27. Niko
CHAPTER 27
The time it takes to get to the monastery passes too slowly. Who’s to say that she’ll still be there when I arrive, that something hasn’t already gone terribly wrong. That she’s not intentionally trying to escape me. Mother Superior could be dead for all I know, so I won’t be waiting on another call, but I’m sickly sure Domalachego has something to do with this.
When I arrive at the entrance to the underground tunnel and find Carlo dead in his car, I’m further convinced he’s in with the Russians. Despite not trusting the shifty old priest who hasn’t answered his phone in days, it wouldn’t make sense to kill Carlo and leave him in the way of his favorite parking space.
The back seat where Gianna must have sat hangs open. I grab the driver’s door and check Carlo’s body. He’s cool but not cold. Maybe he’s been here an hour? Why kill him, though, if they were working together?
A lack of recent tracks shows no evidence of another vehicle in the area, and I wonder who came in and killed Carlo and then brought Gianna out on foot. They better not have hurt her. I’m so angry with her for leaving me, for putting herself in danger, but I’ll never forgive her if something permanent happens.
I pull Carlo’s corpse out of the car, tossing him just far enough out of the way so as not to run him over, and climb into the spot myself, leaning as far forward as possible to avoid his blood while I move the still running car.
I’m out a moment later. Rather than grabbing my own car or turning that one around, I run down the tunnel. The walls are so tight that it’s not worth the extra effort. I’m just as fast on foot. My phone is against my ear as I tell my men where I’m headed and to cover me up at the top of the hill and from behind.
Skipping the door to the chapel, I head up to the convent with my gun in hand. When I open the door and step out, several of the nuns shriek and gasp, immediately jumping back. Mother Superior stands with them.
“The chapel,” she grits. “The Russian’s got her in the chapel, and they took my phone.”
“Did they hurt any of you?”
“No. We’re fine,” she assures me as my phone rings. One of my men tells me they found cars still on the property with no one in them.
“God bless you for coming, Nikolai,” Mother Superior tells me in all seriousness. “Gianna looked afraid before the Russian took her.”
“Why did Carlo bring her here?”
“He was looking for DiMarco, but he’s missing.”
That’s all I need to know for now. I head back into the tunnel, and the men I find there are my own. I lead the charge with my gun out, finding the stairs into the chapel and climbing to the top. I’m expecting to have to break the door down, probably with a fair amount of help since it locks from the inside, but instead, I find the ancient wood standing open.
Domalachego and my wife sit beside each other on a pew, and they’re both staring like they are waiting for me. He’s three times her size, and I can see how easily he crushed his wives. Imagine him doing the same to Gianna if she married him. Her nearly black eyes beseech me, and her red lips form a pout. Did he make her a deal? Is she here because she thinks he can offer her better than me!
I step into the space, gun trained on him while my men swarm in behind me, but it’s just the two of them.
My wife and Domalachego. I don’t shoot him because she’s sitting right beside him. How many times can I splash her in blood before it’s too much and she doesn’t forgive me? I’m willing to risk once more because I won’t be letting her go either way.
He gives me a challenging smile that has the gun twitching in my hand, and I’m a hair's breadth from blowing him away when Gianna leaps off the bench, stepping between us.
“Niko, don’t!”
She puts up her hands, and I can barely see through the shaking rage, but I would never hurt her, not for anything. Her nervous smile trips me up, and my heart plummets even further knowing she left me. It takes me a minute to realize she’s saying something.
“Nikolai, put the gun down right now,” Gianna’s sharp and commanding voice cuts through the anger and panic blanking out my brain.
“You fucking left me, Gi!” I shout at her like I never have in my life, anger and betrayal I’ve never felt welling up inside me. “You fucking ran, and you’re sitting here with him.” I don’t put the gun down.
“I didn’t run. I miscalculated.”
“Are you sure you haven’t done that twice?” The soon-to-be-dead fuck has the audacity to ask my wife.
She turns back to him as she says, “My husband is the best and worst man I know, Fyodor. I haven’t miscalculated.”
That takes the slightest edge off my insanity. She’s still calling me her husband.
“What the fuck is going on, Gianna? Why did you leave the fucking house? Why did you go with Carlo? I saw the security footage. He didn’t make you leave!”
“You said I’m not a prisoner, Niko, and I needed to talk to Carlo. I left because he told me he had my parents’ bodies, but now that we’re here, I’m not sure he was ever telling the truth.”
“You would risk yourself for a pair of rotting corpses after everything!?” My voice rips through several octaves.
“That’s not what our problem is right now. Fyodor is not responsible for taking me from the house. It was…” She hesitates, and my hand shakes around the gun. “It was DiMarco. He and Carlo were working together. Fyodor here simply killed Carlo in a misguided attempt to lure out my father, but it gave us a chance to discuss things.” She presses her palms to my chest, and my heart beat gets even louder.
“What does that mean exactly?”
“Niko, Fyodor and I have come to an understanding, and I need you to listen,” she urges me, taking another step forward.
“You came to an understanding with a man who tried to buy you? A man who has killed his previous wives?—”
“I wouldn’t be so quick to indulge rumors if I were you, Mr. Bouchard. They tell some ugly ones about you and your brother as well.” There’s a threat in his tone, and while his gun is away, I’m sure he’s armed. He’s outmanned, though, and by his own choice.
“So you didn’t kill your wives?” I ask with mocking doubt.
“I killed my second wife when I caught her cheating on me with my young son. My first wife, whom I did not kill, would have insisted if she were still with us.” His eyes are darker than Gianna’s, and when they meet mine, I see more demons than I’d care to indulge.
Gianna audibly swallows, and Domalachego makes the sign of the cross, kissing his fingers and offering them to heaven.
“Like I said, we’ve come to an understanding,” Gianna says
“Why the fuck should I be amenable to any understanding?”
“Mr. Bouchard, after weeks of losing good men and an illuminating conversation with your wife, I’ve decided peace between us may be in the best interest of our businesses.”
The slight smile on his face drives me insane.
“You’ve never been amenable to that before,” I say, vibrating with tension.
He spreads his hands, palms up, miming generosity. “The old players were too greedy to allow anyone else a seat at their table. That’s not the case here.”
“What did you offer him, Gianna?” My gaze shifts back to my wife, and I lower the gun. The armed guards around us do not and won’t until I give the order.
“In exchange for free use of the ports?—”
“The ports?” I spit because they’re so damn valuable. They’re what Domalachego wanted all along, and I find I don’t want him to have what he wants in the end.
“He’ll be providing us a small ten percent fee each time he uses our enterprises, and in exchange for this rather lucrative deal, he’s willing to leave town and return to his previous territory. Leaving the Gemelli estate being of the utmost importance.” She narrows her eyes at him, and I wonder what he’s been using her childhood home for.
“Why would you agree to that?” I ask him.
“Your wife made some very valid points, and my interests have been called elsewhere as well. I have matters to deal with at home.”
Domalachego stands, sure now that I’m not going to kill him, that I’m going to see reason, maybe I’m going to see the inside of his skull. Gianna presses her body tight against mine, preventing me from grabbing my gun. Fury rips my stomach open before I remember there are fifteen guns trained on Domalachego without mine too.
“Fyodor would also like our assurance that we will be open to potential future business arrangements.” The sound of his name on her lips boils my blood.
“You’re fucking kidding, Gi.”
Domalachego puffs up as if he doesn’t like me disrespecting her. “Your wife is an impressive woman, Mr. Bouchard. I wouldn’t make a joke of her. You remind me of my first wife, Gianna.” The way he says her name in that accent makes me think maybe he still believes he has a chance to fuck my wife. White-hot jealousy tears me apart.
“What happened? What the hell is going on?”
“All it took was a little honesty and a little negotiation. The party that Fyodor is most aggrieved by is dead, and your issues with one another can be solved with a simple gesture of camaraderie.”
“A gesture of camaraderie?” I think my head is about to explode.
“Yes.”
“And what gesture does he want?”
“For you to right a very insulting wrong, Nikolai,” Domalachego calls me by my first name for the first time since he asked me why my mother chose that spelling. “I would like you to make a reservation for myself and my sons at your winery, and I would like you to tell everyone we are your esteemed guests.” The smile on his face tells me he knows exactly how much this will burn my ego, and that he wants it.
“And why would I do that?”
“A show of respect in exchange for your disrespect,” Gianna says.
“I wasn’t the only one to show it.”
Gianna places a kiss on my cheek.
“No, but Fyodor has already agreed to leave. It’s you, husband, who has yet to humble yourself, and I think a meal as a show of good faith is asking very little. Plus, we have the finest pork around, and the gentleman would most enjoy it.”
I want to disagree, fight, or kill someone because that’s what I came here to do. But I don’t. Instead, I say, “Very well,” and shake his fucking hand.
***
Later that night, I sit at the best table in the restaurant across from Domalachego and his sons with my wife beside me. We discuss the nuances of the deal she struck with him. I’m amenable to most of it, and the parts I take issue with aren’t really that big a deal for the concessions he’s making in leaving town.
That is how I come to break bread with a man who was once my enemy and is now my first true ally because my wife is fucking brilliant.