43. Allesandro
W ith the words “they’re gone” ringing in my head, I set off to investigate, because fuck if that makes any sense. Doc’s cold finality sends shivers down my spine as I move up the stairs, toward my bedroom. The one I’ve shared with Emilio for so long now. The one he fucking belongs in.
When I get there, I only have to cross the threshold to know he’s gone.
Still, I go to the closet that’s been left open.
There’s disarray everywhere, like he grabbed what he could and said fuck it to the rest. I growl at the thought of him doing this, of tearing what I own apart.
They fucking think they can be Bosses? That they can turn their backs on us?
Pacing the room, my hands vibrate with rage, when suddenly, the glint of metal catches my attention.
There, on the fucking bed, where we laid together, where we made love, where we whispered plans for the future, is his engagement ring.
My heart stops and my vision narrows as my feet drag me closer, even as the coldness seeps in deeper.
It’s weighing down a piece of paper, and I blink at the messy scrawl across the page. The ink is rushed, and fuck, barely legible at times. Still, I slowly read the words that are dashed across the page.
You didn’t think I would walk away, that I’d leave.
But here I am, doing it. You killed the love I had for you, tore the respect to pieces, and you threatened everything you spent hours teaching me about.
Your loyalty. Courage. Victory? Where is that?
You’re not loyal to us. You hide behind Cristian, not using any of that courage to admit you’re wrong.
So here’s your victory. It’s me leaving.
You can have the empty house, and the man you now claim to love.
I hope he realizes that you don’t even know what that word means anymore.
If you did, you wouldn’t have hurt me like you did—you wouldn’t have hurt our Family.
I’m giving you back your ring. Maybe next time, give it to someone you actually respect.
I inhale sharply, my mind turning those words over as I stumble to sit on the edge of the bed. I never thought he’d walk away. It’s not right. It’s not what’s fucking allowed. His place—all of their places—are under me. I am Il Padrone. The Master. And I’m the fucking Head of the Martellis.
But…where are the Martellis now? Shaking my head, I push that traitorous thought out of my mind and trace the words on the note. There’s no way. I won’t let him get away with this. I won’t let him walk away. I…can’t.
Maybe next time, give it to someone you actually respect. My victory. Love. Words keep repeating in my head, and I tighten my hands, crumpling the note in my fist.
Fuck. There’s no way. He’ll quickly give up this farce. He’s not ready. Hell, he may even get himself killed.
My victory. Love. Respect. No, I won’t do this. I’ll keep going. He’ll come back. And if he doesn’t? I’ll drag him home by his hair and lock him in a room. I’ll slap that shock collar on him again, because fuck if he thinks he can walk away.
But first, I’ll let him try, so when he fails, he comes crawling back. And failing is exactly what he’ll do… He has to, doesn’t he?
Courage. Loyalty. Victory… Love. Fuck. He’s risking it all, and he’s too fucking stupid to understand what he’s facing.
Respect . I push it all away and stand up. I smooth out the piece of paper and set it on the dresser. Carefully, I place the ring on top of it. It’ll be on his finger again. Whether he wants it or not.
But first, I need to find Cristian. Maybe the right move is to watch them fail. Victory.
To be continued…