had Luca not developed a strange desire to protect me from my father’s plans.
I think back to his rant, my confusion deepening. His anger stemmed from my judgment. I laugh to myself. I can’t believe he called me selfish for wanting my brother to have a chance at a normal life.
In the end, we’re all messed up. And I was dumb enough to think I could somehow be excluded from it. But Luca is right. Nothing in my life was my choice. My marriage, hobbies, and even my “friends” were all chosen for me. My father mapped out everything meticulously, including using my brother.
I take a deep breath, leaning back against the bench. The sky is gray, and thunder rumbles in the distance.
If not for Luca, Enzo would never have been able to make this choice. Nor would I even be here to be angry. My life would have ended with others making choices for me. But just because he’s been protecting me doesn’t wash away the damage he’s done—the type of man he is. My hair, my ribs, my attempt: all of those were thanks to Luca. My husband, who was raised that way, was without a choice, just like I was.
I laugh aloud, tilting my head toward the sky. Luca is right, we’re both fucked up. We deserve one another. But does my resentment of what we are make me selfish?
No, it only makes me a hypocrite.
“Mrs. Pasquino.” I open my eyes to see the guard who drove me away hesitantly stepping next to me.
“Mr. Pasquino has requested we return to the estate,” he says gently.
I pull in a deep breath, looking back at the graying sky. The last thing I want to do now is face Luca, especially after yet another piece of my life has been revealed to be by his hand.
“Okay,” I murmur, standing.
I quietly follow the guard to the waiting car, the backseat feeling cold as we pull out of the parking lot to head back to the estate. Rain slowly begins to fall as we continue the quiet drive, pattering against the windshield. It helps fill the silence as well as the thoughts running rampant in my mind.
My eyes grow heavy as I keep my attention on the road. A car pulls up next to us as the lanes switch to two, passing us quickly. As it moves in front of us, it suddenly hits the brakes.
“What the hell?” the guard shouts, attempting to swerve around the car, but another car is behind us, smashing against the bumper.
“Shit!” He cries out as he tries to swerve, but the cars have us blocked in. I scream as another car comes up to the right of the car to block us in, but my guard slams on his brakes, twisting the steering wheel, and we miraculously break free.
“Someone’s targeting us!” He uses his free hand to press the earpiece, shouting into it and maneuvering away from the attackers. My heart slams against my chest as I grip the door handle to steady myself, trying to remain calm as my life hangs in his hands.
“This is Violi! We’re being attacked—I have her here in the backseat. We’re nearing the downtown district. I’m six miles south of the interstate—ah!”
Bullets fly across the windshield, and I scream in panic. The windshield doesn’t shatter; only circular patterns appear, and I realize the windshield is bulletproof.
“They’re bringing heat! I need help!”
The car is jerked hard to the right, and I am sent flying into the door as an array of honks sounds around us. Whoever is after us doesn’t care what happens to innocent bystanders. They’re out for blood and want me dead.
“Dammit!” My guard screams again as we are surrounded. Suddenly, the car swerves, and we are airborne. My stomach lurches as the car flips over several times, the seatbelt crushing my chest as we finally come to a halt in the ditch. My chest burns as I become aware of other injuries sustained in the crash, and I cough as pain radiates over me.
I grunt in pain as blood trickles from my head to my face. The sounds of shouting coming toward the car fill my senses, but I can’t make out what’s being said as my consciousness wanes. I pull in a ragged breath, saying a silent prayer that I’ll make it out of this, but something tells me I won’t.
It’s a struggle to remain conscious. I know I’ve been in and out of it a lot, as strangers have entered the room and left with only warbles to indicate their presence. But now, as I open my eyes, blinking away sleep, the strange room finally comes into focus.
It’s a small room, the floor carpeted but with no windows, so I don’t know what time of day it is. I try to sit up on the uncomfortable cot, flinching in pain. My body is sore from the wreck. Cuts and bruises remain on my arms, and I don’t have the strength to look at my legs. I slowly reach up, my fingers brushing over the thick gauze on my temple, and I notice the IV in my arm.
My mind shifts to the wreck, nausea washing over me as I recall the terror of us running for our lives. Whoever it was must not have wanted me dead, seeing as I’m still here. They must have mistaken me for someone else. Or possibly thought I was Luca instead.
The door to the room sounds, and a man enters.
I don’t know who he is as he takes a seat at the small table in the center of the room. He has a folder in his hand labeled “Pasquino” and a tray of food that he also places on the table. He quietly flips through the folder before shifting his attention to me.
“Hungry?” he asks, gesturing to the tray of food.
I narrow my gaze but don’t respond. He’s an older man, his hair graying slightly. And he’s dressed in a suit, meaning his job must be somewhat important, and he’s not some hired gun.
He scoffs, placing the file on the table to reveal a picture of me taken during a night out with Luca.
“Elise Trovoli. Now, Pasquino, since your marriage into the Pasquino family a little over a year ago. Twenty-three next month. No previous employment, no driver’s license, hell, not even a gym membership. School records are sealed, no credit cards, not even as an authorized user. Nothing. You’re a ghost. A fairytale we tell one another to make your husband seem more human,” he says.
I still don’t respond. This man is obviously an enemy.
“He kept you well away from the government eye. Quite honestly, we didn’t know you existed until the incident with your half-brother. Your entire statement was scratched from the record. The cop involved resigned the next day,” he says as he spreads more images on the table.
There are pictures and articles of Luca. I slowly stand from the bed, pulling the IV from my arm before making my way to the table. I plop down across from the man, ignoring the tantalizing smell of the food as I take in Luca’s pictures. The articles are accompanied by flattering pictures of him walking across an airport runway or shaking hands with a foreign leader.
“Before we get into the logistics of things, let me first apologize for the way things went with you and your driver. We thought you were your husband,” he says.
I lift my eyes, looking at him.
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” I ask.
My voice is a hoarse whisper.
“I’m Agent Jeffries. I work in a top-secret division of the US government, and for years we’ve kept the Pasquinos under careful watch, but with everything that’s been happening and the lack of stability within the family, we think it may be time to…change management,” he says.
“You mean kill my husband,” I say.
He gives me a tight smile but doesn’t confirm it.
“Men like your husband are smart. And if left unchecked for too long, it can become dangerous, even a threat to our own way of life. Your husband is beyond the minuscule crime bosses who run rampant through the streets. His level of importance spans even my level of clearance. And that’s a daunting fact to live with in my line of work,” he says.
“So what do you want from me?” I ask.
“We need a statement. And for you to testify against him in court,” he says.
I laugh, shoving his folder away.
“A statement? You do realize I would never make it to court. My husband is not someone to be messed with. But you already know that, which is why you tried to kill me thinking I was him,” I say.
“I’m sure he’s closing in on this place as we speak to get me back. You do realize he wouldn’t have let me leave if he didn’t know where he could find me, right?” I ask.
Agent Jeffries reaches into his pocket, pulling out the small implant Luca placed in me.
“We are well aware of the lengths he would go to keep you to himself. We had it removed and destroyed before you even left the car,” he says, smiling.
He’s proud of himself for doing the obvious.
“I’m not turning against my husband for you, Agent. You’re wasting your time,” I say firmly.
Not only would I never turn Luca in, but my brother is now a part of the family. I would never put their lives at risk.
“Your cousin was Arianna Anderson, correct?” he asks.
I don’t reveal my shock from him saying her name. I make sure I remain stoic as I answer.
“Yes,” I say.
“You know she’s the one who contacted us. She wanted to get you out of there safely. And she knew the only way was to get rid of your husband. All I want is to honor her last wish for you. We can offer you protection. And once we get him in custody, you won’t have to worry about him escaping ever again,” he says.
I laugh, looking up at the ceiling. There’s a camera in the corner, meaning even this man works for someone higher up. Someone who will probably watch this tape again for anything they can try to use against Luca.
“Did she also tell you to shoot my brother as well? For my sake?” I ask.
He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t have to. I know he’s lying about Ari’s wishes. By the time she recruited them, her anger was beyond her self-control. Her husband and entire family had been killed, and the last time she spoke to me, I wanted no part of it. She hated me to her core and everything that I represented. And while I still mourn for her life, I won’t forget that.
“I won’t help you,” I say.
His expression shifts as he tries to remain in control. He reaches for the folders on the desk, cleaning everything up before pushing the tray of food off the table.
“Then I’m afraid I have no use for you, Mrs. Pasquino.”
As he stands, the door on the far side of the room opens, and two men step in, rushing past Agent Jeffries to snatch me up and drag me from the room.