Chapter 15 – Gaspare
The past has a way of bleeding into the present, no matter how tightly you try to stitch it closed.
Speaking with Almeria made me realize my feelings weren’t displaced. I wasn’t pouring water on a rock.
But how could she look at me and allow her feelings take charge knowing I indirectly caused her one of the most painful and heartbreaking experiences of her life?
And that’s why I’ve decided to get to the bottom of this once and for all.
I have my suspects. Someone from the Lombardi syndicate must top the chart. It has to be why they’ve been causing her to run for years. They probably thought hurting her would hit the Spadafora family hard, but they thought wrong.
If the possibility of Almeria and I staying together is hinged on bringing her the head of her abuser, I’ll be her knight. Redeem myself in her sights and chart a new guilt free course for the both of us.
I sit in my private office, the door locked, the blinds drawn. The lamp on my desk throws long shadows across the room, making the files scattered in front of me look like graves.
Each paper.
Each photograph.
Each testimony.
All of them are ghosts I thought I buried a long time ago.
I can still hear Almeria’s voice—soft, broken—when she told me about the night she disappeared. About how she’d been left alone. About the assault that ruined her innocence and nearly destroyed her life.
The guilt claws at my throat like a living thing.
I should never have dragged her to that alley. I should have let her be with her crush.
And if I’m going to call myself her husband now—if I’m going to be the man she trusts again—I need to set it right.
I owe her blood.
And I intend to collect it.
The first thing I do is peruse the old records and match them with what I recovered from the warehouse the day we rescued Luca.
Sancia brings more files in on my command, a grim set to her mouth.
“This is everything we have on the night Almeria vanished,” she says, dropping a thick file on my desk. “And a few reports that never officially made it into the books.”
I flip through the documents, my gut twisting.
I haven’t found anything noteworthy in the files from the warehouse. But there was a raid at the Colosimo’s as well that same night. So we have records of what went down that day.
I don’t want to believe someone from the Colosimo syndicate would be that cruel. But as I flip through page after page, I start to worry that perhaps the perpetrator had been right under my nose all this while.
I see familiar names. Men who are dead now. Some who switched sides. A few who disappeared without a trace.
But one name stands out even then.
Fernando Stark.
My right-hand man and confidant for years. Stark was literally my hammer and my shadow. He went everywhere I went back then, even when I told him to stay behind.
And somehow, he was always needed. He’d proved himself useful to me during his time to me. I still remember when he said he was leaving the city. His mother was sick and he was her only surviving family.
I’d expected him back but he’d vanished. That was barely a year ago.
Memory takes me down a path. The night of the raid, after everywhere had calmed down, he’d come home late into the night. Father had suspected he was on the raiders’ team because he wasn’t present during the raid.
And that’s when I remembered that he’d followed me to the Spadafora’s. But I thought he’d left after figuring out that I was being mean to a girl who only had a crush and was of no serious threat to me or the syndicate.
When I asked him in private later that night, if he’d truly been with the raiders, he’d assured me that the only place he was at was cleaning up my messes.
And I’d believed him.
Why wouldn’t I?
He’d been loyal. Brutal when needed. Efficient.
But now… with Almeria’s broken voice still in my ears, I realize something I should have seen all along:
Loyalty is a performance in this world.
And betrayal wears a familiar face.
Flashbacks of that night batter me as I study the reports.
Almeria—sweet, fierce Almeria—standing in the alley, tears streaming down her face. Her hands clutching at me. Begging me not to leave.
Me—angry, humiliated—shoving her away. Accusing her of being a pawn.
Her small frame shrinking into the shadows as I turned my back on her.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
The shame is corrosive.
When I open them again, I see something else in the files.
A coded journal entry—one of Stark’s old habit logs. He used to keep them meticulously, recording movements and assignments for our inner circle, encrypted in a shorthand only a few of us knew how to read.
Father had confiscated it that night. I realize now that he’d never gotten it back.
I decode it slowly.
One entry catches my breath:
“Diversion successful. Bait isolated. Target left unattended. No further surveillance.”
My stomach drops.
Bait.
Isolated.
No further surveillance.
It’s dated the exact night of the raid. The night I dragged Almeria to the alley.
The night I abandoned her and left her to be assaulted.
My fingers curl into fists on the desk.
Stark is the monster. And from the looks of things, he’d set me up to get Almeria to where he wanted her to be.
That explained how I found and knew about her diary in the first place.
The rage burns hotter with every breath I take.
I can feel it vibrating under my skin, tightening my muscles, blackening the edges of my vision.
I need confirmation.
Something more than coded words and suspicion.
I need proof.
I call Enzo.
He picks up on the first ring. “Yeah, boss?”
“Get me eyes on every survivor of the last raid that happened within our syndicate. Apart from Stark.”
“Stark? What’s he got to do with...” Enzo starts to ask, confusion evident in his tone.
“I don’t care if they’re retired, relocated, or rotting in a grave somewhere. If they’re breathing, I want them found.”
He doesn’t ask any more questions. He never does when my voice sounds like this.
“Getting started on it. I’ll have a list within the hour.”
I hang up and lean back in the chair, my mind spinning.
If Stark really did this… if he orchestrated it, lured her into that alley, stripped her of her safety, her dignity, and walked away—
Then everything I thought I knew about loyalty is a fucking lie.
Two hours later, Enzo brings several names.
One stands out.
Carlo Feretti.
He used to be a low-level enforcer. Quiet. Not important enough to kill, not valuable enough to protect. He was there that night—assigned to perimeter security, stationed two streets over.
I recall he was also Stark’s kin and I’d seen them both hanging out outside work a couple of times.
If he was mostly on perimeter security, that explains why Stark was able to know I was out and about every time I didn’t tell him. It’s all making sense now.
“He’s working a dock crew now,” Enzo says. “Cash under the table. Barely keeping afloat.”
I nod grimly. “Bring him.”
A few hours later, Carlo is sitting in front of me, trembling.
He knows better than to lie.
Especially when he sees the look in my eyes.
I don’t bother with pleasantries.
“You were there the night of the raid, true?”
He swallows hard. “Yeah.”
“You covered for Stark. Said he was present during the raid until Father watched the tapes. He told you to lie for him, didn’t he?”
“I don’t want any trouble...”
“Then you better start talking fast,” I snap. “If you remember properly, causing trouble is kind of like a hobby for me.”
He shifts, sweaty hands wringing each other in his lap.
“Yes, Stark asked me to cover for him if he was needed,” Carlo confesses. “But he didn’t know there was going to be a raid...”
“Where did he say he was going to be at for so long that he’d needed you to cover?”
Carlo hesitates and then lets out a sigh as if weighing his options and deciding his life is more important than still covering Stark’s ass years later.
“He’d...He said he was following you, because you were gonna see the Spadafora princess.”
Anger runs through my veins, boiling my blood.
“Is that what he called her?”
Carlo nods.
“And did he say anything else? Why he felt the need to follow me to see her?”
“He said he knew you’d be too weak to teach her a lesson she’d never forget,” Carlo rattles on. “Said you’d even fall for her instead of warning her and he was tagging along to make sure you didn’t fall out of line.”
“You seem to remember these details so well.”
Carlo exhales a trembling breath.
“When news broke out that the girl had disappeared, I worried that he’d killed her,” he admits. “I know we were at odds with the family, but I’d seen the lady around back then. She didn’t seem like much of a threat.”
Even Carlo had realized that, but I didn’t.
I suck my teeth at the fact that this just hit me in the face and nod.
“So you don’t know what Stark did to her, eh?”
“Hearing you’re married to her now, I can tell he didn’t kill her at least.” Carlo shrugs, looking away.
I narrow my eyes at him, watching his movements. They’re not fearful. No. Carlo is nervous. That’s enough to tell me he knows more than he’s letting on.
I put a hand under his chin and turn his face to me.
“Carlo, I’m going to ask you one last time – what did Stark say he was going to do to her?”
“I’ve told you everything...”
A quick punch to his face jades him and when he spits out blood and starts to cough, I know he’ll talk some more.
“I swear, I wasn’t in on the plan!” he pleads.
“Then convince me of that,” I state, wiping my bloody knuckles.
“He said he was gonna rough her up. Show her what a dick could do and make her never look at a man again the way she looked at you then,” he blurts out. “And if she hadn’t run away and the truth about what he did was uncovered, he was gonna say it was you because no one except me knew he’d been with you that night. The raid and she running away complicated the plan.”
The world goes still.
The betrayal sinks in like a dagger.
Stark. My right hand. My most trusted.
He didn’t just fail me.
He destroyed her.
And I let him.
I let him stay at my side all these years, blind to the rot festering just beneath the surface.
All those years I was hunting Almeria down, desperate to apologize after finding out she was alive, he was with me too. Looking for her as well. Luca is his son after all.
I know now why he left me a year ago. My search had been unsuccessful and he was realizing hanging around was futile.
I dismiss Carlo with a wave. He scrambles out like his life depends on it.
I sit there for a long moment, breathing hard, trying to control the murderous rage bubbling up inside me.
It doesn’t work.
Nothing can fix this.
Only blood will.
The room feels too small for the fury roaring inside me.
I pace, jaw clenched so tight it aches, hands fisting and unfisting at my sides.
I want to put my fist through the wall. Through the window. Through Stark’s fucking face.
But rage without control is weakness.
And I refuse to be weak when it comes to Almeria.
She trusted me once.
I shattered it.
Now she’s trusting me again, piece by fragile piece.
I won’t fail her twice.
When I finally still, it’s with a purpose sharp enough to cut.
I call Sancia and Enzo back into my office.
They step inside without hesitation, sensing the shift in the air.
Sancia glances at the still-open files, her expression darkening. “You found something.”
“I found enough.”
Enzo folds his arms, his mouth a hard line. “Stark is the culprit?”
I nod once.
“That son of a bitch. That’s why he ran off,” Sancia mutters. “You want us to bring him in?”
I look up at her.
“We’ll have to find him first.”
She smirks. “Already did. You, more than anyone, know no one can leave the syndicate without reason and expect to stay hidden forever. He’s riding with a bunch of fugitives these days. He’s made himself their little Don because he’s got access to weapons they can use to carry out small robberies and shit.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Enzo scoffs.
“So, do we bring him in?” Sancia asks again.
“No,” I shake my head. My voice is ice. “Not yet.”
They wait in silence.
I walk around the desk, resting my hands on its edge, letting the weight of my decision settle over me.
“He brutally assaulted Almeria, stole her innocence, and was going to pin it on me if shit got out. The raid and the fact that Almeria herself disappeared foiled his plans. He’s going to pay for even thinking he could smear my name like that.”
We mafia men are heartless, but we draw our boundaries firmly at women and children. No matter which syndicate they belong to, they are not to be hurt.
“When I move,” I say, “it’ll be public. It’ll be bloody. And everyone will know exactly why.”
Sancia smirks. “Good. I was getting bored.”
Enzo’s eyes sharpen. “You want it clean?”
“No.” I smile coldly. “I want it personal.”
I spend the next few days gathering information on Stark and what he’s been up to since he thought he disappeared. No one stays hidden from Sancia.
Quietly and careful, I plan my move.
It would be easy to kill him in the dark. To make him disappear.
But easy isn’t justice.
Easy wouldn’t show Almeria that she’s worth more than secrets and silent revenge.
She deserves to see him fall.
To see him beg.
To know that the man who broke her once can never touch her again.
That’s the only apology that matters now.
Before the end of the month, the plan is in motion.
Sancia will leak a whisper—an invitation Stark won't refuse.
Enzo will set the trap.
And me?
I’ll be waiting.
The only thing left to do now is tell Almeria the truth.
She deserves to hear it from me.
Not when the blood’s already spilled.
But before.
Before she can decide whether she still wants to stand beside me once she sees just how dark my love for her truly is.
I head back to the mansion.
The drive feels endless, the city lights blurring past me without meaning. My hands grip the steering wheel like it’s the only thing tethering me to the ground.
When I pull up outside the gates, two guards step aside immediately.
They can probably feel it—the rage, the purpose radiating off me like a second skin.
I don’t go to my own room.
I go straight to her.
Almeria’s in the sunroom, curled up with a book she’s probably not even reading. The way her body tenses the second she sees me tells me she feels it too—the storm rolling off me.
I stop just inside the doorway, giving us time to stare at each other for a long, weighted moment.
She sets the book down carefully.
“Gaspare,” she says quietly. “What happened?”
I step closer.
Every instinct in me screams to lie. To shield her. To spare her the ugliness.
But lies are what broke us before.
I won’t make that mistake again.
“I found him,” I say roughly. “The man responsible.”
Her eyes widen slightly.
“The man who…?” She trails off, unable to finish.
I nod. Her hands grip the edges of the chair tightly.
“Who was it?” she whispers. “Someone you know?”
I clench my fists at my sides.
“Stark.”
The name hangs between us like a death sentence.
She blinks, confusion knitting her brows. “The name doesn’t sound familiar to me.”
“He was my right hand man. Second in command. Disappeared a year ago without reason.”
Almeria swallows and looks away, but before she does, I can see the tears that have gathered in her eyes.
“He came with you that night, right?”
I nod, even though she’s not looking at me. I move closer until I’m standing in front of her, taking her trembling hands in mine.
“I’m sorry, Almeria,” I say, voice cracking. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it. Sorry I trusted him. Sorry I left you alone that night.”
Her eyes fill with tears she continues to blink back stubbornly.
“I’m going to make it right,” I promise her. “I swear it. I’m going to destroy him for what he did.”
A single tear escapes, sliding down her cheek.
I wipe it away with my thumb, my heart breaking at the trust she’s still willing to give me even now.
“No more lies,” I whisper. “No more shadows. I’m yours. Body and soul. Always.”
She closes her eyes, a shuddering breath escaping her lips.
And in that moment, I know—
This isn’t just about revenge anymore.
It’s about redemption.
It’s about building something stronger from the ruins.
It’s about love—the kind that burns hot enough to turn betrayal into ash.