26. Arabella
Chapter 26
Arabella
D ante reaches for my hand, interlacing our fingers. I honestly feel like I’m about to throw up as we make our way up the front steps of a place I once called home.
“Relax,” he whispers. “We need to act casual if we have any chance of pulling this off.”
“Okay,” I reply, gripping his hand a little tighter. He’s quickly become my anchor, holding me steady amid the impending storm brewing around us.
We don’t have a solid plan, but Dante wants Papa to think we’re here to share the news about our baby in person.
The last thing I want to do is share that news with him, but Dante is worried that if he thinks there’s an ulterior motive—like stopping the wedding between Lucia and Giuseppe—we’ll be lucky to make it inside.
One of my father’s men is guarding the front door, and I’m shocked when Dante extends his free arm and shakes his hand. “It’s good to see you again, Roberto,” he says.
Roberto’s shocked expression more than likely matches my own. My father acknowledges his men only when he’s barking orders at them.
“It’s good to see you again too, Mr Mancini,” he replies as he opens the front door and leads us down the long corridor towards Papa’s office. I have no interest in seeing this man, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my little sister.
We all pause when we reach our destination, while Roberto knocks on his door. “ Cosa vuoi (What do you want)?” Papa barks from the other side.
I can see nothing has changed in my absence. He’s still as rude as ever. Poor Roberto doesn’t even react to the way he’s spoken to. He’s probably used to it after all these years.
“ Hai dei visitatori (You have visitors),” Roberto replies.
My father doesn’t respond, but the office door abruptly swings open seconds later. Papa’s brows shoot up in surprise when he sees us standing there, but his expression hardens as he speaks, his eyes narrowing accusingly. “Dante … Arabella, what are you doing here?”
Dante’s hand gives mine a brief, reassuring squeeze. “We have news,” he replies.
“What news?” he asks, his cold gaze momentarily shifting to Roberto. With a sharp flick of his hand, he dismisses him. “Leave us.”
I’ve always known Papa to be a despicable man, but after living with Dante and witnessing the kindness he shows to his men and those around him, it’s only now that I truly understand the depths of my father’s cruelty.
Dante clears his throat, clearly unimpressed as well, before answering. “Your daughter and I are expecting.”
His gaze drops to my stomach, then snaps to my face. “You’re with child?”
“Yes, Papa.” The intensity of his look as he sizes me up is overwhelming. Once upon a time, I would’ve felt the instinct to shrink back, but with Dante by my side, I have a strength I’ve never known before. “We only found out a few days ago and wanted to come here and share the good news with you in person.”
His gaze shifts from me to Dante, and then he does something completely unexpected … something I haven’t seen in a very long time. He smiles. Not the usual cold, calculating grin, but a genuine, bright smile that lights up his entire face.
Dare I say he looks handsome when he smiles like that? I can easily understand why my mother would’ve fallen for him all those years ago. It’s a shame it’s all just surface-level because what lies beneath is truly despicable.
He reaches out to clasp my husband’s free hand. “I knew I made the right decision in choosing you. You come from good stock; your parents produced only boys. I can only hope my daughter doesn’t take after that useless mother of hers, and I’ll finally get my male heir.”
His words cut me to the bone as my teeth painfully dig into my bottom lip in an attempt to bite back a snarky response. Mamma deserved so much better than this man.
My eyes dart to Dante when I feel his body stiffen beside me. I hear a low growl emanate from the back of his throat, but I’m grateful he doesn’t express how he truly feels.
Papa gestures for my husband to enter his office. “Come, let’s have a drink. We need to celebrate.”
“I’m going to tell Lucia the good news,” I say.
That has Papa freezing. “Go,” Dante encourages, ignoring my father’s reaction. “Take Romeo with you.”
“Who is this man?” Papa asks, turning back towards the doorway.
“He’s Arabella’s personal guard,” Dante lies.
“He can stay down here,” Papa grumbles.
“Romeo goes wherever my wife goes. She has precious cargo on board. He’s been instructed not to leave her side when I am not with her.”
Papa blows out a frustrated breath. “Fine,” he replies, flicking his hand and dismissing us both.
“Come,” I say to Romeo as I head towards the staircase that will lead us upstairs to Lucia’s bedroom.
When we reach the landing, I notice another guard stationed outside her room. I hate that she is a prisoner in her own home, but I’m also thankful she’s here and that she’s okay. I wasn’t sure what we were going to find when we arrived.
As we approach, I see it’s Elio, one of my father’s most feared men. That makes my stomach sink. There’s something off here.
I stop in front of him, where he’s leaning against the wall beside Lucia’s bedroom door, glancing down at his phone. “Move,” I snap.
“No,” he barks in reply, not even bothering to spare me a look.
That comment garners an instant reaction from Romeo. He pulls a gun from the back of his pants and points it straight at Elio’s face. “I believe the lady said move.”
That gets his full attention, as Elio slowly lifts both hands in the air, stepping to the side. The murderous glare he gives Romeo as he does doesn’t go unnoticed. Papa will not be happy when he hears about this.
I reach for the door handle, jiggling it. “Why is her door locked?”
Elio lifts one shoulder. “It’s probably locked from the inside.”
I raise my hand, banging my fist loudly on the wood. “Lucia, it’s me … are you in there?”
My heart breaks when I hear a muffled sob from inside her room. The next few seconds are a blur of movement as the door flings open, and my little sister collapses into my arms.
“Lu-Lu,” I choke out as tears rise to my eyes. “I’m here, I’ve got you.” I have never seen her so distraught before.
I give her a few minutes to let it all out before I draw back and cup her face. The moment I do, I release an audible gasp. She rushed into my arms so quickly that I failed to see the bruises on her face.
“What the fuck,” I hear Romeo growl from beside me .
“Lucia, who did that to you?” I ask.
“Papa thought it would bring me into line,” she replies, straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin. “It won’t. I would rather die than marry that madman.”
“Oh, baby,” I murmur, stroking my hand over her hair. Her left cheek is bruised and swollen, and there’s a cut on her lip. The sight of those injuries sparks a surge of anger deep within me. I want to kill my father for putting his hands on her. “Are you injured anywhere else?”
“I think my wrist is broken.”
I look down and see her cradling it against her chest. It’s swollen and clearly painful. “Papa broke your wrist?” I ask in shock.
He often manhandled us growing up, but this is on a whole other level. The guilt I feel for not being here to protect her is palpable.
“No, he did,” she replies, flicking her chin in Elio’s direction. “He tackled me to the ground when I tried to escape.”
I’m so consumed with my sister and her injuries that I don’t even realise what’s happening until the sharp bang rings out like a thunderclap in an otherwise silent room, and Elio falls to the floor with a sickening thud.
Romeo didn’t even hesitate, shooting him right between the eyes. I’m so stunned by what just happened that my only reaction is to quickly pull Lucia’s face against my chest in an attempt to shield her.
When I glance down at Elio’s lifeless body, I find myself struck with the chilling reminder of the Mafia’s ruthless justice. For a fleeting moment, I feel like an outsider, torn between the false reality I’ve created while living with Dante and the violence that taints every corner of his world.
Obviously, the gunshot is enough to get everyone’s attention. The heavy thuds of footsteps coming up the stairs have me turning in that direction.
Of course, my husband is the first to appear on the landing. There is a gun tightly clasped in one of his hands as his chest rises and falls rapidly, each breath coming in shallow gasps as he struggles to draw air into his lungs.
His eyes scan me from head to toe, making sure I’m okay before he even notices the body on the floor.
“What the fuck happened here?” he asks as his eyes zero in on Romeo.
“He broke Lucia’s wrist.”
As shocked as I am by what just happened, I love that he put his own well-being on the line to protect my sister like that. My father is not going to take too kindly to this, though. Elio was one of his favourites.
Dante tucks his gun into the back of his trousers as he closes the distance between us. “Are you okay, Bellezza ?” he asks.
“Yes, but I need to get Lucia to a doctor.”
His gaze shifts to her next, taking her in with a quick, assessing glance. His shoulders tense as he tries to keep his composure.
When his attention moves to Romeo, he doesn’t hesitate to give him an order. “Take the women to the car while I sort this mess out.”
Romeo lifts Lucia into his arms, and despite the chaos that’s unfolded, I can’t help but notice the way her cheeks flush and a smile spreads across her face as she gazes up at him with what I can best describe as awe.
Both men begin moving, stalking towards the staircase with long, purposeful strides, so I follow, but if Dante thinks I’m going to leave him here on his own to deal with my father and the fallout, he’s mistaken.
Papa is waiting at the bottom of the stairs as we descend. The first thing he asks is, “Where is Elio?”
“Dead,” Dante replies matter-of-factly.
The fury on my father’s face is unmissable as his olive skin turns to bright red .
His icy gaze moves to Romeo. “You dare come into my house and kill one of my men.”
“He broke your daughter’s wrist. I should offer you the same fate for the bruises on Lucia’s face.”
My father rears back like he’s been slapped, and as much as I like that Romeo isn’t afraid to stand up to him, he really shouldn’t be poking the bear right now. Papa is not Dante; he has zero compassion.
“Put my daughter down,” he bellows. When he reaches out to grab her, Romeo shifts Lucia out of his reach. “Touch her again, and I’ll follow through with my threat.”
“Take her to the car,” Dante commands.
“She is not going anywhere,” Papa retorts.
“She needs medical attention for her arm.”
“I’ll have my doctor visit the house.”
“I don’t believe you,” Dante says, calling my father out.
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you believe. She’s my daughter; you have no say here.”
“She’s an adult, and the fact that she was locked in a guarded room for God knows how long with a broken limb means you lost the opportunity to get her the help she clearly needs.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Papa growls.
Dante flicks his chin at Romeo to keep walking. “Go with them, Arabella,” he orders when I remain rooted to the spot.
“No!”
“I’m not fucking around here, do as I tell you.”
“I’m not leaving you here with him,” I say, gesturing to my father.
This has Papa laughing. “She’s dictating to you now?” He shakes his head in disgust. “I never envisioned you’d be the type of man who’d so easily become pussy-whipped by some pathetic cagna (Bitch).”
That has Dante pulling out his gun at lightning speed and aiming it at my father. “Disrespect my wife again, and Romeo will be the least of your worries.”
Papa’s murderous gaze moves from my husband to me. “I don’t know why I ever wasted my time on you and your sister; you’re both as useless as that stupid mother of yours.”
“The only stupid thing Mamma ever did was marry you,” I retort, unable to keep my mouth shut this time.
My father strikes so fast that neither Dante nor I see it coming, but the second the back of his hand connects with my face, causing my head to snap backwards, my husband pounces, grabbing Papa by the throat and shoving him up against the nearest wall.
“I fucking warned you,” he sneers, shoving the gun into the side of Papa’s head.
“I suggest you kill me now. Because if you don’t, you won’t make it out of this house alive.”
Dante tightens his grip on my father’s throat, causing Papa’s eyes to bulge from his head. When he cocks the gun, I know what is about to happen, and it doesn’t worry me in the slightest. As far as I’m concerned, it’s been a long time coming. But …
“Don’t,” I say, placing my hand on Dante’s arm.
“You heard what he said, it’s either him or me.”
“I’d never let him harm you, but a bullet is too good for him.”
“Do you want me to snap his neck?” he asks, and I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation.
“No, I have a better idea.”
I round them both and enter my father’s office. My heart is pounding in my chest, each beat so loud and rapid that all I can hear is the relentless thump , thump , thump echoing in my ears.
I’ve waited years for this moment, for the chance to make my father pay for what he did to my mother, and now, standing here, I can hardly believe it’s finally come. I’ve replayed this day in my mind countless times, each version a little different, but the same burning desire for revenge at the core of it all.
The first thing I see is the bottle of scotch on the table and the two glasses beside it, from where my husband and father were celebrating my pregnancy minutes ago.
I grab the bottle, and with a shaking hand, I open the top drawer of his desk. I move the cigars to the side, searching for the matches I know are buried beneath them.
When my fingers brush over the small box, I quickly grab them and head back out to the corridor before I lose my nerve. I know I’ll never get the chance to exact retribution again, so I’m not about to let this moment pass.
I’m doing this for that ten-year-old little girl who never got over the carnage she witnessed through the window that day. And for Mamma and Lucia. My sister will never be free of my father’s evil as long as he’s still living.
There’s a darkness that has been growing inside me for the past ten years. It’s cold, heavy and sometimes suffocating. It took root the moment Papa lit that match.
At first, it started small, a quiet seed of rage and confusion, but over the years, it has festered and grown, constantly feeding on my pain … on my loss. It’s a hunger, a gnawing void that never quiets, always there, lurking just beneath the surface.
It twists my thoughts, pulls at my heart, and makes me feel like I’ve been living in the shadows for far too long. The need for vengeance has consumed me. The darkness is no longer just a part of me; it is me.
Dante’s eyes widen as I lift the bottle in my hand, pouring the contents over Papa’s head.
My gaze locks with my father’s. I don’t need to speak a word; he knows what’s coming. I see it in his eyes. It’s something I never thought I’d witness … fear .
I take a step back, followed by another, just like he did all those years ago and pull out a match. “Move back,” I say to Dante, surprised by how cool and calm my voice is.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Bellezza ?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Hand me the match and turn around and walk out. I’ll do it. I’ll willingly carry the burden for you, amore mio (My love).”
It’s at that very moment I finally find the clarity I’ve been searching for. Dante’s confessed his love for me twice now, and I’ve never said it back. Not because I didn’t feel what he felt, but because I wasn’t sure if he truly meant it. The first time he said it was when he found out I was carrying his child, and a part of me couldn’t help but wonder if it was the idea of what we had created together that he loved … not me.
Not only did he risk his alliance with my father by coming here to save my sister, but he was also willing to shoulder the weight of what I was about to do, so I didn’t have to live with the burden. That speaks volumes, and I now know with absolute certainty that he means it when he says he loves me because I would do the same for him.
My eyes dart to my husband for the briefest moment, and as much as I appreciate his offer, there is no way I’m going to accept it. My resolve remains strong. “Let him go, and step back … please,” I instruct, my voice controlled and calculated.
This time, he doesn’t falter. He lets go of Papa’s throat and takes two steps backward, coming to stand beside me. I see it in my father’s eyes the second he decides to make a run for it, but he doesn’t get far. We are blocking his exit towards the front door.
I strike the match and throw it in his direction just as he turns to flee towards the back of the house. I hold my breath as I hear the intense whoosh of flames exploding to life. The alcohol catches with a hissing roar, igniting his hair and the fabric of his suit within seconds. A rush of heat and light passes through the air as the flames spread swiftly .
He falls to his knees, and the blood-curdling scream that rips from the back of his throat doesn’t send chills down my spine like it did the day I witnessed him murder my mother.
I cover my mouth and straighten my shoulders as the scent of burning flesh rises in the air.
Reaching for my husband’s hand, I lace my fingers through his.
“I’m glad my child will never get to know you. I hope you burn in hell for all eternity, you lowlife piece of shit.”