Chapter 24 Gabriella
GAbrIELLA
It's been three days since I walked out of Marco's house.
His rage-filled expression still burns in my memory, making it difficult to read the contracts I’m reviewing for my father’s business.
I stare at the same paragraph for the fifth time, not absorbing a single word.
Focus, I tell myself.
Dad's been having more confused moments lately, making clarity on my end more important in managing the business.
But all I see is Marco's face when he found that pregnancy test. The shock. The betrayal.
I suppose it’s partly my fault.
I never actually said I was on birth control, but I knew he likely inferred that from what I had said to calm him down.
Was that a lie?
Maybe not technically, but I can see how he’d feel that way.
I’m not surprised by his immediate reaction, nor by the fact that he hasn’t made any attempt to contact me.
He didn’t try to stop me from leaving, hasn’t called or texted.
Nothing.
He just let me walk away, like he did last time.
Only this time, I’m pregnant with his child.
It’s what I expected as I packed my bag.
Marco Calabresi, perpetual bachelor, terrified of family and commitment.
But some foolish part of me hoped he might surprise me.
That the reality of a child’s existence would change him.
I drop my pen and lean back in my chair, fighting tears again.
Damn these hormones.
Or maybe it's just my broken heart.
Either way, I don’t want to give in to them.
Marco isn’t worth the effort if he’s the sort of man to abandon his child, let me pass the child off as someone else’s.
I have it all planned now.
I’ll talk to Luca when he gets home.
I won’t tell him about the baby, but I’ll tell him I need a break and want to go to Italy with him.
I give myself a few weeks there, going out and enjoying the Italian nightlife, and then “discover” I’m pregnant.
My family will be disappointed, but I believe they’ll support me like how Don Vitale supported Elena.
And if not, I have skills.
I can raise this child on my own if I need to.
Frank knocks at my office door, pulling me from my thoughts. "Don Monti is asking for you. I’m here to drive you to his office."
I nod, grateful for the distraction. "Let me get my coat and purse."
I gather my things and follow him down the hallway.
He opens the back passenger door with a tight smile. "Your father’s lucky to have you on his side, protecting him."
“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” I slide into the seat.
“It’s up and down.” He shuts the door and gets into the driver's seat.
We ride in silence until I realize that we’re heading away from my father’s office.
“I think you missed the turn,” I say.
"Your father isn't at the office." Frank's fingers flex then wrap around the steering wheel.
I frown. I swore he said my father was at the office. “So where are we going?”
“I’m surprised you don’t remember. You’re so dogged in protecting your father.”
I glance out the window, taking in the area.
Then it dawns on me.
We’re heading to a little-used warehouse of my father’s.
It’s the address I’d given Agent Blackwood at my meeting with him.
I check my watch, noting the date.
My heart stops.
Today is the date I gave Blackwood for the fake meeting.
How could I have forgotten?
My gaze whips to Frank as I try to make sense of this. Did my father forget this was a fake meeting and tell Frank about it?
Or… oh, God, could it be that Frank is the one working against my father and La Corona?
“My father is here?” I hope my voice doesn’t sound as nervous as I am.
Frank glances at me, his brow furrowed. “No. We’re here to find out what Calabresi has planned. To protect your father. I know you met with Agent Blackwood. Together, with his help, we can end Marco Calabresi.”
My heart is beating so fast I almost can’t breathe.
Frank is the mole?
It doesn’t make sense.
He’s talking about us protecting my father, so why would he be the one making the attacks on my father’s business?
I force myself to look confused. "That's ridiculous. Why would I meet with the FBI?"
The car slows to a crawl as we approach the warehouse. “It’s okay. We’re all on the same page here.” Frank's expression softens slightly. "We’re protecting Don Monti."
"You’re working with Agent Blackwood?” I ask, careful to keep my tone curious rather than accusatory.
Frank parks the car in the shadow of the warehouse. "Calabresi has been using your father for years. Now that your father’s mind is slipping, Calabresi will take what’s rightfully Luca’s and yours. I won’t allow that. Blackwood is a means to Calabresi’s end.”
I nod slowly, as if considering his words. "Why are you bringing me here? Shouldn’t you have your men instead?”
“This is a delicate situation. We’re just here to learn what Calabresi has planned and report back.”
My mind whirls.
There is no meeting.
It’s a story made up as bait for the mole.
"Will Blackwood be there?" I ask, glancing toward the warehouse.
Frank shakes his head. "No. This is just reconnaissance.”
It appears that Frank doesn’t know the information is false.
He thinks I'm genuinely working with the FBI to take down Marco.
I can’t decide whether that’s a good thing or not.
It also seems as if Blackwood bought it as well, except if that’s the case, why isn’t he planning to come and catch Marco in the act of some crime?
I force a smile. "Then let's find out what they're up to." I surreptitiously pull my phone from my purse.
My fingers fumble across the screen as I text a message to Marco.
Frank is the mole. Taking me to east warehouse. Doesn’t realize I made up the story.
I hit Send and slide the phone into my pocket, praying Frank didn't notice.
His gaze is scanning the area around the warehouse. “I wonder what hole he’ll crawl out of.”
Minutes pass with no vibration in my pocket, no reassuring ping of a response.
Did Marco receive my message?
Is he ignoring it?
The thought that he might have blocked my number after our fight makes my stomach clench with dread.
Another ten minutes pass.
"No one's here," Frank mutters, checking his watch.
His fingers drum against the steering wheel, the increasing pace suggesting he’s getting annoyed.
"They should have arrived by now," I say, trying to sound disappointed rather than relieved. "Maybe they changed the location."
Frank's eyes narrow. "Or maybe you had bad information.”
I swallow hard. "This was the address I heard. Marco was supposed to meet his captains here tonight to discuss the next move against my father's territory."
Frank stares at the warehouse, frustration etching lines around his mouth. "Something's not right. They should be here."
Without warning, he pushes open his door. "Let's check it out."
The last thing I want to do is walk into an abandoned building with one of my father’s enforcers. "Shouldn't we wait? What if they're just running late?"
"No." His voice hardens.
Frank circles around and opens my door, his grip on my arm firm as he helps me out.
I scan the surroundings, hoping to see Marco's men approaching.
Surely, he has someone watching to see who might show up to the fake meeting.
But the industrial area is deserted.
"Stay close," Frank orders, guiding me toward the warehouse.
I stumble slightly, buying time. "Shouldn’t you call your men? This isn’t exactly in my purview.”
We reach the warehouse door, and Frank pulls it open.
It’s dark and smells dank.
Movement sounds behind us.
Frank turns, pulling his gun out.
I see a man lurking at the side of the next building.
He pulls out his phone.
“Who the fuck are you?” Frank calls out.
“The one about to expose you—”
Frank fires and the man’s head jerks back. I let out a scream, covering my mouth.
“Wait here.” Frank trots over to the man.
Standing over him, Frank fires again.
My heart is beating so fast it’s almost like the beats are on top of each other.
Frank returns. “Let’s go inside.”
“M–Maybe we should leave.”
"Stay behind me," he whispers, keeping his weapon out.
We enter the cavernous space. It’s like walking into the universe—dark, cold, quiet.
“Who was that?” I ask.
“Don’t know. Don’t care.”
“But if he was here to meet Marco—”
“We’ll deal with Marco when he comes.”
I stare at Frank realizing he’s not planning to spy on Marco.
He’s planning to kill him.
Frank's expression darkens as he circles the space. His movements grow increasingly agitated.
"He should be here," he hisses, checking his watch. "The meeting was scheduled for 4:30."
I force myself to remain calm. "Maybe they changed locations. Or the time."
“Then who was that fucker outside?” Frank's eyes narrow as he scans the empty warehouse once more.
He turns to me slowly, gun still in hand.
"This doesn't make sense. Unless… this was never real to begin with."
I keep my expression neutral. "What do you mean?"
"Maybe Marco knew all along." Frank steps closer, studying my face. "Maybe he knew you were working with Blackwood and fed you false information."
I shrug. "Maybe. But then wouldn’t they be here to catch us in the act?” I’m pleased my brain is still working a little bit. “If that’s the case, we should leave before he arrives.”
“Maybe that’s who the dead guy was. The lookout.” Frank shakes his head and appears to process the situation.
Finally, he looks at me. “Why are you home? If Marco was still guarding you, keeping you close to make sure you weren't working against him, why would he suddenly let you go?"
My mind races. I can't tell him the truth, that I left because I'm pregnant with Marco's child and he wants nothing to do with us.
I need an explanation that makes sense, something Frank would believe.
“Christmas. I wanted to be home for Christmas.”
Frank's expression remains skeptical. "And Marco just let you go? After all his concerns about your being a liability?"
I nod, trying to look confident. "Maybe he wanted me out so he could enact his plan."
“Except he’s not here.” Frank stares at me for what feels like an eternity, his eyes searching mine.