Chapter 7 #2
‘Someone?’ Cesare is silent for a beat too long. ‘Jesus. Don’t tell me it’s her.’
I don’t respond.
His breath comes out ragged, furious. ‘Fucking hell, Rafa. Tell me you didn’t kidnap Maddie’s sister? You were supposed to watch her. Report back. Nothing fucking else.’
‘You act like I’m a puppet dancing to your strings. Am I?’ I let him catch the glint of the blade in my voice. He knows what that means. Hell, he’s wielded it via me for the famigghia countless times.
And that’s the crux, isn’t it? He was born to lead. Groomed, primed, anointed. I was born to follow orders. Clean up the mess and be the blade, never the hand holding it.
I gladly accepted that role. Went the extra mile to create a niche for myself so it mattered more. So it didn’t feel like the spare was just a simple, ordinary tool but an exceptional one.
And whether my brother likes it or not, I also remember the vow I made at Mama’s grave – that I wouldn’t rest until she was avenged.
So what the fuck are you doing, making deals with Sofiya Mancinelli?
‘Just… make it make sense a little? If for nothing else so Orazio doesn’t cut off my balls when I have to explain it to him. He already blames me for how lax I am with you breaking ranks, especially more than usual these days.’
I snort but not altogether kindly. Because it is partly Cesare’s fault.
Granted, he’s protecting his wife and the siblings Maddie loves, but still…
I can’t help if I’m deeply aggrieved it’s at the cost of my rightful and righteous vinnitta.
‘Long story short? She came after me first. I practised restraint and spared her life. You’re welcome. ’
‘Oh, well done. That’ll look great on the family Christmas card.’ He’s yelling now.
Icy fury rolls through me, an avalanche of packed emotions crackling, seeking a trigger to rain carnage. ‘You calling me a quarara, black pot? Didn’t you throw out the rule book with some outlandish shenanigans with the sister you now call wife?’
‘And look how close I came to blowing everything up. We barely came out the other side alive. You know what kind of shit that could stir up!’
‘You don’t think we’re long past stirring? El Topo flipped on the fucking woodchipper when he tried to blow your head off in front of your wife at your own wedding,’ I snap, pulse spiking. ‘Don’t act like I’m the unhinged one here.’
‘She’s pregnant, Rafa. Pregnant.’ His voice breaks around the edges, raw in a way I haven’t heard since the day we buried Mama. ‘And yes, every day that bastard walks free, I wonder if he’s out there planning to finish the job. But you holding Maddie’s sister hostage is just gasoline on the fire.’
‘Which is why I’m going to find him,’ I bite out, straightening at the sound of water turning on in the bathroom.
‘What?’
‘I didn’t stutter, brother. It’s either I find Giada for the answers I need or go after El Topo. And I know how you feel about me looking for the sister.’ Forgiveness, not permission, I affirm silently.
‘Go after El Topo,’ Cesare growls, as I knew he would, but after a beat, he adds, ‘Are you sure it’s for the family or because you’re pursuing your own ends?’
‘Fuck you, stronzu.’
The silence between us stretches, thin and dangerous. I can feel his eyes on me even through the call, that old steel-cut gaze he used to give me when we were kids – when I took extra glee in rearranging some shithead’s face or took a beating from Orazio meant for him.
What the fuck are you doing, Rafa?
He’d never understood then that I welcomed the pain, and still doesn’t.
That violence brought an inexplicable high.
One I’ve accepted I’ll chase for the rest of my time on this earth.
That it’s the only thing that ever made me feel real, more than a shadow behind Cesare, more than the spare son with nothing but blood on his hands.
‘You and Nonno asked me to keep an eye on her. Things have fallen this way. Besides, she might be the only way to Bonafacio,’ I say at last. ‘So unless you’ve got a better plan, maybe don’t burn the only lead we’ve got.’
Cesare doesn’t speak. I hear the subtle sounds of him pulling himself back, checking the rage, tucking it behind the mask he wears so well.
Finally, he asks, ‘What’s the status on the dock shipment? And the Romano deal?’
‘Dock shipment’s delayed. Romano’s waiting for the go-ahead on product out of New Jersey.
’ I rattle it off because I’m still me. Still efficient.
Still loyal. That part of us doesn’t get to break, no matter what chaos surrounds the rest. I give him a full update on the Turks, Armenians and the new unexpected angle developing with the Triad.
‘Let’s go slow with the Triads. Those fuckers are nuts, and yeah, I know saying that to you is exactly as ridiculous as it sounds but—’
‘Yeah yeah, I get it. And stop calling me names. You’re hurting my feel—’
I stop when hear it then – the soft click of the bathroom door opening. My head turns instinctively.
Sofiya steps out. Damp hair. Wearing my shirt. Caution and calculation in her every movement like a panther pretending not to stalk.
Fuck she’s sexy. And that little bathroom scene is going to feature in top billing on my spank bank list for all eternity. Unless I replace it with something even hotter.
Goals and aspirations, for the win.
Cesare hears it too.
His voice drops. ‘Is she there?’
‘Sì.’
‘Watch your back, frate. You’re a fucking shithead pain in my ass, but I’d hate to lose you.’
‘She’s not a threat right now.’
‘She’s a Mancinelli, Rafa. They’re always a threat.’
I don’t bother to call out the obvious because to Cesare, Maddelena is now a Salvatore, not a Mancinelli. In his eyes, his beloved has changed her every spot, from the inside out.
A year on from their Godfather-carnage-like wedding day, I haven’t made up my mind whether I pity my brother or envy the sheer balls on the fucker. A little from column A. A little from column B.
There’s a pause. Just breathing, and that old, choking space between us where Mama’s memory used to fit like a jagged tooth. One you worried with the tip of your tongue while nursing it like a loving friend.
‘She’d have hated this, you know,’ Cesare says quietly, intuitive as fuck. ‘You and me on opposite ends of a mess like this. Especially over them.’
I close my eyes. ‘Yeah. And fuck being opposite. We’re just—’
‘She made you promise to stay in control.’
Ah, now we’re in big guns territory. I don’t tell him I’ve got the biggest guns in any room. ‘I’m in control,’ I say, keeping my voice easy.
‘No, you’re in denial.’ Another pause. Then, ‘Come home soon, frate.’
He hangs up before I can answer.
Sofiya’s watching me like she can read everything in my face. Every crack. Every shake of my carefully kept foundation. And maybe she can.
Because for the first time, I wonder if the pulse, the fire, the maddening need to keep her close, is what Cesare felt when he was chasing Maddie.
But no. I shut that shit down hard.
I’m not him. And this Salvatore sure as hell won’t fall for another Mancinelli.
One was bad enough.
Two is… well, psychotic. And I should know.
According to my military file, I’m the biggest motherfucking psychotic this side of the planet.