Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Damian
Not knowing what’s going on after Alessio leaves the wedding is making me feel restless.
I keep an eye on Rosalie, of course, but all the while, I’m wondering what Alessio is doing.
If he’s gotten the information we desperately need to figure out who left the bomb at the Fiorelli’s front door and shot up the rehearsal dinner—and why.
The why of it all is not nearly as important as who, but in my line of work, knowing the motive behind an action can just as easily provide the resolution.
It depends if they’re really looking for a resolution though.
If Eivor is anything like he has come off the last couple weeks, he may prefer to gun down the entire family of whoever is behind this, rather than come to some peaceful end.
My job, however, isn’t to be a gunman. I’m here to protect. Even if that means getting Rosalie and Alessio the fuck away from all this.
I’m hoping that this honeymoon will mean just that.
After the reception is over, I’m driving a very tipsy Rosalie to a hotel an hour away from Tessari. Just far enough away to be some kind of escape, but not too far away if they’re needed for something.
Rosalie gets in before Alessio, who is meeting us there.
The hotel is Fiorelli owned, but it’s quite out of the way of everything else.
The private suite has multiple bedrooms, a kitchen, and a small living room with a desk as well.
I check every single room, and every single window. There are no microphones or cameras planted anywhere that I can tell. The windows are locked. The balcony is facing the ocean and not another building. The closets are empty. The bathrooms clean and nothing looks out of the ordinary.
It’s 10:52 p.m., and everything seems safe.
“I need some coffee,” Rosalie says with a bit of regret in her voice. She puts a hand on her head and shuffles off to the kitchen, still in her reception dress.
While she’s preparing coffee, I lean against the wall that faces the door into the suite.
It seems like forever before it finally clicks open with the keycard and Alessio steps in with his rolling suitcase in hand.
He’s still wearing his tux, but there’s blood splattered on the cuffs.
“Are you alright?” I ask him in a low tone.
He nods. “I am,” he replies. “Is Rosalie awake?”
I nod as well. “She’s in the kitchen making coffee.”
Alessio leaves his bag in the living room and heads to the side to the small kitchen where coffee is brewing and something is cooking on the stove as well. Eggs it looks like.
“I needed something else to eat,” she explains casually, but then seems to realize it’s not just me walking into the room. Alessio is in front of me.
“Oh, Alessio,” she says slowly. “What happened?”
He sighs. “It’s not good,” he admits.
Rosalie sets the wooden spatula she’s holding down and crosses her arms.
“What’s going on? What did you find out?” she asks. “By the way, sneaking out of the wedding and not even inviting me was a shit move.”
I give Alessio a pointed glance, which he seems to distinctly ignore.
“It was better that it was just me there,” Alessio insists. “Anyway… It turns out the driver was hired by the Tulos. A crime syndicate who has had their eyes on us for a while. They’ve never made a move until recently.”
“You sound uncertain about it,” Rosalie comments.
I look between them. I can feel the tension in the room. I’m not sure how much of it is coming from me. My hands are practically balled into fists.
“The driver said that the gun was only hired to kill you,” Alessio admits.
I freeze. Rosalie freezes as well, not blinking.
There’s a cold stillness in the room. The only sound is the sizzling of eggs and the spurting of the brewing coffee at its end.
“Just me?” Rosalie asks.
“Just you,” Alessio confirms. “If we’re to believe the guy anyway. He could have been lying, but given what he was going through at the time, I doubt it.” Alessio smirks ever so slightly, but then his face falls again. “It appears the Tulos have something against the Fiorellis specifically.”
“That would make sense,” Rosalie mumbles. “They did bomb our porch.”
Alessio shakes his head. “I’m not sure if they actually did that. We have no way of knowing, but if they did, it probably won’t be long before they do it again.”
“They could be watching now,” Rosalie says uncomfortably. “What I don’t understand is why they would have a grudge against us. We haven’t done anything even remotely related to them.”
“I agree, it doesn’t make as much sense as it seems.” Alessio steps closer to her. “I don’t personally think it’s just about you. Even if you were the intended target.”
I look toward the floor for a moment, thinking. Trying to tie together all of the ends that I’ve been given up to this point.
“Could the Tulos be against the marriage, but only because of the Fiorellis?” I ask.
“Why wouldn’t they target both of us?” Rosalie asks.
“Perhaps they want the Dresvannis alive,” I suggest. “If they are interested in the Dresvannis, but are against the Fiorellis joining them, they might target only you.”
Rosalie sighs. “Great. Just what I need. Eivor was all for this marriage, he thought it was going to solve all his problems with power,” she admits. “Now it might be the reason we’re being targeted.”
“If you are being targeted because of it, it’s too late now,” Alessio reminds the both of us.
I nod slowly. “You’re already married. It’s done.”
Rosalie turns toward the stove and picks up the spatula again. She pushes the eggs around a bit before turning the burner off, and letting them cook the rest of the way with the residual heat.
“The only option is to take the Tulos down,” Rosalie mumbles.
“It might be,” Alessio agrees.
The room is quiet. “We need more information,” I tell them. “We don’t know for sure what’s going on, and for now, you’re safe. I’ve checked every room.”
“Good,” Alessio glances at me, and I swear I feel thudding in my chest. My heart beating hard and fast.
Rosalie dumps her eggs on her plate, grabs a fork, and then a mug to pour her coffee. It’s completely silent while she does this. Rosalie looks beyond tired.
None of us say anything else, and I wonder if it’s because we all have nothing left to say, or we all have the same thing to say.
Regardless, it’s quiet for several more moments, and the tension in the room is thick.
“I’ll be sleeping in my own room,” she tells Alessio, with a pointed look. “I know your privacy is important to you.”
Even I understand what she means before she disappears from the kitchen.
They will not be consummating their marriage tonight.
I sit in the living room of the suite sipping at my own mug of coffee while Alessio makes his way to the other bedroom with his things.
It’s well after eleven by the time he comes back out. My coffee is gone, and I hadn’t been expecting to see him again tonight.
“The Tulo family could be planning their next move right now,” he says quietly.
Alessio has changed out of his tux and is wearing dark blue silk pajama pants and a light grey t-shirt that clings to his biceps and chest.
I swallow hard and glance away from him and toward the TV screen that is black and only shows me my own face in return.
“They probably are,” I agree.
I remind myself there are more important things to get hung up on than the way Alessio looks tonight and look back toward him. “They must know that their driver was caught and interrogated.”
“We need to find the shooter,” he replies. “He’ll get us the information we need. The driver wasn’t related to the Tulos at all, but the shooter… the driver said he was a Tulo.”
I nod slowly and stand up. “That’s good to know. Do we know if the Carvels are involved with the Tulos?”
Alessio folds his arms and stands in front of me with a frustrated look on his face. Pinched brows. “No. The driver barely gave us any information besides the fact that they only intended to kill Rosalie.”
“I’d ask for a chance to get more information from him but he’s dead now, isn’t he?” I ask slowly, wondering if Alessio was the one who did the job.
“He is,” Alessio says, and eyes me. “If you’re wondering if I did it, I didn’t.”
“I wasn’t,” I lie. “But I know what needs to be done is done.”
“It is, and it’s part of my life. I’m used to it. Don’t act like you aren’t,” he snips at me. Clearly picking up on some of the tension in the room.
I shake my head. “Killing isn’t against my nature, Alessio, but it’s not what I’m signed up for,” I explain. “I’m here to protect you, and yeah, if that means putting a bullet in some bastard’s head, I will. First and foremost, if I have the choice, I’ll get you out before I lift my gun.”
Alessio’s expression softens. “I don’t exactly enjoy killing, not like some people,” he looks to the side.
“There’s a rush, but it’s messy and I hate replacing my clothing.
I’d rather figure out what can benefit both sides.
Still…I’m used to death; but I’m not a simple soldier.
I don’t kill on command or for no reason but the ego of another man. ”
“Good,” I reply simply. “It’s good to know you’ll be able to handle it if it comes down to it.”
“I can handle anything,” Alessio steps closer to me. “If you think what happened the other night means otherwise…”
I blink at him. It takes me a second to realize what he means. “No,” I insist. “I don’t think that.”
Heat crawls up my body and my hands ball into fists.
“Good,” he repeats my word and steps even closer.
He doesn’t say anything else. I don’t say anything else.
Alessio just gets closer and closer until his fingers brush mine.
His eyes pour into mine like crisp clear water.
It’s electric, and my heart drums in my chest. My dick throbs in my pants.
I can’t stand being so close to him and not kissing him, I realize.
It’s a scary thought.