Chapter One
Six months ago
Anger and tension radiate through my body as I take in the surroundings along the driveway to my childhood home. Memories I had once been so fond of, are now tainted by what Frederico had done to me fifteen years ago. Not much has changed on the exterior of the Ludovico estate. Let's be honest, it’s a fucking mansion, whoever says otherwise is trying to be humble when they are likely unable to even define the word.
Bright green grass makes up the expansive acreage apart from the circular drive. Large Princesse Charlene de Monaco rose bushes line the right side —my Nonna had insisted upon it for privacy. She had told me once the pastel peach color of flowers that bloom from these bushes were her favorite and wanted to be surrounded by them. It wasn’t until years later that she admitted that she heard the specific type of rose signified elegance. Nonna Ludovico was the embodiment of elegance within the world she belonged to. No one, not even Frederico, would question her. He didn’t become the filth I know today until well after she passed away. At least, not outwardly. If Nonna could see what he’s done, she would roll over in her grave.
My car slows as I press my right foot down on the brake when I get closer to the front steps. When I finally shift into park, I sit for several minutes on my own. As I take in the last moments of what little solace I've had since I made the decision to come home, I realize, this is it. This is the beginning of his end. Strangely enough, that fact gives me more peace than I would expect.
A gust of wind picks up the moment I pull the door handle to step out of my car. The heavy metal barrier nearly drags me out of the car as it’s forced open so wide by the gusts that it tests the hinges. Shit, I have not missed this place. My fingers grip around the handle of my duffle bag on the passenger seat and I pull it out of the car behind me as I step outside. Straightening my spine, I begin walking toward the front door, my steps are full of more confidence than I feel.
As I approach the oversized dark-oak wood and glass panel arched door, both sides fly open. My mother, the ever-flawless Giovanna Ludovico – yes, she had a Gilmore Girls moment when I was born and named me after herself – stands before me with her arms wide. Her long dark hair cascades in soft waves over her shoulders. Soft wrinkles at the corner of her light brown eyes, which match mine, is the only thing that shows her age.
“ Vita mio !” She rushes, wrapping herself around me.
My heart crumbles into a thousand pieces. I hadn’t realized just how much I’ve missed this woman until I feel her warmth against me. And her heart beating alongside mine.
“ Madre ,” I whisper into her hair as I squeeze her tight against my chest.
A throat clears from the doorway, I glance up to find Milo, my best friend since high school, standing there with a shit eating grin spread across his face. My own excitement over seeing him is matched in my expression. Her arm loosens its hold as my mother releases me and steps aside so Milo and I can pull one another into an embrace.
“Man, is it good to see you, Gio!” His voice is more gruff than usual as he speaks into my shoulder.
When we finally release one another, I shake my head, the smile still firmly in place. I can’t believe the man that is standing in front of me was once the scrawny punk I had to get out of trouble more times than I can count. He’s filled out since I last saw him, now with a broad chest and shoulders straining against his black button up like a beast. I wonder if his trainer can hold a candle to Clay.
“You too, Milo – but, it’s Johnny now.” I correct him.
My mother’s eyes glisten with tears at my statement. Inwardly I’m groaning, however, I keep my annoyance masked. I know she wasn’t happy when I changed my name, but it was a necessary evil to be able to separate myself from the lot of them. And, well – I'm not Giovanni and I haven’t been for a long time.
No one bothers to acknowledge my correction; Milo simply moves aside to allow me access to the house. It’s exactly as I remember. I step inside, into the large foyer furnished with overstated antiques from my grandparents and great grandparents, years of collecting take up space all around the entryway. As I continue through the space, I see a chest I once hid in for a game of hide and seek when my father was still alive. But, we don’t talk about him.
“Where is he?” I ask as I continue my way through my childhood home into the large living room. My eyes linger on the sizeable floor length windows, which take up the entire east side wall of the room. The view of the front drive and oversized yard is impressive from this angle. You can see so much of our expansive land. The rose bushes are just the start of the vast estate.
When no one answers, I turn back to look at my mother and my friend. My eyes dart back and forth between the two before she breaks the silence.
“He and Lucia are in Sicily for the week."
My blood becomes molten in my veins as I allow her words to sink in. He is still with the woman I was supposed to marry.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” I snarl at them both.
Milo steps between Giovanna and I before he finds his nerve to speak.
“Because she will be a non-issue after this trip.” His dark eyes penetrate through my anger, and I step back as if I’ve been slapped.
“What in the actual fuck, Milo. We don’t kill women.” The words come out in a feral growl.
He shakes his head as if I’ve misunderstood. How the fuck could I misunderstand what he’s just admitted to me.
“No, Gi-Johnny. We’re not killing her.” He shakes his head, an amused expression etched across his face. “Frederico is leaving her there, he’s offered her to one of the soldiers in the old country. She just won’t know until she wakes up and he’s gone.”
The words pierce through my rage, and I begin to laugh. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, a deep rumble of laughter that reverberates through my bones.
“Fuck, that is brilliant. I can’t imagine a better revenge for Lucia quite honestly.” I admit through the laughter.
After I catch my breath, I slide onto the large red leather couch. My mother takes a seat next to me while Milo is seated opposite me.
“Are we going to discuss the reason you brought me home or am I supposed to guess?” I ask, cutting straight to the point.
Milo snorts and shakes his head. “Never one to pussy foot around a topic. Fuck, it’s good to have you home.”
My mother shoots a venomous glare at Milo, which makes us both chuckle. However, she’s the one who gets into what she wants before my friend and I can get lost in the good ole times we’ve shared.
“Everyone who matters is in on it. As soon as he gets home, he’ll be told there is someone in the cell that he needs to handle.” I cock a brow at her in question, she shakes her head, immediately understanding the unspoken concern as she continues. “Don’t worry, his arthritis is so bad he can’t shoot anymore.”
I nod in understanding as I shove my hand into my pocket, feeling the weight of my Roma blade. The knowledge of what we’re going to do has me anxious with such anticipation, every scenario running through my mind.
“How many people who don’t know will be in the room?” I ask as I see a familiar face approaching the three of us.