38. Julian
38
JULIAN
“THIS FAMILY MAKES ME WANT TO MURDER PEOPLE”
M y skin buzzes with an excitement I haven’t felt for… fuck—a long time. It was late last night when Andrea Capaldi rang Lana’s phone to tell her Barychev died, Misha Petrov’s location as his last words.
Daydreams of blood, retribution and violence flash through my open eyes as Lana, my brother Lisandru, and I fly over the Channel. We’re set to land in twenty minutes in a private airport North of West Hill, and I’m almost squirming in my seat. Logically, I know there won’t be much for me to do but strategise with everyone when we arrive, but hopefully, I can go on a hunt with Nico and drain my dark energy before the main event happens. I’ve never seen him at work but his reputation as the literal angel of Death in the UK precedes him, and I need the outlet.
I ignore my brother and my best friend, whispering sweet nothings to each other in their seats in front of me. In the past fifteen months since my husband was taken from me, I’ve had a lot of practice. Because these two assholes always have their tongues down each other’s throat, for fuck’s sake. Not caring that some of us have blue balls and don’t particularly enjoy their disgusting PDA.
“You two are gross, you know that?” I interject because I can’t help myself.
“Fuck you, Jules, we’re just talking about what’s next,” Lana retorts but the tip of her ears are turning red. Liar . Lisandru’s smirk confirms it, and I roll my eyes.
I’ve always been a bit of a shit-stirrer. It’s more fun to rile people up than to butter them up with what they want to hear. However, since I lost Igor, all my worst habits have become pure vice. The worst part is no one says shit because they pity me. They don’t know what to say to make me feel better.
They can’t, anyway.
Igor, my boyfriend since I turned eighteen, the only man I’ve ever loved, the one I married in secret almost two summers ago—and Lana’s bodyguard—is gone and nothing anyone says can change that. Worse part is, he knows I’m looking for him and is pushing me away, sending us the heads of any informer we send towards where he’s being sighted.
A head in a box. What a cliché. If he thinks that’s gonna deter me. I huff to myself at the thought. I don’t give a fuck how many men I send to their death if it means he’ll come back to me.
The seatbelt sign turns on in the cabin and we all click them in place, the descent making my ears pop. On the tarmac, Andrea and Giulia welcome us, Nico not far behind and looking more grim than he ever did before.
“What happened to you?” I probe with a frown.
“Fuck you,” he answers gruffly before turnings on his heels and disappearing inside his Aston Martin Valhalla.
“I thought you Italians were supposed to be warm and welcoming, Capaldi.”
My joke falls flat and I watch Andrea and Giulia exchange an uneasy look. They seem to be having a silent conversation and the longing that’s carving my heart out of my chest threatens to send me to my knees.
“Shut up, you little shit.” Giulia hugs me tight, reminding me of a time when Lana, her and I were inseparable, the three musketeers of Kalliste. Concern is etched on her beautiful face, the dark circles under her eyes so unlike her. Giulia’s always well rested and ready to take on the world. I don’t know what’s going on but even as self-centred as I am and focused on my goal, the heaviness surrounding the Capaldis is hard to miss.
“Come on, we have to act quickly,” Andrea says and we enter his sedan, before he drives us through snowy forest and country roads.
I whistle as we cross the threshold to Giulia and Andrea’s house. The rustic exterior is a damn lie because the interior is all warm wood and sharp furnitures, contrasting perfectly to give it a modern cottage atmosphere that perfectly balances luxury and cosiness.
“You didn’t lie when you said his home was made for cottage sluts like you,” I tell Giulia and Andrea growls behind me, not too happy with me calling his wife a slut. Her words, not mine, though. She laughs easily, a hand on her husband’s shoulder and he settles immediately. Can one interaction in this godforsaken family not end with the reminder that my husband is missing?
Jesus Christ .
We follow them towards what must be their office, the soft rug and dark wood panels on the wall giving the room an aura of importance. It’s very different from my utilitarian studio in the city centre of Sant Armellu, where everything is beige. The colourful throw pillows are at odds with the rest of the house but they scream ‘Giulia’ so much. They’ve made a perfect home. Something I won’t ever have again if we don’t annihilate Misha Petrov and his whole operation.
I clap my hands before rubbing them together. “So. When do we fuck Misha’s brains out?” I grimace. “Wrong choice of words. When do we kill the bastard?”
Andrea starts a lengthy explanation of how Misha’s been cooped up in Moscow, paranoid about an assassination attempt, not only from us but in his own ranks. He’s sent his most trusted advisors all throughout Europe to have the local Bratvas pledge allegiance to him, but it hasn’t been as well received as he thought. The Dobrev-Ventura alliance has helped with getting more support from the Russian-Italians in Italy, the U.K. and Croatia, but we’re still up against the rest of them. And it’s a fuck ton of them.
“Dobrev’s gonna marry the daughter of the French arm of the mafia so we can count them in as well,” Giulia says, and Nico scoffs to himself like he knows something we don’t. I ignore the grumpy asshole who looks like he could kill with only one look and address my best friend. Lana has always been my rock. I should say “our” rock because she holds the weight of our entire Empire on her shoulders and carries it with grace, too.
“Now is the time when you lay out your plan, sis’.” She hates it when I call her that and immediately clicks her tongue, which makes me grin even wider. We’re practically brother and sister with how close we grew up. We might not share blood, but we share everything else. Including custody of her idiot husband, who happens to be my half-brother.
Right now, he sits next to her, a silent vigilante ready to guard her. I know he still beats himself up for her ordeal last year. No one blames him but he’s been even more protective with Lana ever since.
“When are Dobrev and Ventura gonna be here?” Lana ignores me and asks Andrea.
“I haven’t called them yet. It’s up to you. As much as Petrov is bad for business and his organisation needs to be dismantled, this is personal for you.” He turns his whiskey eyes to mine. Damn, he’s intense. “Both of you.”
Before we can continue, a baby cries in the distance and Lana sits up straighter, her brow furrowing. We all turn to the noise, but Nico’s already leaving the room like his ass is on fire.
“What’s Ember doing here?” Lana asks Giulia, an edge to her voice that would breed fear in the heart of grown men. I know her too well. That’s her threatening voice. It’s cold and calculating. Her eyes have hardened and she follows after Nico.
The entire party moves towards the living room where a woman in a wheelchair holds a bottle out to Nico who takes it, before he sits down and feeds Ember. The woman’s dark bob and severe features contrasting with warm honey eyes is the portrait of Andrea. It isn’t hard to deduce who she is, then she introduces herself as Catalina Capaldi. I dip my head respectfully and shake her outstretched hand. “Ignore me,” she starts. “I’m sure you have more important business to tend to.”
“Giulia, what is this? Where is Marie?” Lana asks, more frantic this time.
“Marie isn’t here,” Nico says without looking up. His piercing eyes are set on Ember and he holds her tight to his chest.
“Where, Nico?” Lana repeats, her tone hostile but he ignores her, absorbed by his task.
The energy around the room swerves and changes to cold and unrecognisable. There’s nothing gentle and familial about the way Andrea stands next to his brother and mother, or how Giulia orients her body in front of them like she’s picking their side. I let my eyes move from them to Lana and Lisandru. Her fists are clenched and he’s holding her shoulders, but not in support, almost as if holding her back, his jaw tight, teeth grinding.
“Babe—” Giulia starts but Lana holds up a hand. These two are even closer than Lana and I have been, tied by blood and something uniquely theirs. They have a kinship, a bond that can never break. Yet, it’s like I watch in slow motion the moment a fissure appears.
“Don’t fucking lie to me, G.”
“Marie’s in rehab.”
My eyes flick back to Giulia with surprise. I never thought that’s a sentence I would hear.
“What? Since when?” Lana explodes, and fear takes hold because this little family reunion could go nuclear very quickly if Giulia doesn’t answer properly.
“Since last night,” she answers and has the good sense of looking stricken. “She needed help.”
“And you didn’t think to call me, then?” Lana yells and it startles Ember who starts to cry in Nico’s arms. He rocks her softly, murmuring words I can’t hear and kissing her little head. “I need to take care of my niece, and you need to tell me where she is.” Lana stampedes toward them but both Andrea and Giulia step in front of her. Lana recoils and gasps.
The fissure cracks wider in the silent room, only punctuated by the infant’s cries.
“What are you doing? If Marie is in rehab, Ember needs to be with her family. And I need to go see my sister.”
“She is with family, Lana,” Giulia says.
“You…”
“What? I don’t count? Marie came here after Lisa’s death and stayed, because she felt safe. How many times have you tried to call her?”
“Don’t you fucking dare say shit like this, G,” I tell her because I’ve had about enough of people trying to make Lana feel guilty for taking care of everyone around her and still coming short. That woman is holding an Empire by the strength of her teeth, a rock for her mother who cries herself to sleep every night grieving her dead daughter and a missing one, while doing everything in her power to make women feel safe everywhere and finding my husband so we can bring him back to us. All the while dealing with her own PTSD and nightmares. “Lana’s here for everyone and you fucking know it.”
“Oh yeah?” Giulia scoffs, then turns to Lana. “Did you know your sister was an alcoholic? Since she was sixteen?”
I shake my head. That can’t be right. Sweet Marie wouldn’t do that. She’s surrounded by family. Loved, cherished, protected. Lana’s mouth hangs agape. When my eyes collide with my brother’s, he shakes his head subtly and I take a step back, letting what needs to happen next be, without interfering.
“I know you’re dealing with a lot, babe. Trust me, I know. More than you realise.” Giulia’s voice wavers at that and I have to wonder what she’s been through to share that kind of kinship with Lana. She approaches and clasps Lana’s hands in hers. “But Marie wasn’t well. And she trusted me, Andrea and Nico to take care of Ember, whether you like it or not. I won’t let her down, now. I hope you understand.”
“No, I don’t fucking understand,” Lana exclaims, her ire pouring out of her. “First, my own sister hides the fact that her twin has cancer and might die. And she fucking did! And now, she’s an alcoholic and let my niece in the care of…”
Giulia doesn’t let her finish and I’m grateful for it, because she’s not thinking straight. Pain will make you say shit you regret. I don’t want that pain on her.
“Shut up, Lana. Don’t finish that fucking sentence. We’re her family. Just because she isn’t my sister in blood doesn’t mean I love her any less. And Ember, she’s not yours. She’s Marie’s, who’s an adult and trusted us to care for her.”
Lana’s shoulders deflate. Her throat bobs, unshed tears brimming under her eyelashes, and her head shakes with disbelief. “I need to see her,” she says but it comes out uncertain. I hate to see her like that.
“She can’t have visitors for the first three weeks,” Catalina says, diplomatic and caring. “And, Lana. I don’t know you, so you’ll excuse me for saying this. I’m not sure if you should be her first visitor when she can receive people for the first time. She’s been through a lot.”
My friend simply nods, head bowed in defeat. “Can I ask why you ?” I’m not sure if she’s asking Giulia but it’s Nico who answers.
“She’s safe with us. I’m hers,” he declares and the veil lifts. “And she’s mine.”
Lana nods again, a soft tip of her lips that doesn’t reach her eyes. “And Ember?”
“She’s mine, too,” Nico answers easily.
Lana’s lips purse and her chin wobble. Turning heels, she disappears the same way she came in. “I’ll talk to her,” Lisandru says before leaving with a dip of his head towards the Capaldi family.
I feel like an intruder and make my way out, but Giulia stops me with a hand on my forearm. “I’m sorry, Jules. I did what I think is best for Marie and Ember.”
“You’re a dick, you know,” I sigh.
“What?”
“I want to hate you right now. Take her side. But you have to be all chivalrous and selfless and shit. You piss me off, bitch.”
She threads her arms around my neck and I hold her to me, the hug settling the unease inside me. “Nico’s a good man. He almost died trying to save me”, she whispers in my ear.
I frown at that. “Save you from what?”
“That’s not important. They’re really good together. And he loves Ember.”
“Yeah, I can see that. He has the protective broody alpha act down,” I joke but it’s the truth. He’s not so different from Marie come to think of it. She’d much rather be sitting in silence than surrounded by the rowdy crowd we can be. They fit. “Lana’s gonna hate herself for not seeing Marie’s pain, you know that, right?”
Giulia sighs and I echo the sentiment. “It’s something they have to work on together. I protected her like she asked me to, Jules. I would have done the same for you. I did the same for Lana when she needed it.”
I nod and join Lana and Lisandru into the town car. As we drive in silence to our hotel in West Hill, I simply clasp Lana’s shoulders in a silent show of support. I don’t miss the way she swipes at her face and sniffs all the way through.