28. No one throws a Christmas dinner like Mammona
The Moretti-Bartoli Christmas dinner is a feast. The long wooden table accommodating the thirteen people gathered around has been filled the entire day with enough food to feed an army. The kitchen staff and Mammona, which I learn just means “grandma”, have prepared the best food I’ve ever eaten. By the end of the evening, only a little is left, and the fourteenth place setting is untouched.
Julian Bartoli didn’t grace us with his presence.
Giulia speaks animatedly all night with Lana. Her laugh booming at the table is the most beautiful sound I hear all night.
Her other cousins are full of life and curious vicious little things who don’t let up until I give a retelling of our arranged marriage, and how I seduced my pretty wife into forgiving me for an arrangement she didn’t want.
Lisa finds the story delightful, but Marie frowns the whole time. They’re barely twenty and I know Lana won’t marry them off to advance political games with the other European families. But at some point, they’ll have to realise they are assets to their family and can take a more prominent role.
After dinner, we retire to Pietro’s office with Giulia, Lana, Pierce, and Nico. As much as the patriarchs are involved in the family business, this is more personal.
“Cugino, I need your help.”
The bastard smiles slyly. “Finally, I can kick one favour out of my fucking list.”
“Considering the number of favours I do for you on the daily, this one should come for free.”
“Nothing is free,” Giulia, Lana and Pierce all exclaim at the same time.
“E tu, Brutu?” I tell my wife because, fucking traitor.
The atmosphere is light between all of us. For the first time, I let myself feel what it’s like to have a big family. I don’t hate it as much as I thought I would. Pierce has been cordial, Lana treats me like a friend and my beautiful warrior wife has been smiling so much she lights up the entire place. And Nico hasn’t given me any sign to worry about a meltdown. He’s been quiet as usual, and the Moretti family has accepted it, leaving him to interact when he wants.
Giulia and I explain the situation with Addams to Lana and Pierce. The two murder investigations, the charges against me then dropped, Luc and Addams knowing each other. We share all the details when a slurred voice I don’t know comes from behind us.
“Luc and your opponent were both working for Misha Petrov.”
I immediately have my gun out and trained on the place where the voice comes from, a designer leather seat turned to the window. My hackles rose at the name of the boogeyman.
“Fucking Hell, Jules, how long have you been lurking?” Lana exclaims.
“I came for Mammona’s ravioli.” He stands up and shrugs.
“You could have said ‘hi’, asshole,” Giulia complains.
Her arms are folded over her chest and despite the amused tone she tries to infuse to her voice, I recognise the hurt she hides. Julian, Lana and Giulia were the three Moretti musketeers. Now, with Igor gone and Lana saved in his place, the vestiges of their friendship lie in tatters at our feet.
“Hi.”
Julian makes his way to Giulia and bumps his hip against the chair on his way.
“Fucking hell,” Pierce swears under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Just because Misha’s responsible for Igor’s disappearance doesn’t mean he’s responsible for every single bad thing happening everywhere else,” Pierce says calmly, as if they’ve had that talk many times before.
“Oh, but he does. Do you think just because Luc is dead, Misha’s traffic ring in the UK was dismantled? I’ve been looking for who would be his new supplier for four months. You just delivered it.” He laughs, an unhinged sound coming from a mouth twisted with anger. “Your guy? Addams? He’s in kahoots with Misha,” he says, singing the end of Misha’s name like it’s a fucking joke. He sobers long enough to issue a warning. “Better call whoever you love. If Misha’s already killing people you fucked, no one’s safe.”
Julian takes the crystal bottle of alcohol set on the dresser and leaves. The atmosphere that lingers behind is noxious and silence settles, heavy and dark.
“Pierce, I need you to find Louis’s contact details. He might be in danger,” Giulia asks.
“And we need to locate someone who was in Addams’s employ and disappeared,” I finish.
Giulia and I might work well together, but my cousin Pierce knows his shit as well as we do around hacking and finding people. I’d rather put all resources into this than be prideful.
There will be no rest for me until I can finally find what Addams has planned. And Julian might be hurt and willing to put anything on Misha Petrov, but what he said makes sense. If Addams is involved with that man, shit got just a tad more complicated. Either way, he’s a dead man walking.
We’re about to retire for the night when Pierce clamps on a hand on my shoulder. “Got a minute, cugino?”
When I turn around to Giulia, she smiles softly. She and Lana have their arms wrapped up together like teenage girls ready to cause chaos, their eyes bright with mischief. “Go ahead. Lana and I will be down at Lady in White. Join us when you’re done.”
Nico inclines his head, ready to follow and protect her.
Lady in White, one of the infamous clubs that inspired Rouge. I can”t wait to check it out with my wife on my arm and see her brilliant mind at play in the decadence displayed there. They leave us in giggles and silence falls on my cousin and I.
It should be suffocating, but it isn’t. I don’t visualise making his life difficult or avenging the young boy I was. For the first time in years, I see him as a flawed man. I see him as the husband of my wife’s favourite person. It doesn’t erase the bullying, but for the first time, I might see the glimpse of the man he became.
“I wanted to talk to you,” he says, grabbing the back of his neck, visibly uncomfortable.
I take a seat in one of the comfortable chairs and wait, holding the smile that wants to take over my face. Watching him squirm is entertaining, to say the least.
“Aren’t you going to say something?”
“You said you need to talk, I’m listening.”
“God, you’re such a dick.”
“Right back at you.”
This time I can’t stop the smirk from spreading, making him chuckle.
“Okay. Here goes nothing. I wanted to apologise. For the way I treated you as a kid.”
“You’re gonna have to be specific, cugino, I’m not sure I remember well,” I taunt.
“How she fell for you is a mystery,” he mumbles while looking up to the sky as if a God will save him from me tormenting him.
So, my little wife’s been talking about me. Warmth spreads where my heart beats. The only thing that could make this moment better, knowing that she loves me, is if she said it herself. She hasn’t said the words back to me and though she doesn’t need to, her actions speak loud enough, I’d be lying if I said a part of me isn’t impatiently waiting for that moment with bated breaths.
“I’d like to apologise for being a dick to you when we were kids. It’s no excuse, but I was… in a bad place. Missing my father, not understanding my mother, thrown in a country I didn’t know. I had to adapt, and you were a convenient scapegoat for all my feelings.”
“That’s some profound shit, cugino,” I whistle, and he sighs, exasperated with my taunts.
I get up and clasp a hand on his shoulder.
“Thank you, Lisandru, I appreciate it. You’ve been going to therapy, haven’t you?”
“Yeah,” he answers, sheepish. “Just because I found the love of my life, doesn’t mean the shit with my parents is dealt with in my head, you know?”
The vulnerable confession collides with the idea of a brute and a bully I’ve kept in my mind when it comes to my cousin.
“Of the both of us, I didn’t think you’d be the one doing the adult thing,” I say, ready to move back to a playful territory.
“Well, I’m older than you, fucker.”
“By barely a year. Don’t force me to hand you your ass in the boxing ring, cugino.”
It’s time to leave our past behind, to rebuild this family we are both a part of. “By the way, you can keep your company. I have no use for it.”
“You really are an asshole, you know that? But Andrea, if we merge as planned, you get a bigger market share and a larger network of brilliant staff. I can stay on as CEO of that branch. We can help each other.”
I nod in agreement.
Our conversation ends in light laughter and shared companionship, a new phase in our relationship opening, all thanks to the women in our lives.
* * *
We’re on day three of our trip to Kalliste and Lana and Giulia are inseparable. I barely see my wife and the only thing preventing me from kidnapping her fine ass and bringing her back home where she belongs is that fucking huge smile on her gorgeous face.
I thought she was feeling homesick until she excitedly explained her plans for Rouge to Lana. The animation with which she’s talking now is hard to miss. She starts to go into details and it’s my clue to leave them to it. Pierce and Nico are together now, looking into hours after hours of footage to find Louis, Giulia’s ex, and Addams’s ex nanny.
Knowing we are spending time and resources to find Giulia’s ex makes me want to punch someone, but apparently, just him being her ex is not a good enough reason to let him die. I’ve been tempted, but I can’t deny my wife anything.
My current mood might not be the best for what I plan to do, but every time my eyes land on Umberto Moretti, I want to acquaint his face with my fists, anyway. Better do it now while no one can stop me. If the man only gets a black eye from me, he should be grateful.
I knock on the door of Giulia’s childhood home, a couple of streets away from the main Moretti mansion. There was no security at the main gate, which tells me all I need to know about Umberto. He’s not important enough to need it. I tense when the door opens and Umberto appears on the threshold.
“Andrea. I was not expecting you.” He isn’t inviting me in, but I don’t give a shit. In normal circumstances, I’d have pushed and entered without it, but for the sake of my wife and my goal here, I grit my teeth.
“I have something to discuss with you. May I come in?”
Begrudgingly, we enter a cosy living room, if not outdated. The first thing that strikes me is how dead it all looks, like no one really lives here. The room is sparsely furnished and neatly organised, with an old leather sofa like they made in the nineties, a glass coffee table in front of it with a half-drunk cup, and a few papers that look like contracts. I doubt Umberto spends a lot of time here.
“I won’t waste your time, Mr. Moretti. I’m here for your wife’s engagement ring.”
Umberto chokes on his own spit and I almost wish he wouldn’t recover. I wait until he does though, annoyance prickling at my skin. The sooner I’m out of here, the better.
“What makes you think I’d give it to you?”
“I don’t know if you noticed, but your daughter doesn’t have a proper ring yet.”
“I don’t know what that has to do with anything. Your marriage isn’t even real.”
“I assure you, it’s very much real,” I answer with a smirk. I take great satisfaction in seeing his cheeks turn red with anger and embarrassment. “Let me ask you something, Mr. Moretti. Do you love your daughter?”
“Of course, I do,” he protests, and I’d almost believe him.
Before he can say anything else, I continue. “Allow me to doubt it, considering I blackmailed her into marrying me and not once did you call to inquire about her safety or bargain that I release her from her contract.”
I advance on him, using my size to tower over him. To his credit, he isn’t intimidated.
“Try to intimidate me, boy, and I’ll put a bullet in between your fourth and fifth rib.” I feel the harsh metal digging into my ribs and smile. I wonder how far he’s willing to go.
“I’m merely pointing out that your love for your daughter pales in comparison to what I feel for her.”
“You just said you blackmailed her. You better talk fast because the best option to get her out of a sham marriage is by ending your pathetic life and I don’t give a shit who you are.”
“I love her,” I say honestly and watch as Umberto’s pupils widen before he frowns. His arm relaxes, but his finger remains close to the trigger. “I did blackmail her, and I did fall in love with her. She mentioned early on that she’d only accept her mother’s wedding ring as hers. My guess is that she’d known you’d try to kill me if I tried to get it. Or maybe she just hoped, considering she thinks you don’t care about her at all.”
He sighs and goes to sit on his sofa, engaging the safety of his gun and laying it carelessly on the coffee table. At that moment, he looks older, his shoulders turned inward with grief and regret. “Giulia’s always been very independent. When her mother died, I… When I look at her, it’s my Sylvia I see. I had no clue how to be a father to a girl and then to a woman.”
“If you want me to pity you, you’ll wait all your life, old man.”
“I don’t give a fuck about what you think, Capaldi. All that matters is my family and you might have married my daughter, you might love her, but all that matters to me is her and Dom. I’m telling you this because I trust my Giulia more than I trust my son. She makes the right choices, always. And she has Lana. That’s why I’ve never been behind her back.”
“You should tell her that.”
He snorts, then he must remember who he’s talking to because he straightens and gets up. Without a word, he disappears into a corridor and reappears minutes later, a blue velvet box in his hand.
He drops his gaze to the box in his hands, his voice barely above a whisper, as if talking to himself. “I don’t know why she’d want it. It’s nothing special. I was broke when I asked Sylvia to marry me, so this has no financial value. It’s an amethyst and fake diamonds.”
“It belonged to her mother.”
The answer is simple enough. He nods and hands it to me.
“Now get the fuck out of my property before I shoot you.”
Before he has time to finish his sentence, I grab him by the collar and press him to the wall, my forearm against his throat, holding him in a chokehold and pressing his own gun under his chin, safety off. “Let me be crystal clear, Mr. Moretti. I don’t respect you. You hurt my wife even if you didn’t intend to, and you threatened me, which I don’t take kindly. Do either of these things again, and I will kill you. I’ll make it look like an accident too, so Giulia never suspects.” I’d never do that. Losing her father would cause my little warrior too much pain, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Are we clear?”
“Yes,” he whispers, his voice strained.
I release him and step back. “Good.”
I punch him anyway, fast and hard, and he rears back. “Have a good day, then. And call her more often,” I call out from behind my shoulder as I walk out.