Chapter Fifthteen
"When she died, I was home, thinking if she's excited about the wedding." And she left.
Goddammit.
God-fucking-dammit.
Will we ever talk about Keres without fighting?
I didn't tell her about her sister's disappearance because I wanted to have proof in my hand. I wanted to catch the bastard who dared to challenge me.
Althea thinks I didn't tell her because I have the impression that she doesn't care about Keres.
I convinced myself that it's actually the opposite.
Althea cares too much.
I walk back to my office, letting Althea calm down.
I'll do worst if I go after her.
I see Makhim staring at the mini bar that faces my desk and I clear my voice.
"Please excuse my wife's manners." The word please being foreign for me. Makhim laughs and sets himself back on the chair.
"Still in the honeymoon phase I see." I don't laugh back. "I hope she's doing better."
I narrow my eyes at him. The way he said she makes my muscles tense.
"A little misunderstanding." I look into his eyes. I take the bottle of scotch that always sits on my desk and I pour into the shiny glass. "Why are you here, Makhim?" I let all the respect aside.
Makhim is a powerful man. His huge build helps him intimidate everyone and his lifeless eyes turn your body cold.
His hatred towards Hanibal is understandable, but unknown. Since I started to be initiated in the underworld, I could've seen the fire in Hanibal eyes when he looked at the Bratva leader.
It's still intact.
While Hanibal loves to show his anger and control over people, Makhim is a statue. His emotions are inexistent and he speaks only when needed.
Makhim can kill Hanibal without an effort, but something is holding him back. And it's not a war between these two mafias.
"Aren't you the Boss of Outfit?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.
"You know I'm not yet." I let myself lean on the chair.
Makhim takes out a thick cigar and a shiny silver lighter from his pocket. The lighter has two large initials on it that stand out.
O.M.
Makhim lets out a thick amount of smoke in the office and sets his eyes back on me.
"I heard about your ex-fiance's body." I take a sip of my drink, remaining unfazed.
"And who told you?"
"Let's say I'm good friends with The Empress." His
twisted smile makes me want to strangle him.
And the Empress.
I haven't heard anything from her since my wedding.
I'll help Arius track this motherfucker.
I haven't talk with either of them.
"How did your wife take the news?" I clench my hand around the glass and I wonder if it'll break.
"This is the second time you asked about my wife," I lean over the desk. "Ask again and you won't have a tongue anymore."
I don't care that I just threatened a Russian Boss. My wife is mine.
The jealousy in me is crazy, but if I can't have my wife in the fucked up ways that I want, no one will.
Makhim laughs and almost chokes with the smoke that is in his lung. He shakes his head and lets the cigar in the ashtray.
"I'm not interested in a twenty-three year old woman." Maybe not, but Althea is fucking gorgeous. People stop in the middle of the street when she's walking by.
And all I want to do is kill them.
"Remember me how your wife died." I know it's a risky move, but fuck it.
His eyes darken and his hands turn into fists.
After twenty-five years, his wife still has a spot on his brain.
"This courage of yours is good for the mafia, but too much and it will bring you death."
"Let me worry about that." I say.
"Sei testardo proprio come tuo padre." I freeze. This isn't Russian.
"You know Italian?" I say with a calm voice.
"How else will I be a step ahead of Hanibal?"
Makhim asks with a smirk.
Very interesting.
"Are you aware he's my father-in-law?" I have a feeling he doesn't care.
"Do you like him?"
With a smirk, I repeat my wife's words: "I'll like him better dead."
"Then you can put the pieces together." Yeah, I can.
He wants to kill Hanibal. That's why he came here.
I move my chair further back and open a drawer full of papers. I put aside thousands of papers to find the note given by Orion.
When I find it, I give it directly to Malkim.
"What does this mean?" Makhim, with a raised eyebrow, takes the note and read it.
His nostrils flare and he moves his head up quickly to look at me.
"Who said this?" He asks with a rough voice.
"Hanibal. To Althea." I say and my hands are turning white.
What does it say?
"That bastard."
"Makhim." I say with a low voice.
" 'You're into a castle full of men who would do anything to have this pretty scared face in their sheets.' " And then it's quiet.
I feel the room getting hotter. My hands are trembling.
"What?" But I don't need him to repeat. He looks at me and then put out the cigar.
"I want him dead, Keaton. He took something from me a long time ago, and he still thinks he got away with it." His wife. The words he said to her are living in my brain. How can a father say that to his own daughter?
I want Vincent.
Althea thinks he'll do something to Vincent. Is Hanibal the reason why Althea's walls are up?
One way to find out.
"Then let's kill him." I say and determination installs in my veins.
Makhim smirks and offers me his hand. I shake it and without another word, he's out of my office.
I walk toward the painting room and I see Ivan outside of it.
"Boss." He bows his head in greeting.
I put my hand on the doorknob but Ivan stops me.
"Mrs. Moretti said you are not allowed in." He said with a guarded tone. I raise my eyebrows at him and I shake my head.
Just today. I'll let her stay mad at me just today.
"Guard her, she's not leaving the house." Ivan nods and I walk away.
The following days are worse. Althea isn't talking to me at all, refusing to even look in my direction.
She's stubborn, I'll give her that.
I'm in the garage, changing the battery on my BMW when I hear someone whistle.
I turn my head slowly without hitting the hood of the car and see Allan's blond hair. "Did you change its color?" Allan asks as he stares at the car. "
"Yes, that's after I fixed the scratch." I side eye him and he smiles.
Before the wedding, Allan borrowed the BMW for a
meeting and scratched the hell out of it. He thought the car was going to fit between other two.
I couldn't repair it until this week.
"So, how is married life?" Allan asks while sitting in the driver seat.
Good question, Allan. Let's see.
The first days we spent as a married pair we made a deal to be a perfect public couple so that I would get my position as Boos and then we completely ignored each other, and then we fought because I didn't tell my lovely wife that her sister's body was stolen, and after days, we're still not talking.
"None of your business." I choose to say.
"Hmh," He puffs. "So she's right."
"Right about what?" I ask while I check the oil.
"You're ignoring each other." He thinks about something.
"You've been talking with her?" I ask and I can feel the vein on my forehead about to pop.
So she can talk with him just fine, but can't even come to dinner.
I'm so fucking jealous, what's wrong with me?
"On a daily basis." Allan smiles and I motion him to start the engine.
How bad will it hurt him if I hit him with this car?
When I hear the beautiful roar of the engine I disconnect the pleats from the battery.
"You know, the cute good morning messages, a random song she likes. Just the other day she sent me a photo from your living room at dawn. Ah, so beautiful" I move quickly until I'm right in front of him and I take his collar and bring him closer to my face.
My dirty hands are messing up his shirt and I know that will make him mad.
"Not the shirt, man." He whines. His British accent too prominent for my liking.
"You want to bring me to despair?" I say low. "You want to leave this place with a bruised face?" I ask him.
"Look, I'll send you the picture. I didn't know you wanted to see the photo." My grip on his collar tightens. I open my mouth to say a mouthful of words, but her presence stops me.
I feel her before she has the chance to speak. Before I move my eyes from Allan.
I can feel her eyes on me. For the first time in almost a week(six days and twelve hours) she looks at me with her big brown eyes.
"Keaton?" Her voice is soft, but raspy.
Fuck, I missed my name on her lips, in her voice.
But she's sweet.
My name always comes with venom or a curse. With her palms turned into fists.
What is she playing?
She comes near us and I let Allan down. I try to control my eyes from not checking her out.
"Your father is here, Keaton." Althea announces me. I go around the open car hood and check the oil.
I just checked the oil five minutes ago.
I'm fucking nervous. Like a damn teenager that feels his cock wet for the first time around a girl.
"Althea, gorgeous like always. But not like the photo you sent me yesterday." I put my left hand on my chest and with the right one I move it angrily in my beard.
I look at her and see that she's wearing a blue-ish summer dress that lets her arms out and a part of her stomach exposed. Her hair is in a low ponytail with a few strands left loose near her beautiful face.
I move my lower lip that is behind my hand and I try
to not explode.
"What photo?" She asks confused.
"Very funny. I always admired your sense of humor." Allan says while going for the door. He leaves without a second glare.
I close the car hood with a thud and Althea looks straight into my eyes. Her lips part and her hands are resting behind her.
"Your Dad came a few minutes to go. He said he wants to talk with you." I get a cloth and wipe my hands, walking towards her.
"Thank you." I say. Her pupils dilate and nods her head.
I move past her and open the door. Turning around, with a hand holding the door open, I call out.
"Come on. I don't trust you with my cars." Althea rolls her eyes at me.
She comes near me with big steps and she moves past me, murmuring dick as she leaves the garage.
We find my Dad in the kitchen and when he sees us, he lets out a warm smile.
"Thank you for bringing him, honey." Althea tries to smile, but Dad puts his hand on hers and assures her that it is not necessary.
"I'll let you two to talk." Althea walks past me but gives my hand a squeeze.
"Anything you have to say to me, you can say to my wife." I grab her waist and glue her to my side.
She puts her hands on mine and looks at me with a forced smile.
"Oh good, because it actually preoccupies both of you." We break the eye contact and we look at Dad with narrow eyes.
"What do you want?" Althea pinches my hand and I
tighten my hand on her hip.
Dad looks at us with a funny face and a raised eyebrow.
"Your Mom wants you to accompany us to dinner tomorrow evening. Your sister will be there too."
"And you needed to tell me that in person?" I ask him.
"Dio Mio, Keaton!" Althea says exasperated.
With a sigh, I nod my head.
"We'll be there." I murmur.
"Wonderful. I'll let your Mom know." And he leaves without a goodbye.
Sneaky old man.
Althea looks at me and moves out of my touch.
"Family dinner?" She asks like that word is foreign to her.
"Family dinner." I approve.