Chapter Nineteen #2
Nestore raised his brows. “That’s something I’m not very good at.”
“Sometimes you are kind to me.”
He tilted his head, the tendons in his hand holding the doorknob tensed. “You are the exception to everything.”
I swallowed at the look of adoration in his eyes, which quickly morphed to anger.
He turned and left, closing the door almost noiselessly.
Luciano stirred but didn’t wake. I stared for a while at the spot where Nestore had been, then lay my head back down on the pillow and closed my eyes.
I didn’t turn the lights off. In the beginning, after I escaped from the basement, I had preferred to wake to a brightly lit room, and sometimes I still did.
Niccolo slanted me a searching look when I sank into the passenger seat with a deep breath.
It wasn’t exhaustion that made me long for bed.
But having seen Amelia hold the little boy, I had wished to feel her body against mine.
Nothing calmed me like her presence. Hardly anything managed to rile me up like she did either.
“The police shot the male chimp when he attacked their cars, and the female chimp drowned when she tried to attack a Coast Guard boat,” Niccolo said as he steered the car away from the mansion.
I nodded. I hadn’t expected the chimps to survive. They had suffered in captivity, but they had been too traumatized for a life anywhere else. At least, now they had peace and got some revenge on humans before they moved on to the afterlife. “Any survivors?”
Niccolo scoffed. “The three bodies were nearly unrecognizable when the police recovered them. The chimps ate their faces off and ripped them apart.”
I smirked. That was the outcome I had hoped for.
“They’ll link it to us. They always know the craziest shit comes from us.”
“They won’t do anything about it.”
Niccolo huffed. “Remo will have some questions for you.”
“He wants me to spread fear, to act worthy of the name Madman, and I do. He’ll be happy I got rid of our enemies.”
“He won’t be happy we can’t question them anymore.”
I shrugged. “It got out of hand. He knows me.”
“Yeah, and I’m still surprised he never punishes you. You’re like his favorite pet.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“You know what I mean.”
“I’ll simply pretend you didn’t compare me to a pet.”
Niccolo sighed. “He’ll know you did it for her.”
My hands curled into a fist. “I did it for her, but I also contained a threat to the Camorra. Remo will be pleased.”
“Everyone sees you’re different with her. Don’t you worry that Remo will think she’s too powerful?”
“Remo and I talked about Amelia, and he’s decided to accept my bond with her.”
Niccolo scoffed. “I told you, you’re his favorite pet.”
“And you’re mine. That’s why you still live despite all the enraging things you say.”
Niccolo snapped his mouth shut and locked his jaw. At least he finally shut up.
When we pulled onto the airstrip of the small private airport, the private jet was already parked there, but the doors were still closed.
I got out when the door opened. A tall bodyguard scanned the area and gave me a nod before he began his descent, followed by Flavia Lamorgese.
I didn’t know what name she had picked as an alias, and it didn’t matter.
She couldn’t run from her last name, nor could Luciano.
Their blood determined their future. They were as inevitably bound to the Camorra as I was.
Flavia leveled her terrified eyes on me.
She didn’t know about the fate of her boy yet, only that the exchange had happened a few hours ago.
She didn’t wear makeup and wore her hair in a short bob, very unlike the woman I remembered.
Her thick coat and boots were better suited to the weather in Minneapolis than in Los Angeles.
Maybe she still thought she’d return to her apartment.
I had already told my men to start moving her few belongings from the place, and they had packed them into two small bags inside the jet.
When the bodyguard moved aside, Flavia rushed toward me, her face twisting with despair. She stumbled against me, her fingers grabbing my fur coat. “Is he safe?” Her eyes brimmed with tears.
I removed her grip from my clothes, not fond of her closeness. “He is in Romano Manor with Amelia. He’s physically unharmed except for a few scratches and bruises. I can’t attest to his emotional state, though.”
She let out a high-pitched sob and threw her arms around me. “Thank you.”
I stiffened. My pulse spiked, and the need to lash out brutally rose in me, but I simply gripped her wrists and pushed her away. Niccolo wrapped an arm around her and pulled her away. “Let’s get you into the car so you can get to your son.”
He slanted me a cautious look, and I gave him a grateful nod. The sound of a jet taking off from another airstrip made Flavia jump, as if someone were about to attack us.
Niccolo steered her toward the back door.
I sat down in the front with Flavia in the back seat. On our way to the manor, I fixed her with a hard look in the rearview mirror. “You won’t be returning to Minneapolis, and you won’t leave Los Angeles without my permission ever again.”
She swallowed but gave a terse nod. She looked like she would have agreed to anything at that moment. It usually took hours of torture to get people to this point, but I supposed she would have gladly suffered torture to save her son.
“You and your son have a target on your heads, even if you change your name or pretend you’re a bartending single mom. This poses a threat to the Camorra and Amelia’s happiness, which is why I can’t allow it.”
She tilted her head with a puzzled look. “How’s Amelia?”
“You can ask her yourself,” I clipped. “I expect you to move into the house I pick and accept the bodyguards I send you. You won’t work unless it’s something I approve, and you’ll get the money you need to live a luxurious life.”
“I don’t have to move back into the manor?”
“No, it’s Amelia’s and my home.”
She smiled in a way that suggested she wasn’t happy at all. “I doubt Amelia sees it as that. She despises that place as much as I do.”
I gritted my teeth. “Your opinion on the matter is of no importance.”
She pressed her lips together and leaned her head against the window, wrapping her arms around herself. “Just tell me that you made them suffer.”
“Your husband’s chimps ripped them apart,” I said.
Her eyes grew wide, then a small smile played across her face. “Good. Those beasts terrified me. I know these men had horrible last moments. I wish I could have seen it.”
“There’s footage of their ripped-apart bodies on almost every news station. Search the internet,” Niccolo said.
Flavia smiled. “I’d like to see it later.”
Niccolo raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t expect you to take me up on the offer.”
“I was Achille’s wife.”
Flavia and I exchanged a look. She, too, had suffered under Achille Lamorgese’s hand, which was why I didn’t dislike her as much as I should for helping Amelia hide from me.
“You are his wife,” I reminded her. “He’s still alive.”
Her face fell, eyes lighting up with dread.
“He’s as good as dead, and not even a sliver of the man he used to be. I can declare him dead if you want to be free of him officially.”
“Yes, that’s what I’d prefer,” she pressed out. Her eyes searched mine as if she hoped to find an answer in them. “Amelia wants him gone.”
I looked away before my rage could make me lose control. Flavia didn’t say anything else. Maybe she realized the danger she was in.
After we arrived at the mansion, Niccolo and I led Flavia toward the guest bedroom. He probably wanted to make sure she didn’t touch me again.
I knocked, then opened the door. The room was still brightly lit as it had been when I’d left.
Amelia lifted her head, her eyes heavy with sleep.
The moment she spotted Flavia, her face crumpled, and she started crying.
Flavia rushed in and hugged Amelia, then lay down beside her sleeping son and kissed his entire face.
Amelia gave me a quick smile before she looked back at Flavia. She probably wouldn’t join me in bed tonight.
I closed the door.
“That’s the family reunion I would have loved to have,” Niccolo said with a chuckle.
I frowned at my cousin. “When I first saw you, I wasn’t sure if you had betrayed me. Count yourself lucky I didn’t kill you.”
Niccolo sighed. “All right, all right. I guess you not killing me is good enough then. Get some sleep. You look like death warmed over.”
He turned and left.
I leaned against the door. Returning to our empty bedroom didn’t sound enticing at all. There was no way I would find any sleep without Amelia beside me.
Pushing away from the door, I headed into the basement instead. Lamorgese needed to hear the good news of his nephew’s brutal death.
Lamorgese jerked away when I reached his cell. He struggled into a sitting position on his cot and eyed me fearfully. His patchy beard was matted in places, and strands of unwashed hair stuck to his forehead.
“Your pet chimps ripped apart your nephews and his accomplices.”
He didn’t say anything. “I hope the boy died too, so my whorish ex-wife suffers the rest of her life.”
I cocked an eyebrow at his cruel words. Not that I had expected anything less from a man like him. “The boy’s your son too, but I reckon that doesn’t mean much to you. You only love yourself, don’t you?” I leaned one shoulder against the bars and crossed my arms over my bare chest.
“Don’t talk about love as if you know what it is.”
I moved my hand toward the lock, causing Lamorgese to fall silent and wince. Smirking, I dropped my hand. “Your son is fine, and so is your wife. She sleeps upstairs in one of our guest bedrooms and was happy to hear that you are suffering.”
“One day, all of you will die.”
“True, that’s the usual course of events, but I assure you, you’ll be long dead by then.”
“Will I? When are you ever going to kill me?” The tremor of longing in his voice brought a smile to my face. I, too, had experienced moments when I longed for death while in Achille’s hands, and it was gratifying now that the tables had turned.
“You haven’t begged me enough for death. Maybe next time I spend some quality time with you, you’ll give it another try.”
I turned on my heel and left.
“She doesn’t love you, you know? You’re too monstrous to love.”
I faltered in my steps but then continued up the stairwell.
Even after all this time, even when I held the power over life and death in my hands, Achille Lamorgese still managed to wound me with words.
No matter how much he cried and begged when I tortured him, he always managed to remind me of the boy who’d been helpless.