Chapter 12 Francesca
Francesca
Ever since Armando and Alessio became inseparable as boys, he’s been like part of the family. It didn’t stop him from threatening to torture Cat and I earlier for information regarding Sofia’s disappearance before Alessio arrived.
“My cousin’s not here to stop you now,” I say, testing the waters as he drives me from the hotel to the Vicini townhouse where my inquisition awaits. “I’ve known you all my life.” I don’t bother hiding the reproach in my tone.
Armando scowls at the traffic, his expression troubled, and I sense what he won’t say - he regrets his behavior. Made Men rarely ever admit fault. They consider it a sign of weakness. Strange that Carlo apologized to me three times earlier today.
“They’re going to torture me, Armando,” I say, swallowing hard and unable to hide my fear of pain.
“They won’t.”
“You’re only saying that to keep me from breaking down on you.”
Again, the scowl and troubled expression. “I’m giving you one piece of advice, Francesca – hiding things now won’t help you. Many of the men in that house will only see a girl when they look at you. Not all of them are in the habit of hurting girls… no more than I am.”
His voice is heavy with guilt but what I hear is not all of them. A chill runs through me, wondering about the ones who are in the habit of hurting girls.
I’ve pitied myself at times for suffering the consequences of my father’s actions.
But the truth smacks me in the face tonight harder than Da ever did – I have only lived as well as I have within the Trio because Silvio De Luca chose to protect his sister and her daughter when a sweet old man begged his godson to send us to Las Vegas that fateful day.
“Bring the cunt inside,” my uncle snarls when we get out of the car.
Armando stiffens beside me, but he obeys his Capo’s orders. I’ve always been a little scared of Silvio, but he’s never spoken to me this way. How could I have been so cavalier about offering Sofia my help? Ronan and Cat both tried to warn me.
I’m soon facing a room full of men, not a friendly face among them.
Rocco is here, looking like Christmas came early.
Terror sweeps over me, and I struggle to control my trembling.
Daniele Vicini sits behind a large desk, his fingers steepled together as he observes me with that wintry gaze.
I find myself wishing Carlo was here, but I'm not sure that would save me.
“Signorina, please take a seat,” the old Don decrees.
I perch on the very edge of a plain wooden chair that’s been placed in the center of the room. My uncle paces back and forth, his fury a ghost chasing his steps. “How long have you known your brother was alive?” he spits at me.
Armando’s words about the futility of hiding things prompts me to answer truthfully. “Since I returned to Reno after the wedding and he made contact with me.”
“How the fuck is that possible?” he asks Enzo.
Enzo pales and shakes his head. I actually feel sorry for him until he says, “The little slut may have seduced one of my guards. I’ll have them all tortured to see what they know.”
My mouth flies open to protest, but Silvio’s attention snaps back to me. “Did you plan this with him? To abduct my daughter?”
“No!” Oh God, they think Ronan wanted to kidnap Sofia, and I helped.
“Sofia didn’t want to marry Carlo and…” Total honesty, be damned.
Admitting that Ronan was plotting ways to get me and Mom to Boston won’t benefit me.
“I asked Ronan to help her. That’s all. Except I don’t think he got her away. I saw him outside the school alone.”
“Alessio confirmed he bumped into Ronan, and Sofia wasn’t with him. He didn’t recognize him at first with a beard and having only seen a flash of him on the street,” Armando adds, and I’m grateful for any support.
“A man we’ve believed dead, your own nephew, steals your daughter away the day before she’s to wed my son, but someone else wound up taking her instead, Silvio? Is that the fable we’re meant to believe? Or have you been concealing it from us all this time?” Don Vicini asks, suspiciously.
The tension in the room mounts, and my uncle is soon screaming that he’ll skin the men ordered to kill Ronan three years ago and threatening to burn anyone alive who had a hand in Sofia’s disappearance.
His irate pacing brings him closer and closer to me until he’s standing behind me, his thick fingers resting menacingly on my shoulders.
“You are my blood, but that will not protect you. I will break every bone in every finger if you don’t spill everything.
Then I’ll really go to work on you, little girl. ”
“There are other ways to get information out of women, Uncle," Rocco suggests. "Give me fifteen minutes alone with her. I'll make her sing." I know what my disgusting cousin wants. Uncle Silvio smirks at Rocco. I'm shaking so much, I can barely stay on the chair.
“Step away from her now, or I'll gut you both.” Heads turn at the newcomer’s threat. It’s Carlo, blowing into the room like a thunderstorm and holding a knife. I nearly weep with relief at the sight of him.
“She played a part in this, Carlo,” Uncle Enzo says. “Rocco's way wouldn't mean irreparable harm.”
Carlo's eyes narrow dangerously as he turns toward me. "It was my fiancée that was taken. I'll be the one to question her."
I gulp, all my hope draining away. He's not here to help me. He's going to hurt me.
"She lives and dies under my rule," Uncle Silvio argues, but the rest of the men look to their Don.
"You're in New York where I rule, De Luca. Get answers," Daniele tells his son with a flick of his hand.
Still holding the knife, Carlo tugs me out of the chair and throws me over his shoulder, the same way he did during the attack at the reception. Blood rushes to my face and the world spins. I can hear a few scattered chuckles as he carries me out of the room. My impending pain is funny to them.
By the time he slams a door shut and sets me on my feet in what appears to be the library, I'm dizzy.
It doesn't stop me from trying to run. I only make it three feet before his powerful arm loops around my waist, and he plops me down on a brown leather sofa.
I can't see the knife now, so I choose to fight, clawing at his face.
I don't manage a single scratch before he has both my wrists between his hands.
"Still more spirit than sense," he says, chuckling as he takes a seat.
"There are twenty-seven bones in the wrist and hand.
They say a fracture to the scaphoid… here, is the most painful.
" He presses lightly on the area of my wrist he means, but he's not hurting me.
"I want a few answers, and you will give them to me. "
"I don't know anything more than what I already said."
His thumb sweeps the inside of my wrist, an unexpectedly erotic sensation. "That was a lie, Francesca. Where was he taking her? Boston?"
How did he know that? "I…"
"Were you going, too? Don't test my patience," he prods as I chew on my bottom lip.
"Yes, Boston. No, I wasn't going because I was the distraction."
"And what a distraction you were. Why wouldn't he take his sister instead of Sofia?"
"I don't… he was…"
"Don't lie again. You're not that good at it. Where was he taking her in Boston?"
I scowl at him but answer truthfully. "I don't know. Our conversations were always very brief."
Another sweep of his thumb over my wrist and he nods. "Who was helping him in my city?"
"No one. Ronan planned it. He went to the school a few days ago and was able to look around. He told us what to do and where Sofia was to meet him once she climbed out the bathroom window."
"All because she didn't want to marry me," he muses. I can't tell if he's indifferent or just really good at hiding his emotions. Probably the latter.
He's still holding my wrists, and I have no more answers to satisfy him. "Are you going to hurt me now?"
"Hurt you? No, I won't hurt you. I'd much rather spend the night pleasing you," he replies with a devilish look.
"You plan to rape me like Rocco wanted to do, is that it?"
His demeanor shifts instantly, from teasing to cold anger. "Don't insult the one man who's on your side right now."
Without another word, he walks me back into the office where the other men wait. Armando blows out a relieved breath when he sees I'm not bleeding.
"That was very fucking fast," Rocco mutters. "She's still fully dressed. If you don't have the stomach for-"
The tension in the room skyrockets when Carlo pulls his gun this time, leveling it at Rocco's head. "Finish that sentence. Please," he says in an eerily calm manner.
Rocco throws up his hands in surrender, slithering back to join his father. Carlo then shares what I told him with the others.
“Find your daughter, De Luca. Meanwhile, Ronan Donnelly must be hunted down and made an example of,” Carlo's father decrees. I know better than to voice any protest, but I pray they never find my brother.
My uncle stares at me with pure loathing before turning away, forced to bow down to his Don. "My son will lead the chase."
“There is one more thing I’d like to add, Father,” Carlo says, holstering his gun again.
I can't say why my stomach flips watching that. “I, too, wish for Sofia’s safe return. However, I was promised a bride from the Las Vegas Trio two years ago, a girl from the De Luca family… and I mean to have her, whether or not Sofia is ever found.”
“But Gia is already married, and I have no daughters,” Uncle Enzo stammers.
Carlo doesn’t acknowledge Enzo. He’s too busy staring straight at me. Oh, holy shit.