55. Burn It to the Ground
CHAPTER 55
BURN IT TO THE GROUND
R affaele
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
I force the calm my body doesn’t feel as I approach the gate to my father’s compound on foot with my backpack slung over my shoulder. The elaborate Mediterranean villa sits on a hill with all of Rome stretched out below it. Papà used to say it made him feel like a king to own such a grand estate after his humble beginnings. To me, it’s nothing but an extravagant reminder of the worst day of my life, and I’d be more than happy to burn it to the ground. And finally, today I will…
I never thought I’d be back. And now here I am, forced to return to the place where Papà stole the first love of my life to save the second, the woman I want beside me for the rest of my life. The thought, even in the privacy of my own mind is startling. I never thought I could feel this way again. I vowed he would never have Isabella, and I intend to keep my word. I can feel it in the depths of my bones; she is here.
And I will get her out, even if it means destroying my entire family in the process.
I scale the wrought iron gate, silently drop down onto the lush grass, then release my gun from the holster and clutch it tight in my fist. Then I creep along the outer wall, careful to avoid the roving guards. Papà is so predictable, his security hasn’t changed in ten years. I circle the compound, searching for any sign of Isabella before I rain all hell down on my father and his men.
Where are you, Isa ?
My heart takes turns kicking and punching at my ribs as I move silently around the villa. The wine cellar would be the most secure location to keep a captive. It’s where I would take her. Hurrying to the back of the house where the door to the old cellar hides behind a tangle of bougainvillea, my fingers tighten around the grip, sweat slickening my skin. I take measured breaths, refusing to allow the knot of fear and fury lodged in my chest to control me.
I will find Isabella.
I will bring her home.
As I turn the corner, I find two guardians stationed by the entrance to the old cellar. That’s unusual. The pair stands stiffly on either side of the rusted metal door, each one with a gun already in hand. It must be for Isa. Unless my father has gone rogue, capturing some other new enemy.
“ Hai visto la ragazza?” The guard’s words about a girl halt my breathing . “è stupenda. La scoperei senza dubbio. Spero che il capo ci permetta di provarci prima di ucciderla .”
Fury rushes my veins as I hear the man’s disgusting words; he wants to fuck my Isabella. My feet are moving before I can stop them. I dart around the corner and train the barrel of my gun already equipped with the silencer at the second guard’s head. I squeeze the trigger, and the guy crumbles to the floor before I lunge at the one who made the repulsive comment about Isa.
I need to feel the crunch of his bones against my fist, and the spurt of his blood on my knuckles before I kill him. I haul my arm back and let it loose. The crack of his nose sends a wave of satisfaction to the dark monster lurking beneath the surface. I hit him again and again, his head bouncing on the concrete.
“That’s my ragazza ,” I hiss. “You will never defile her with your dirty hands.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but I shove the barrel of my gun inside, cutting him off. I pull the trigger without a second thought, then leap up to my feet as deep crimson splashes my shoes. Wiping the blood off my hands on the guard’s black shirt, I search his pockets for the key to the cellar. Finding the key ring, I slip it into my pocket before sliding the pack off my shoulder to search for the lighter fluid. Dousing the two bodies in the pungent liquid, I light the match and race for the basement door.
The moment the thick metal slams behind me, I hear the rush of footfalls outside. Merda . An old chair is propped up against the wall, so I grab it and wedge it by the door. Hopefully, it’ll buy me a few more seconds. Killing those two men was not part of the plan, but I simply couldn’t control myself after what that stronzo said about my Isabella. And this is why I’m spiraling because without that control I’m nothing but chaos incarnate.
Get your shit together, Raffaele .
Forcing in ragged breaths as I traverse the dark hallway, I attempt to still my racing heart to listen for approaching guards. Once Papà’ s security team finds those bodies, they’ll come straight for Isabella. I lengthen my stride, eating up the distance between us in seconds. It’s as if an invisible tether is leading me straight toward her. She’s close, I can feel it.
The double doors of the wine cellar appear at the end of the corridor, and I slow, grisly memories of the past assaulting my subconscious.
“No, Papà, no, please, ti prego.” I’m on my knees in that damned wine cellar, begging.
He sneers down at me, nothing but pure malice in his dark glare. “It’s too late, figlio mio , her fate is sealed along with yours , traditore pezzo di merda.”
I blink quickly to chase away the terrible images that come next. I’ll die first before allowing that to ever happen to Isabella. I pause by the door, straining to make out a sound. Muffled voices seep through the cracks. Tiptoeing the final few steps, I press my ear to the old timber.
Two voices, one that has my heart thundering like mad.
Clutching my gun, I whip the door open and level the barrel at my brother.
“Raf!” Isabella cries, and all the air squeezes from my lungs at the sight of her. Alive. Her expression falters as she takes me in, excitement morphing into something darker. For a second, I forgot I must look like total shit with all the bloodied bruises.
It takes every ounce of restraint to remain still when all I want to do is run to her, pull her into my arms and never let go. Instead, I focus on my asshole brother and point the gun at his head.
“Relax, Raffa,” Giuseppe murmurs.
“Relax?” I bark, swinging my gun around like a pazzo . “You fucking kidnapped her, you pezzo di merda !”
He holds his hands up and takes a step back, only inching closer to Isabella.
“Get the fuck away from her,” I growl. I don’t dare look down at the floor, at the spot where Laura bled out as I held her in my arms.
“Okay, okay.” He backs off, creeping farther into the bowels of the cellar. “I had nothing to do with this, Raffa. You have to believe me.”
“I don’t have to believe merda . Now, don’t move or I’ll blow your fucking head off.” I reach for Isa, but something unreadable flashes across her face, and she doesn’t move. “Come here.” The hard line of my jaw softens as I regard her. “Please.”
“I—I just have to ask you something first.”
“Isa, we don’t really have a lot of time here.”
“I know that.” Still, she doesn’t move, only crosses her arms over her chest. Her typical move when she’s being stubborn.
“Okay, ask…”
“Did you know that your father orchestrated the attack at The Velvet Vault?” Her lower lip trembles, and a sliver of my heart just about snaps right off. “Did you know your father arranged to have you take Frankie’s place? Were you in on it the whole time?”
A stab of pain lances through my chest, worse than any bullet wound. “No, absolutely not. Dio , Isa, how can you even think that?”
“Your father said?—”
“My father is a fucking liar. He only said that so you’ll doubt me. Which clearly worked.” Cazzo , how could she have such little faith in me?
We remain there silent, locked in a battle of wills for much too long.
“You have to get out of here now,” Giuseppe barks, snapping me from the tense silence.
My eyes jolt to his. “Oh, so now you’re helping me?”
“I never condoned what Papà did to Laura, Raffa. You have to know that.”
Blood consumes my vision, dark crimson staining the stone floor, my fingers, my nails. Squeezing my eyes shut, I force the nightmares back. “Well, you didn’t do shit to stop him either or to stand with me back then. You just stood there and watched as he banished me from our family, from the entire damned city.”
“I’m sorry. I regret it every day, fratellino .” He creeps closer, a look so sincere in his eyes that I want to believe him. “I wish there was a way to go back and change things, but clearly, it’s too late for that. But it’s not too late to get you two the hell out of here.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek as indecision wars in my chest. How can I trust him after all these years?
“Please, Raffa, there’s no more time to waste.” Giuseppe surges toward the door just as heavy footfalls echo in the hallway beyond.
“ Merda ,” I hiss.
Isabella races to my side, her bare arm brushing mine, and the faint touch is enough to spur me to action. “He’s right, Raf, let’s get out of here. We can talk about all of it later.”
My head dips, and I reach for her hand tentatively. Her fingers weave through mine, and a wave of relief rolls through me.
But it’s short lived.
Giuseppe leads the way, darting out into the corridor. He pulls out a gun from his back pocket and turns toward the door to the courtyard. The one blocked by the torched bodies. “Wait,” I hiss as I slide my backpack down and reach for the lighter fluid once more. Even if the rest of the villa survives, I need to erase the existence of this room. Maybe then, I’ll finally be free of the ghosts. I douse the old wooden doors of the wine cellar then light a match, holding it tightly between my thumb and forefinger.
I pause, and my eyes latch onto Giuseppe’s from over the flickering flame.
Something unreadable flashes across his face, but an impossible moment later, his head dips. I flick the match into the air, and the entire door goes up in flames within seconds.
“Go!” Giuseppe shouts.