Chapter 34
34
LAZARO
The first thing I see is Amara’s tear-streaked face. “What happened?” I demand, rushing toward her and scooping her up into my arms. “Someone start talking,” I bark, holding her close.
“I’m alright, Lazaro,” Amara reassures me hastily, wrapping her arms around my neck. “It’s just been an emotional couple of minutes. I’m fine.”
I look around the room, pausing when I see Alonzo in the corner with Rori, holding her tightly against him, murmuring quietly. Then I see Sofia close to Dante, and a sinking feeling fills my stomach. “What happened?” I demand, my tone no less worried. “Has there been another attack?”
“No, son,” Papa says, a heaviness to his tone. “We were reviewing the diary and certificates, and some revelations have come to light that we didn’t expect.”
“Revelations?” Massimo repeats as he moves to stand next to me.
“Put me down, Lazaro,” Amara orders softly. I hesitate to let her go. “Please,” she whispers. Reluctantly, I set her back on her feet, but I don’t let her far away from me; I curl my arm around her to keep her close. “Gia read an entry from her mother’s diary that was very upsetting,” she explains.
I look to my father for clarification because none of this is making any fucking sense. Pietro simply hands me the diary after opening it to a particular page. I take it, reading it silently. Then I read the part that clearly explains the issue. “What the fuck?” I blurt out. I don’t even fight Massimo when he pulls the thing out of my hands. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Wish we were,” Dante says tightly.
“Alessio and Nico are with their women,” Zeno adds with a grim expression. “Sienna tried to comfort Gia, but it didn’t quite happen.”
I hate these fucking DeLucas. Even from the grave, they’re hurting their daughters. I almost don’t want to pull any of the documents I have out of my pocket. Not with Amara around, for sure. I look at my father and Pietro, and I can see they share my thoughts.
None of us speak for a few long moments, until finally Amara says, “I want to see my mother’s diary, Lazaro.”
I stiffen. “ Colombina ,” I start carefully.
“No,” she says firmly. “I’ve been through so much more than you can imagine. To know that one more didn’t want me isn’t going to break me any further than I’ve already been broken.”
I don’t believe that for a second. “Let us look at it first, Amara,” I ask. “We believe your mother was the mastermind behind getting the girls out. You’re older than Sienna, so she got you out first, and may have told your aunt how to do the same. There could be information that helps us predict Giovanni’s next move. After that, I’ll give it to you.”
Amara doesn’t look like she believes me. “Why? So you can censor it, in case I might be hurt by something she says? No, thank you, Lazaro.”
“I won’t allow that to happen, cara mia ,” Pietro says firmly. He gives me a hard look, knowing full well that is exactly what I would have done. “But Lazaro is right that we need the information your mother can provide to us.” Amara looks like she wants to argue further, but finally, she nods stiffly, even though I can feel the tension radiating off her. “Thank you, Amara. Lazaro.” He holds out his hand, and I pass him the documents I have.
I briefly explain what we found before finishing with, “There is also a document that mentions Ivan, and another word that Massimo translated to ‘Chameleon’. We don’t know what that means, but it must be important.”
“We’ll get on it,” Papa promises.
“What are our names?” Amara asks suddenly. I look at her in confusion. “On the certificates. Did our mother name me and my sister?”
Pietro examines them briefly before holding them out to her. “Yes, she did, cara mia .”
Amara takes them with shaking hands. She looks at the top one and reads, “Alessandra Gianna. This must be my sister. The birthdate is a couple of years after mine.”
“That would put her after the youngest boy,” Dante says thoughtfully. “Marcello, I think.”
Amara flips to the other one. Her mouth twists slightly. “Valentina Rosa. That’s a mouthful.”
I smile. “I much prefer your name now,” I assure her. Then I lean down to whisper in her ear, “And Valentina is far too long of a name to say when I’m deep inside you.”
Amara shivers delicately, making me grin. I note that she’s worn a high-necked shirt with her hair down, no doubt trying to conceal the marks I left last night. A part of me is annoyed that she would hide them, but the rest of me knows that this isn’t something she’s used to, and being around unfamiliar people without me probably feels uncomfortable. “Stop,” she softly admonishes me sternly, making me chuckle.
My father and brothers give me knowing smirks but thankfully don’t say anything to embarrass her. Instead, I say, “This will help us find Amara’s sister.”
“I’m already on it,” Zeno says. “Well, Urso and I. Urso started the search for Gia and Sienna’s. We have her name, so from there, we can start our traces.”
And pray that Leonardo and Giovanni haven’t found them first. I leave it unsaid, but it hangs heavy in the air.
“So we just have to wait?” Amara asks.
“For now, yes,” Pietro answers. “But we’ll find them, Amara.”
“Won’t my father and uncle be upset that we’ve gotten these?” she asks worriedly.
“We’re counting on that,” Massimo says with a grin. “We want them angry, little sister. Anger makes them rash, and they’ll make mistakes. That’s how you get ahead.”
Amara nods slowly, though she doesn’t look convinced.
Suddenly the phone on Nico’s desk starts to ring. I twist my head and see Giovanni’s name on the screen. “Answer it,” Pietro orders Dante.
Dante puts the phone on speaker. “Giovanni,” Dante says calmly. “I hear condolences are in order. Again.” It’s a deliberate taunt, and it does the trick.
“I will fucking kill you all,” Giovanni screams furiously through the phone. “I will kill every single one of you and all those whores in your beds. You have no idea what you’ve done.”
“I believe it is you that does not realize what you have done, DeLuca,” Pietro tells him darkly, sounding every inch the Don that he is.
In return, Giovanni roars, “Your men killed my sons! You think I will allow you to live, Caruso? Your empire will crumble before your eyes. You have no idea what I have at my disposal to ensure it happens.”
Pietro gives a humorless laugh. “You mean your association with the Russians? Or perhaps you think that you will be able to ask your ex-wife’s family for assistance this time. Or enemies of theirs, perhaps? It’s no matter, because this does not end with you winning, Giovanni. This will end with you lying in the gutter, where your father should have left you as a child. You and your final son. Your line will be wiped clean.”
“My line will never die,” Giovanni spits. “You will never kill me, but if you did, I have daughters that will carry it on.”
“I will carry nothing of yours,” Amara suddenly snarls. All heads whip toward her, and I feel both pride and fear at her outburst. She has just put herself in the line of fire, and I didn’t want Giovanni to ever hear her voice.
“Your children will,” Giovanni tosses back righteously.
“My children will carry my blood, untainted by a life under your thumb, and the blood of men far greater than you could ever hope to be,” Amara snaps back. “They will be loved for who they are, not for their gender. I will teach them everything you never could to your own children. Because I might carry your blood in my veins, but you are not my father. You never will be.”
The fury coming through the line is almost palpable. “The minute I have you with me, daughter, you will regret those words,” he vows. “What you experienced as a child will be nothing compared to what I’ll have my men do to you.”
Amara jerks at his statement, and fury washes over me. I open my mouth to blast him, but then Amara starts to laugh. I look at her sharply. There is no humor there. No, she is a vision of righteous determination. Pride swells in my chest, hot and bright. “You think that’s a threat, you cocksucker?” she taunts. “You really think that would hurt me? You know nothing. You have no idea what I survived, and I’ll survive anything else you try to throw at me. Know this - when you die, I won’t mourn you. In fact, I won’t feel anything for you at all. I’ll be living my life, and never give you a second thought. You have no power over me. You should start preparing yourself for the inevitable. The devil surely has a lovely place for you in the furthest pits of hell. And when I eventually meet my sister, we’ll drink a toast that you’re out of our lives forever, and we never have to think of you again. You and our brothers. Tell me, where did you bury them? Perhaps I’ll pay them a visit to spit on their graves.”
“I will enjoy killing you.” Giovanni seethes. “Soon. Very soon, Amara. All of you better be ready, because you’ll be dead before the week is through.” Then the phone line goes dead.
There’s silence for a moment before Amara asks, “Does he always talk like he’s in a low budget mob movie? Or is that reserved for me?”
I snort, while Massimo and Zeno both burst out laughing. Papa and Pietro grin at her. “They’ve always been dramatic,” Dante tells her, his lips quirked into a smirk. “You’re just finally getting to hear it for yourself.” Sofia smiles and nods her agreement.
The phone starts to ring again, but this time, it’s Leonardo’s name on the screen. “Well, look at that,” Massimo jokes. “We’re sure popular with the DeLucas.”
Pietro picks up this time, putting it on speaker. “DeLuca,” he says simply. “Have you called to finally apologize for the slight that your family has dealt to mine?”
Leonardo is silent on the other end before he finally answers, “I have nothing to apologize to your family for, Caruso. My son worked on his own, however, you seem to think that breaking into my home and stealing from me is the way to solve our dispute.” His tone turns hard. “You have made a grave error. Though I should have expected that eventually the whore’s secrets would come to light.”
“Ah, yes, you mean Nico’s mother,” Pietro answers. “Was it wise to fuck a rival Don’s wife? Those things are always revealed eventually.”
“She made me a lot of money,” Leonardo replies carelessly. “Right under that idiot’s nose. He had no idea. Nico killing her certainly put a damper on things, cutting out the routes we needed. It cost us billions to change our routes. And he thinks to take my daughter and harbor the other one? I’m sure you can understand my…frustration at the entire situation.”
“That is one way to put it,” Pietro agrees mildly. “Now, would you like to tell me the purpose of this call? We have things to see to.”
“Like reading my whore wife’s diary?” Leonardo chuckles drily. “Have my daughters read it, would you? Especially Gia. It’s time she finally realizes exactly how worthless she is. Her own mother despised her.”
“How can you find this funny?” Amara suddenly demands. Damn it. I don’t want her on Leonardo’s radar either.
“Ah, this must be my newest niece,” Leonardo says after a brief pause. Then his voice turns hard. “She killed my son. Did you expect me to welcome her with open arms, Ms. Stanley? She was worthless then, and her mother knew it. The only reason she is still alive is that her mother reminded me that she could be useful in marriage. I regret not killing her the moment she was born. Just like I regret not slicing my wife’s throat for her failure. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, as they say.”
“You and your family are monsters,” Amara tells him coldly. “And I won’t mourn a single one of you when you’re dead.”
“Maybe not, but you certainly might mourn the loss of another cousin, won’t you?” he says back.
We all freeze in place. All but Pietro, who says, “Are you trying to make a point, DeLuca? Perhaps you can get to it.”
Dante’s cellphone chimes, and he pulls it out as Leonardo says, “Say goodbye to your cousin, Ms. Stanley. And tell my whore daughters that I’ll deal with them soon.” Then the line goes dead.
Dante turns his phone to show an image of a woman bound to a chair, mouth taped shut, blood dripping down her face from swollen eyes and a busted nose. She’s only wearing a short sundress, and her hazel eyes are terrified. She’s the spitting image of Gia and Sienna.
“Motherfucker, he got to her first,” Massimo hisses, infuriated. “We need to get her back before he kills her or ships her off and we can’t find her again.”
Pietro concurs. “Aurelio, find where Leonardo is hiding. Once you do, Massimo, you take a team to get her back. The rest of us, we need to prepare for a war that’s about to hit us hard. It’s time we finished this. We’ll find Amara’s sister as well, but I want these fuckers dead and gone.” He looks at me. “Go and get yourself cleaned up and we’ll regroup as soon as Nico and Alessio come back. They’ll be out for blood for making Gia and Sienna so upset.”
“I need to make some phone calls,” Rori suddenly says with determination.
“Who do you need to call?” Alonzo asks suspiciously.
She glances at him, and then back at Pietro. “You said the paper from Giovanni’s desk says the word ‘chameleon’, right?” Pietro nods, watching her carefully. “‘Chameleon’ isn’t a word, it’s a person. Or, persons . I’ve heard my father and brothers use it before. They’re trained assassins that the Russians will hire for the jobs that their own men can’t or won’t do. They are deadly, dangerous, and if Ivan or Giovanni plan to use them, we need to be ready. They make the ones that Parisi hired look like amateurs.”
“How does that have anything to do with you calling someone?” Alonzo asks.
“Because I have contacts of my own that know about the chameleons,” Rori answers after a minute. “Not my family, but others, and I can get information that you can’t.”
“Is there a point in asking how you know them?” Pietro asks shrewdly.
Rori holds his gaze. “No. And if they find out that you learned about them from me, I’m as good as dead.”
“What?” Alonzo hisses. “No, you are not calling them.”
“Yes, I am,” Rori says firmly, not even looking at him.
“I forbid it,” Alonzo barks.
“Call them,” Pietro finally declares. “You know the consequences of betraying us, Ms. O’Brien.” The warning is crystal clear, and I hear Amara gasp in shock and horror. I wrap my arm around her a little tighter, trying to calm her. It’s the nature of this world, but I know Alonzo will never allow anything to happen to Rori. It’s written all over his face.
“Yes,” Rori confirms. She leaves the room, Alonzo following after, his own face set in determination.
“Can we trust her?” I ask softly. “I like her, and she’s Sienna’s friend, but this is…this is different.”
“Of course you can trust her,” Amara tries to argue.
“Amara,” Sofia says, drawing her attention. “Trust in this world is earned, and Rori’s connections aren’t exactly ones that can be easily dismissed. It’s hard, I know, but friendships can’t factor in something this important. Not something that has the potential to kill us all, if the people Rori is talking to decide to come after us.”
Amara looks like she still wants to argue. “ Colombina .” She looks up at me mutinously, mouth set in a thin line. “I'm sure that Rori is trustworthy, but we cannot risk your safety for anything. I can’t. But you need to trust us that we know what’s best and we will make sure everyone is safe, including Rori, alright?”
“She’s my friend, Lazaro.”
“I know she is, and I’m grateful for that. But Rori is connected to a powerful Russian family. Italians and Russians do not mix under normal circumstances. Her being here is cause for her family to go to the people they work for and cause problems. Problems we don’t have the time or resources to fight right now. So we must be careful.”
Amara stares up at me, until finally, she nods. “Alright.” She sighs. “I don’t like it, but I understand.”
“Thank you, colombina ,” I say, leaning down to kiss her forehead. I look back at Pietro and tell him in Italian, “I’m taking Amara upstairs. This is a lot for her for one day.”
Pietro gives Amara a smile. “Go with Lazaro, cara mia . Make sure that he’s not injured, and then we’ll figure out next steps, alright?”
Amara acquiesces. “Alright. Thank you, Don Caruso.”
“Pietro, cara ,” he corrects. “In private company like this, we’re not formal; we use first names.” Then he takes her hand and kisses the back of it. “I could not have chosen a better woman for Lazaro myself,” he tells her with a warm smile. “We will sit and talk more when things are calmer, Amara. I would like to know more about the woman that can face down her father and uncle so well.” He winks and steps back, releasing her hand.
She blushes, and I shoot Pietro a scowl. Pietro grins wickedly, knowing full well how jealous his flirting is making me. “If only I was a decade or two younger, son. I’d have given you a run for your money,” he teases in Italian.
“I’d have run circles around you,” I retort, but I smile at him. Amara is watching us suspiciously. I smile at her and pull her toward the exit.
We make our way up to our room, neither of us saying a word, though we pause when we hear yelling coming from Alonzo’s room. “You have no say over my life, you overgrown ape!” Rori’s voice screams. “You think because we fucked once, that gives you any right? You took it back! You regretted it! You don’t get to change your tune now.”
Amara gapes at the door, but I pull her along. “Best not to get in the middle of that, colombina ,” I warn her. “Those two need to figure it out themselves.”
“I thought they had chemistry, but I didn’t realize it went that far,” Amara replies, following me into our room. Once the door is shut and locked, she looks up at me with worried eyes. “Are you sure they’ll be alright?”
“Yes,” I promise her, pulling her deeper into the room. “Alonzo won’t hurt her. This is something they need to figure out, and they will. It may not work out in the way either of them expects, but until then, the two of them will always be at odds.”
“She was jealous that Alonzo gave me his shirt,” she admits. “She tried to hide it but I saw it on her face. I tried to turn him down, not wanting to hurt her like that, but she and Alonzo both said to take it.”
I scowl down at her as I pull her toward the bathroom. “I still don’t like the thought of you wearing his shirt, Amara,” I grumble.
“It was a shirt, Lazaro,” she huffs irritably. “It’s not like I wore his underwear or something. It was that or be naked.” I mutter under my breath and let her go long enough to start the shower. “Ah, what are you doing?” she asks.
“We’re going to have a shower,” I answer as I start to strip.
“Yeah, no,” she says with a firm shake of her head. “I know where that’s going to end up and it’s not happening. My vagina is so swollen that you won’t get in this time.”
I pause. “What?” The idea of her hurting sets me on edge.
She rolls her eyes. “It’s normal. Or at least, that’s what the girls told me. Now, the beard burns, that we’re going to work on. Because there is no way I am dealing with that all the time. I already have beard oil for you that will help.”
“I’ve hurt you?” I demand, feeling guilty and angry at myself. “Show me, Amara. Now.”
“Lazaro, calm down. It’s not a big deal.”
“I won’t ask again, Amara. Strip so I can see for myself.”
Amara stares at me, then huffs out an annoyed sigh before stripping out of her clothes. She points to the red patches on her thighs. “See? Nothing to worry about. I put a bit of cream on them this morning when I got out of the bath, and they’ve been fine.”
I drop to my knees, gently gripping her legs to pull them apart so I can look closer. Her skin is red and does look sore, though I can see the abrasions are already healing. “I don’t like knowing I’ve hurt you, dolcezza .” I lean forward, brushing my mouth over one of my marks with the barest of pressure. She gasps in surprise, and I immediately smell her arousal. I kiss the next one and then the rest, moving to her other thigh to give them all the same treatment. By the time I’m finished, her thighs are trembling, and she’s soaking wet. I look up at her with a smirk. “Are you alright, colombina ?” I ask her innocently.
Her eyes are glazed before she blinks and looks down at me. “I know what you’re doing,” she admonishes, her voice husky with desire. “I can’t take you again.”
I’m quickly brought back down to earth at her admission. I gently nudge her knees further apart again, lifting my hand to tease over her mound and down between her legs. She hisses, jerking slightly, though I can’t tell if it’s from pain or because my fingers have moved over her clit. I can feel that she is swollen, and guilt swallows me. “I’m sorry, colombina ,” I say again, looking up at her.
She shakes her head. “No, I loved what we did, it’s just a bit much with me being new at this. My mind and my body don’t agree right now,” she adds when I pull my hand away and suck her arousal off my fingers. “It’s so hot when you do that.”
I smile at her. “Well, then isn’t it good that I love the taste of you.” A thought occurs to me. “Get in the shower, Amara. I’m going to show you something that I wanted to try the other night when you were in the bath.” She hesitates, looking unsure. “I won’t be making love to you tonight,” I promise. “But we can do other things that will ease the ache inside you. Trust me.”
Those last two words seem to do the trick and she enters the shower without another word, watching me as the water beats down over her skin. “Good girl,” I praise. Then I walk to the closet where I put the toys I bought for her. Many of them are far beyond what she’s ready for, but eventually, I plan to use all of them as often as she’ll let me.
I pick the small vibrator and head back to the shower, but stop just outside when I see Amara leaning back against the shower wall, hand between her legs as she rubs at her clit, a blissful look on her face. Fuck, it’s fucking beautiful. I quickly strip out of the rest of my clothes and walk into the shower, setting the vibrator down on the bench.
Amara’s eyes jump open and her face flushes. She goes to move her hand, but I return her hand to where it was. “Don’t stop now, dolcezza ,” I tell her. “Tell me what you need.”
Amara’s breathing is ragged as she pants, “I just…you made me so needy, and I just wanted to ease it a little bit, but it feels so good. I don’t want to stop.”
“Then don’t,” I say as I move to kneel in front of her. “It’s nothing to feel embarrassed about. The only thing I ask is that you don’t hide this from me. Never hide that you want me, Amara. Trust me. When we’re apart and you ache so badly that you need to get yourself off, I want you to think of me. Then, when I get home, I want you to reenact it so I can fulfill your every fantasy.”
“O-okay,” she gasps, her hand moving a little faster.
“That’s it. How does that feel, Amara?” I move my head to nuzzle at her thigh, careful to avoid any of the sore spots and not scratch her any further.
“Ooh,” she moans, her hand stopping. “When you do that it’s almost too much. It’s like my body doesn’t know what to do with the sensation.”
“Then let me show you.” I turn and grab the vibrator on the bench. “Trust me?”
She looks at the vibrator with wide eyes, before looking back at me. She nods. “I trust you.”.