Chapter 33 Alessio
Alessio
Calabria, Italy
Traveling light with phony passports, switching from railways to rental cars and back, even a wig to hide her blonde hair, I confess I’m impressed by Sofia’s dedication to her role as the runaway bride.
And I’m impressed by the level of strategy and planning involved by whoever it is that is helping her. If Caterina ever tried to run from me, I wouldn’t want this person on her side. The mere notion makes my chest tighten with anger and panic.
I was forever a few steps behind my sister in Toronto and then Zurich but perhaps her luck has finally run out. From the second-story room, I have a good view of the street. If my intel is accurate and she’s here, I’ll soon know it.
I pour myself a glass of wine while I wait, pondering the fact that the Morellis emigrated from Calabria to the States over a century ago. They still have kin here, an interesting coincidence.
Of course, that brings her to mind, my wife, who is never far from my thoughts.
I saw the fountain of Piazza Dogana last night.
Though nothing like the Bellagio’s impressive fountains, it still reminded me of the way Caterina’s brown eyes danced upon seeing the other for the first time and later the stars in the night sky of the Mojave Desert.
She teased me that night was as close to a honeymoon as she was likely to get.
I have more money than I could possibly spend and my wife never even expected a honeymoon out of our marriage.
Pulling my phone out, I decide to torment myself some more. “Jesus, what?” Armando grumbles irritably when he answers. His leeriness around me has faded again. Helps when there’s an ocean between us.
The sight of him touching Caterina… Even if he thought he was being helpful trying to scare information out of her, I really was ready to kill him that night when I walked in and saw him with his hands on her arms and their bodies far too close.
We haven’t traded punches since we were boys, but it’s a miracle our fight that followed the next morning wasn’t bloodier.
“You’re very possessive of a wife you would cheat on so casually.
” He wanted to provoke me. And he succeeded.
My split lip is still healing, and I’m certain he still bears my marks.
“Tell me what I want to know, and you can go back to sleep.”
“She doesn’t speak to me more than necessary. She’s still closeted with Francesca. They’ve barely been out of the room.”
“It’s been days now.” I can practically hear him shrugging through the phone at my desperation and feel like I’m on the verge of losing my shit. “Alright, just keep Rocco away from her.”
“I know my orders. Do you know what the fuck you’re doing?”
“Don’t test me, Armando. You’re a good soldier but-”
“Fine. Don’t worry. I know my place, Capo.” He spits the title out and maybe we’ll go another few rounds before this animosity between us is truly put to rest.
“Tell me if anything changes and… I want you to fetch something from my bedroom.” It’s childish but at least Armando doesn’t question me.
I hang up and start to dial her number before stopping myself. It’s the middle of the night there. She’s asleep or should be.
I made the choice to push her love away.
The next morning, I had made another one, the choice to let her hate me.
What might’ve given me some petty satisfaction only made me feel like shit the second it was done.
And, as the days have passed, I’ve felt even worse.
I’ve thrown myself into the hunt, telling myself it’s better that my wife hates me.
My heart is not convinced. These fucking feelings. I never asked for them.
Movement below awakens the hunter in me once more. The door I’ve been watching doesn’t open but a familiar face passes by it – Dante Morelli. Cold fury pumps through my veins. Why is he here?
Frankie said her brother was going to help Sofia escape but she doesn’t think it happened.
I knew I recognized that tall, bearded man with the reddish-brown hair.
Even with his beard, I should have recognized my half-Irish, son-of-a-rat cousin sooner.
If I had, we wouldn’t be in this mess. But, if Ronan Donnelly has managed to play dead for three years without detection until now, he sure as hell isn’t stupid enough to come to Italy to hide a mafia princess.
I believed Nico’s story after Caterina had calmed things down between us but Dante, that smug fucker, had kept antagonizing me about Sofia being missing. What if there was more to it than just him being an asshole?
I pick up the rifle by my side and find Dante through the scope, moving with him down the street. The beast inside me grows excited at the prospect of the kill. One shot to the head and he would cease to exist. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a brother for a brother.
Caterina’s teary face floats in front of my mind’s eye, but I swat it away like a gnat. I’ve never hesitated to kill a man. Nico took my brother. I could take his. Simple and effective. Revenge. Poetic in a twisted way.
Dante stops at a flower stall, speaking with the seller and choosing a bouquet. He’s buying a bouquet of flowers like some goddamn Romeo in Italy when he belongs in Chicago? What possible reason could there be for it unless it has something to do with my missing sister being here?
My finger hovers over the trigger.
Find Sofia and go home.
It might be easier with a live Dante talking but fuck that. I’ll kill the bastard and find Sofia without him.
But, Caterina…
I lower the rifle, unable to stomach the thought of her tears. I watch Dante Morelli walk further down the street until he’s out of range and out of sight, and I can’t keep denying certain things. My heart belongs to his sister. It has for far longer than I’ve wanted to acknowledge that.
Twenty minutes later, I disassemble the rifle, finish my wine and pack my meager belongings.
I knock on the door I’ve been watching, half hoping Sofia will answer and half dreading it.
An old woman does instead and I ask in Italian if she’s seen this girl, flashing a picture of my sister.
If her confusion and denial is feigned, she’s the best damn actress I’ve ever met.
Satisfied, I walk away, placing a call to book a flight home.
To hell with what my father wants. Sofia made her choice to run.
It’ll mean a certain degree of disgrace and fallout for the family, but we’ve suffered worse, and she knows her way home if she changes her mind someday.
I have a wife waiting for me in Vegas, and I don’t intend to spend any more time away from her.
If I didn’t know they’d wilt, I’d buy flowers from the same stall Dante visited to carry home to her.
***
Sixteen hours later, I’m disembarking at Harry Reid International when I get a call from home. Not from Armando and not from Caterina but from our home telephone line which no one uses except the servants and…
“Valdo?”
My little brother is whispering, making it difficult to make out his words in the noisy airport. “You need to come home, Alessio. Caterina needs you.” Every hair on the back of my neck is suddenly standing on end.
“I’ll be there in forty min-”
“That’s too long! You need to be here now. Father is going to hurt her.”
“Hurt Caterina? He’s… he came home?”
Our father said he’d stay in New York making sure the Vicinis kept the peace until Sofia was found.
I told Armando to watch over the girls but that was when I figured Rocco was the only potential threat there.
If I’d thought my father would change his plans, I would’ve skipped my trek to Europe in a heartbeat.
“I don’t think she meant to kill him, but he probably deserved it.”
“Wait… what? Valdo, who killed who? Where’s Armando? Tell him to-”
“Hurry home. He says he’s going to punish her.”
The line goes dead, and I try calling Caterina, Armando and even my father. No one picks up. A helplessness I’ve not felt since I was nine years old sweeps through me. ‘He says he’s going to punish her.’
He’s wanted this from the night he arranged my marriage, his fucked-up way of getting back at Nico for killing one of the sons he didn’t even truly love. My father knows nothing of love, only hate and greed, torture and lust. He’s nothing like my wife and… I’m not him either.
I didn’t even care what he wanted of me at the time, too blinded by my own desire for revenge. But I care now. The thought of anyone hurting Caterina drives me out of my mind. I race toward the exit, searching for a fast car to steal.