Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Apollo
After filling in my siblings about what just happened, while strategically omitting certain details, I distance myself from the noisy party to make a call.
The Island air is cooler and more crisp as time creeps deeper into the dark of night.
Shadows dance around the towering trees, bouncing off the countless number of twinkling lights that have been hung especially for today’s events.
I would find it relaxing if my suit weren’t still soaking wet.
Instead, the breeze is providing an unsettling chill, reminding me that I need to go change once I’ve settled this task.
Abramo answers on the third ring. “Why are you calling me during your sister’s wedding?” Translation: why are you calling me at all?
My fingers flex around my phone, threatening to crush the small device.
His voice alone could ruin my day. Abramo has always had a smug attitude and we’ve never meshed, not even in our youth.
The fact that we have a peace treaty is probably the smartest move our fathers have ever made.
We’d likely tear each other apart if left to our own devices.
Since we’re dropping pleasantries and pretenses, I’ll get right to it. “Yordan and Rayna Todorov won’t be returning to your territory. They’re protected by The Outfit now.”
A tense silence follows my declaration. I’m prepared for an argument, to hear him bitch about overreaching and breaking rules. I’m not prepared to hear him laugh.
“Yeah?” He chuckles. “And how does Federico feel about that?”
Oh? He finds that amusing, does he?
My lips twitch into a daring smirk. “He doesn’t feel much of anything at all anymore, I’d imagine. He’s gone for a swim, a lifelong one.”
“Is that right?” Abramo’s amusement is gone in an instant.
Yes, yes it is.
“Were you aware of his penchant for violently laying his hands on his wife?”
Another pause.
“I wasn’t.”
I believe him, annoyingly so. Abramo is a violent, sadistic fucker most of the time, but he isn’t a woman beater, nor does he endorse or approve of the trait.
But we both know his father doesn’t feel the same way. Something tells me that vile piece of shit was well aware of how Rayna was being treated. He either didn’t give a fuck, or even worse, he agreed that she was deserving because of who her father was—or simply because she is a woman.
The weaker sex, he’d claim.
I’d do unspeakable things to see that man bleeding out at my feet. “Suffice to say, they’re under Moretti claim now. Should I be expecting a problem on your end?”
There’s no hesitation this time, no pause to collect his thoughts or silence to portray contemplation.
He swears under his breath. “No. You can have them.”
“I wasn’t asking for permission.”
“Your superior attitude is going to get you killed one day,” Abramo warns, venom lacing every word.
“Perhaps,” I hum, unaffected by his spiteful prediction. “And perhaps you should use this as an opportunity to check on the women who are supposed to be under your protection.”
I doubt he’ll appreciate me scolding him like he’s a school child, but someone needs to do it.
If a woman in our territory was being abused by her husband, her father, or anyone in her family, she’d know to come to me or one of my siblings.
She’d know that we would remove the problem.
If you can’t keep the most vulnerable among your people safe, are you truly powerful?
“We both know The Casa Nostra doesn’t work that way, Apollo.” Not while my Father is still alive. I can practically hear the words he won’t say.
I consider my next words carefully. “Perhaps if you aim to change that, you’ll ask for assistance.”
Again, he laughs. “Assistance at a cost I refuse to pay?”
Seeing Romeo Giuliani dead would be more than enough payment. I wouldn’t even seek a favor in return. In general, because of our peace agreement, favors are typically exchanged without much struggle as it is.
“No cost. What’s a little assistance between friends, hmm?”
We aren’t friends. Not even close. But the message gets to him either way.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, voice devoid of any hint to his reaction or emotion. “Rayna and Yordan are released to you, and Federico’s family will be handled. You should remember to tread carefully. She’s a traitor’s daughter, she has more to fear than an abusive husband.”
Judging by the fact that she was so willing to be shackled to him, and her utter lack of trust in men, I’d say he might be right.
But does he know more than he’s letting on?
Has someone actively tried to harm her from the outside?
What were the circumstances that led her and Yordan to being in Casa Nostra custody?
Like fuck if I’m going to fish for information through Abramo.
I’ll have Remo start sleuthing for everything I need, and reach out to a few friends for details.
“I’ll keep it in mind. Ciao.”
I hang up the call before he can return the goodbye.
Blowing out a breath, my shoulder’s drop. I expected a lot more pushback, but I’m not entirely surprised our conversation went smoothly. Abramo may be a hot head, but he’s also smart enough to know that if I want something, I have the power to take it—with or without his approval.
I still can’t believe his father had the absolute gall to submit a marriage proposal for Jade on Abramo’s behalf. I would sooner wage war between our families than hand my little sister over to that horrid family.
“Something you’d like to discuss with me, son?” The unmistakable sound of my father’s voice meets my ears from behind.
“Eavesdropping in your old age, are you?” I drawl, spinning on my heels to meet his gaze. “Did you need to turn your hearing aids up to hear my discussion?”
Dante Moretti would never allow a man to speak to him with such blatant disrespect—joking or not. But I’m not simply a man to him, I’m his first child. His heir.
For me, he chuckles. “You get that snark from your uncle, and he’s not even here for me to smack him for it.”
Uncle Cesar has been gone for over a year now, and his loss still stings all of us to different degrees. Only recently has Dad been able to speak about him in such a casual, humorous manner. He’s learning to live without his brother after over four decades of existing side by side.
The fact that Cesar made it to forty-one before passing as an enforcer who dealt in blood and risk daily, is impressive.
But in a family like ours, where mafia life doesn’t typically take a lethal toll, it was still shocking.
Since we’ve been established for countless years, and have existed mostly in peace with the syndicates surrounding us, death doesn’t often come for us.
“I’m sure you could find someone willing to be smacked around by the Dante Moretti if you tried.”
“Funny,” he deadpans, crossing his arms. “Tell me what you’ve done, son.”
He speaks like he hasn’t already been updated.
My brothers can’t keep their mouths shut.
Dad isn’t upset, though. I don’t need to ask his permission to make a move, not when I’m years away from taking his place as Capo.
He expects me to act on the instincts and values he’s instilled in me.
He simply wants to hear the words come from me.
“I took in a couple strays.”
Arching a brow, he tilts his head. “And dropped a body in the process.”
A worthless body.
“He hit her.”
“Mmm,” my father hums. “And this her, are you interested in more than protecting her?”
I should have expected this line of questioning. There isn’t anything Dante Moretti wants more for me than a wife and a child. My lack of interest in rushing the process stresses him out to no end.
“She just became a widow twenty minutes ago.”
“And you rescued her from him,” he comments, smiling.
“She yelled at me for that very act.”
Surprise lights up in his eyes. “She did? She must be very brave, this…”
“Rayna,” I finish, knowing that he’s fishing. “Rayna and Yordan Todorov.”
His brows hike up. “Damyan Todorov’s children?”
“I believe so.” I’m more certain than ever. Abramo all but confirmed it.
“Poor things,” he mutters sadly. “Being attached to the name of a traitor is never easy.”
Most crime syndicates aren’t as reasonable or forgiving as ours. Dad would never dream of punishing children for the act’s of their parents. But plenty of made men would use a traitor’s family to set an example.
Of course, we have no mercy for those who actually betray us. We’d just never stoop so low that we’d blame their innocent flesh and blood in the process. You can’t choose your biological family, and so you should never be forced to pay for their crimes.
I grunt in agreement. “The boy is sixteen, he seems teachable.”
A fond smile graces my father’s lips. “Are you planning to mentor him?”
“I doubt his sister will make it easy.”
He lifts a questioning brow. “When has a challenge ever stopped you before?”
“You meddle more than Jade does, you know that?”
“I’ve given you more than a decade to pick a wife—to settle down,” he reminds me. “Trust me, son, you haven’t seen meddling yet.”
Glaring at him with halfhearted frustration, I cross my arms and sigh. “You need a girlfriend, or a hobby.”
He only chuckles. “Back at you, son. Back at you.”
My eyes threaten to roll like a petulant child’s. I should have seen that one coming.
“Now go get changed before you catch death.”
Huffing, I move to walk away. I was already planning to change, but Dante Moretti loves to have the last word.
“Oh, and Apollo?” he says, his deep voice laced with amusement. “I’m excited to meet this girl. I wonder if she’ll yell at you again, I think I’d like to see that.”
“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” I snark, continuing to stride away.
“You’re lucky it’s not. If I were in bed, you’d be stuck sitting at a wedding in your soaked suit, refusing to leave the area unprotected.”
Case in point, the last word.
It’s only mildly annoying how correct his assessment is.