Chapter 25
Alessandro
Dante pushes the last of the bodies into the incinerator.
Hopefully, this is it. This was the second round of culling a handful of soldiers and capos who were dissatisfied with the shift in management.
Gio overheard whispers and then hacked one of their phones, finding a conversation with plans to kill me.
Some of the names were concealed—they must have been using burner phones. But, luckily, I have Dante at my disposal to torture out that information to get the complete list of those who were planning to betray me.
I clap my hand on Dante’s shoulder. “Thank you.” Then I turn to Sal. “A word?”
“Of course.”
I gesture my hand forward towards the door that leads to the basement staircase, guiding us out of the dungeon.
Once we’re far enough away from Dante—I trust him to torture, but I don’t know if I’ll ever trust him completely considering his personality deficiencies—I say to Sal, “Don’t sugarcoat it. How fucked am I?”
“Regarding?”
“This was our second round of having to murder soldiers and a capo who were planning to kill me. What if that never stops?”
“Well, it’s early yet. And if it makes you feel better, Marco’s transition was less smooth. Many, many died. Some disloyal, some not.”
That makes me feel better.
He continues, “In my opinion, that was likely the last of them. Anyone who is unhappy will feel less optimistic about overthrowing you and simply leave instead of trying to plot anything.”
“Good.” My phone vibrates, and I pull it out. It’s Sofia’s grandfather.
“That, on the other hand,” Sal nods at my phone. “You are truly fucked, my friend.”
He knows about the package that Dante sent over and the fact that me and Sofia are playing house together and finally getting along.
Everything about work has been hectic and stressful.
And despite my efforts, I still haven’t been able to smooth things over with Elena.
But when I come home to Sofia? All of that stress goes away.
I know things aren’t perfect, and I’m still waiting for the floor to drop and for this relationship to come crumbling down.
But right now, anytime I’m near her, I can’t wipe the smile off my face.
So, it really sucks that her family is thinking that I’m torturing her. Sure, I can put them on a video call and show them that I haven’t maimed her. But they aren’t going to believe that I’m not holding her here as a prisoner anymore. If I did, they would demand she come home.
And I won’t allow it.
So, in a way, she is still my prisoner…
“Have you talked to them since they received it?”
“No.”
“It’s not good to run from things—”
“I know!” I snap, then force myself to calm down. “Sorry, I don’t have the capacity to deal with her family at the moment. I just want to spend time with Sofia and see where things go. Maybe she’ll start annoying me in the next couple of weeks and I’ll want to send her home, anyway.”
With how I’m feeling about her, I doubt it.
“I don’t envy you. And I don’t have any advice to give. But you’re doing something right. She has the ability to walk out of the castle and hasn’t.”
He has a point. Kind of. She thinks she has the ability to run away, but I let the guards know to capture her if she leaves.
“I have a suggestion, but it’s not relevant to fixing the drama with her family, and you aren’t going to like it.”
I chuckle. “For some reason, I’m tempted to say no without even hearing the idea first.”
He smirks as we continue walking in the dim hallways.
“Plan a party. Or a trip. I know you despise small talk, but you’ve lacked visibility after taking on your new role. And this will be a way to solidify your… dynamic shift with Sofia. It’s important they get the memo that she is to be treated like a queen.”
He’s right. And he’s also correct that my impulse is to say no. I hate parties. But a trip? We can take one of the yachts out. I can spend time with people in short bursts and then retire to my cabin.
“I’ll consider it.”
We part ways, and I head over to my wing—it’s starting to finally feel like a home to me rather than Marco’s place.
It’s not just the change in decor from a taxidermy and cigar-smelling hellscape to a professionally furnished home.
Having Sofia around has something to do with it.
Having someone to wake up next to, to come home to.
It’s the highlight of my day, and that only makes me feel guilty about how I acted early on in our marriage.
I pass through the barracks before walking past the hospital. I expect a mundane walk back, but Elena exits Vincenzo’s hospital room, nearly bumping into me.
“Hey,” I say. “How are you?”
I’m not terribly surprised to find her here after I looked through that scrapbook.
I never talked to her about that: how it seems like she got along with Vincenzo and Marco more than she was letting on with me.
I suck at bringing sensitive things like that up.
But right now seems like the perfect time to squash this awkwardness between us.
“Hi.” She brushes her hair behind her shoulder.
I nod towards Vincenzo’s bed. “I’m sorry about what happened. I realize that I never checked in on you after he got shot.”
“Thanks.” She says that as if it were a question, her brow furrowing.
“Was that why you weren’t acting like yourself after the wedding?”
“No,” she answers quickly and then looks down at the ground. “I…”
“It’s okay. I found a scrapbook in Marco’s office. It had pictures of the three of you in it, looking happy. I suppose I was too self-centered to realize that you might have thought of Vincenzo as much of a brother as me.”
“I don’t think of him like that.” She shakes her head. “You’re my only brother. But… we did get along. And I miss him.” Her jaw is set, and she looks away from me, tears forming in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat, and look towards Vincenzo’s room. “Any news on his condition?”
She shrugs. “His finger was twitching a few days ago. Doc said not to get my hopes up, though.”
Fuck. I force a smile. After killing Marco, my initial impulse was to immediately pull the plug.
But having Elio’s respect is too important.
If he turned on me, a lot of others would as well.
So, I put him in charge of Vincenzo’s health decisions.
I’ve been hanging on to the hope that Vincenzo dies naturally soon.
Now, those feelings are complicated. I don’t want to see Elena become even more depressed.
We start walking towards our wing of the castle and away from the beeping machines.
“How’s Sofia?” Elena asks. “Seems like you two are getting along.”
“We are.” As usual, when the Sofia topic comes up, I feel a wave of excitement but also nervousness. I’m sure Elena can see that clearly on my face because she smirks.
“I’m happy for you.”
“Yeah, well. Just give it time. I’m sure it’ll all go to hell soon enough.”
And I’m dreading that day.
“You are so pessimistic. Don’t you ever get exhausted?”
“It’s the only reason that I’m alive. Always assume the worst will happen, then you’re never unprepared. Optimists are fucking idiots.”
She laughs, and we continue talking on our way home. It feels like old times. Maybe this wall she had up is finally coming down, and we can get back to normal.