Chapter 18
Leo
The bottle of Macallan is empty by the time I leave the club. I’m in a foul mood, and everyone steps out of my way as I stalk outside. That girl, she’s new. She doesn’t know me, and no one briefed her, it seems. She should’ve been told she must leave after doing what I asked. But she got up and settled on her knees in front of me, her hand going to my fly, trying to caress my cock.
No one is allowed to touch me. No woman has since Bianca has disappeared. It’s been four years, yes, and my fist has worked just fine to keep these urges in check.
I yelled at her, all but threw her out of the room as I fumed in rage. The glass I was drinking from ended up smashed against the wall, which then led me to drinking straight from the bottle. I didn’t pace myself like I would have if I’d been drinking from a glass, and that’s how I imbibed the whole thing.
I know I’m piss drunk right now. Not just in the way I feel, but because the demons have come out to play inside my head, and they also found their way down my body, tearing at my throat because I stopped shouting at the world that we need to find Bianca, slashing across my chest to leave a thousand cuts on my heart, letting me slowly bleed out. Exactly like all the light has drained from my existence since she went, slowly but surely, something I couldn’t stop no matter how much I tried.
Damn this new girl. She opened the floodgates of Hell inside me, and now, the devil’s having a laugh at my expense, my plight his entertainment as his army of minions rage a war of grief and truth all over me. I don’t like getting this drunk, because it forces me to look too clearly at my reality. The blindfold I usually keep over my eyes, too much alcohol dissolves it, and I can’t close my eyes anymore.
I stumble into the car waiting for me and wave at Pano, the driver. It’s my signal to just drive around. Being in motion on the deserted streets at this time of the night, it helps me breathe sometimes. Though today, I’m choking. Bringing the window down doesn’t help, the summer air balmy and wrapping like a cloak instead of whipping past in a refreshing manner. Even having the car go faster doesn’t alleviate this feeling.
“Fuck!” I scream.
It’s not the first time Pano has seen me this way inside his vehicle. He’s been with us since before I was born, and he’s one of the very few people I trust in my entourage now. Him and Mattia, though it strikes me I’m not doing a good job of showing this to these people, my best friend in particular.
Damn whiskey. It’s forcing me to look, and I have nowhere to hide. What I wouldn’t give to be one of those people who pass out stone-dead when inebriated. Me, I see everything in vivid technicolor under sharp, bright lights chasing all the shadows away.
My fists clench when I think of the past few weeks, ever since my father walked out of the family house for the last time, when he said goodbye to me. He left the reins of the family to me, and that includes everything from the people to our businesses to his place at the table of the syndicate. He trusted me with all these tasks, and look at me now, utterly failing him.
I’m not the Don he needed me to be. In this regard, Mattia’s right. My father never resorted to violence unless in very dire circumstances. Me? It’s my instinctual go-to. Look at how I killed Bruno earlier.
Mattia is right. Violence is not always the answer. I’m a Don now, and I need to think things through. I can’t be rash. I can’t let emotions get the better of me. And for this to happen, I need to stop drinking so much I end up drunk. That’s when the impulsive side of me rages forth, when the monster who fuels my blood overrides my mind. It’s the cold, calculated side of me that needs to prevail.
Mattia has figured this out a long time ago—I wasn’t listening. He’s the voice of reason cooling the fire in my blood at the same time he calls to the humanity still left in me when my rational brain takes control.
He knows this, doesn’t he? But then it dawns: how can he, when I’ve never told him as much? I have blood brothers, but Mattia is the person closest to me, more than a brother. We’ve been through thick and thin together. If I keep on the way I have these past few weeks, I run the risk of losing him, and I can’t let this happen.
“Pano, Lenox Hill. Mattia Bonucci’s place,” I direct to my driver.
We aren’t very far, and I’m still ruminating on all this when we stop in the driveway. I’m out in a flash. The doorbell makes a horrific sound that can wake up the dead, and I don’t want to disturb Hana who must be jet-lagged after her flight. So I throw myself on the door and start pounding it. Mattia’s a light sleeper —this should wake him up.
My fist has landed on the panel a few times already, and still no answer. I peek at the side. His car’s in the garage, so he must be home. Why isn’t he answering? I need to talk to him, dammit. I need to apologize for the way I’ve been behaving, as if he’s my lackey and not one of the most important people in my life. Dissatisfaction brews bad blood so easily, and if there’s one thing a Mafia man can’t have, it’s bad blood between him and the members of his family or his good friends. That’s like bringing a curse onto his whole clan, and there’s enough of that on mine already.
I need to mend the rift between me and my best friend right now. It can’t even wait for morning, because then, I’ll be sober, and I might think of my pride and ego too much with the blindfold back on again after the alcohol’s cleared my system.
Finally, there’s the sound of a lock turning. I step away from the door so it can open, and I cringe a little under the scathing glare my oldest friend bestows upon me from inside the house.
“What is it, Leo?” he asks, tone clipped.
I deserve this coldness, even the silent treatment. But I’m not letting bad blood settle between us. Not tonight, not ever.
“Can we talk?” I ask.
He glances back inside, then nods. But instead of opening the door further, he steps out on the stoop and closes it behind him.
I blink, and I know he sees my reaction under the harsh glare of the porch light. This panel closing and leaving me out, it feels like he’s closing off his world from me, excluding me from his family, from his turf. God, did I mess up this bad? I wasn’t paying much attention to him earlier in his car. What else did I miss?
Mattia’s face is harsh when I look at him. He’s drawn to his full height, which is still quite a few inches less than mine, arms crossed over his chest that he’s pushed forward, chin notched up. I know this stance, and it’s one of a man ready to fight not with his fists but with his attitude and persona.
On most days, I’ll lose in such a battle with Mattia, who is a brilliant strategist with a sharp mind. Give me fisticuffs any day, and I’m sure to come out on top. Brawn over brains, though I can also hold my own without getting physically involved. I don’t like it, but I can do it.
Today, however, I don’t want to pit myself against Mattia, and also, I came here to say sorry, to tell him I need his help, that I must have him by my side and never against me. We complement each other, and when we put our strengths together, there’s nothing we can’t do. We’re unstoppable.
“Matti, I—”
He raises one hand, which prompts me to stop.
“What are you doing here, Leo? And at this time?” His gaze roves over me. “And clearly piss drunk.”
I close my eyes briefly. Of course he’s noticed. I can’t hide anything from him. Well, not much, anyway. I do have some secrets I’m keeping safely. This man knows me, and I can’t fib. Not tonight. I came here for a reason, and I best come out with it.
“Let me say my piece, okay?”
His eyebrows lift slightly, which I know is the cue for me to proceed. His body language still says he’s closed up, but at least he’s willing to listen.
“I’m sorry I’ve been behaving like an absolute asshole with you lately. You mean well, and more importantly, you have my back. I don’t acknowledge this enough. Blame it on my pride, on this need I have to live up to my father’s legacy, to show the other Dons I can hold my own. In doing so, I’ve forgotten that no man is an island. I need people I can trust, and more importantly, I need you, Mattia.”
He ducks his head slightly. “I hear you.”
“And?”
I know I’d fucked up, but this bad? He’s making me grovel, and for once, I don’t take it the wrong way. I owe him this much.
“I do have your back, Leo. But do you have mine?”
I frown. What is he talking about? I shake my head, and he sighs.
“I accept your apology, but that’s not the real apology you need to give me, is it?”
“I don’t follow,” I say slowly.
“Don’t you?” He pauses, as if for emphasis. “Have you been keeping a secret from me the whole time I’ve been married?”
What is he talking about? Since he got married? Nothing’s happened since— Realization drops on me like one those cartoon anvils, leaving me a splattered mess on his doorstep. He knows about me and Bianca?
I blink, and it seems like the sign Mattia was waiting for to explode. His hand lands flat against my chest, pushing me, and I’m so stunned, I backtrack a couple of steps instead of anchoring tight in my core and on my feet.
“You fucker!” he hisses. “I trusted you to keep her safe.”
He’s going to turn that table on me? He should look at himself first before casting stones. “Like you were doing such a great job at it, eh?”
Mattia pushes my shoulder this time, though I’m not taken by surprise so don’t budge.
“You fucked my sister, Leo. In my wedding bed, no less. And what was it for you, a quick lay? She was a virgin, for God’s sake.”
I was already formulating my response when his last words cut the wind in my sails. “It…was her first time?”
Mattia curses. “Even better, you didn’t even know!”
“I didn’t,” I mutter. “She didn’t say…”
“Why do you think she’s the only one who could make this alliance happen?”
I’m stunned speechless. I was Bianca’s first. How did I not notice any blood on the bed? The bedspread was red, that’s why. And we were rushing to not get caught.
Mattia sighs, which prompts me to look at him. There’s tension around his eyes, at the corners of his mouth.
“There’s a lot we need to talk about, Leo,” he says, and opens the door. “Sober up first, okay?”
I nod and follow him silently into the quiet house. At the kitchen counter, he waves for me to sit, and I park myself on a stool, an eyebrow lifting when he slides half a pepperoni pizza in front of me. Nothing like cold, greasy pizza to soak up the acidic mix that’s accumulated in the stomach after a bender. I’m on my second slice when he pushes a mug of strong black coffee in front of me.
I nod in thanks, this moment reminding me of our college days. Most of the time, it was Mattia taking care of me this way after a night out drinking, but I’ve also had my fair share of tending to his hangovers, too. It warms my heart, this fleeting complicity between us.
It prompts me to open up, to tell him the truth.
“I don’t think either of us saw it coming, me and Bianca, the day of your wedding,” I start. “I saw her when she came in to check on us, and I was a goner, man. Just like that.”
“Still, to fuck her in my wedding bed.”
I wince. “Sorry for that.”
I go through another slice of pizza then take a sip of coffee. Already, I can feel the roiling in my stomach calming, the clarity returning to my mind. This forces something to the forefront, and it spills out.
“I loved her, you know.”
I’d never told this to anyone except my father. I said it once, and then we never spoke about it. Letting it out today, to someone who matters so much to me and who also loved her, it calms something in me, a storm abating somewhat.
“That’s why you went ape-shit crazy when she disappeared.”
I nod. “I wanted to tell the world I loved her, that I was hers whether she’d take me or not. I’d hoped she would, but…”
“But you never got to find out,” he finishes for me.
And I never will. I gulp against the pang eating up the entirety of my chest right now.
“I should’ve listened to you,” he adds.
I blink at him. “What?”
“I shouldn’t have given up. You never did.”
“Except I did. My drive, my despair, it was eating you all up. I’m sorry I caused you so much pain.”
“Is that the whiskey still talking?”
I smile a little. “I’ve had half a pizza already. You know me.”
It’s like I didn’t even ingest one drop of that Scotch at this point. I’m stone-cold sober, fully rational and thinking clearly.
Mattia nods. “There’s something you need to know.”
Everything inside me tenses up. I don’t like the tone he’s just used. It sounds ominous, like he’s about to reveal a deep, dark secret, and I’ll be the one taking the hit. My gut instinct is back in full force, and I heed it.
“What?” I ask.
“Let me show you,” he says, and exits the kitchen.