Chapter 8 #2
My eyes finally focus when I notice a small puddle of semen on the floor.
“Oh, stupid dick. He is so disgusting.”
Still mumbling bad words, I exit the walk-in closet, and without the slightest hesitation, I storm out the door.
CALLUM
The evening breeze rolls in through the open patio doors.
I pick up my glass of wine and walk out, welcoming the quiet humming of the night and the smell of the sea.
Every place has its own characteristics. I love Long Island more than anything in the world, but when I travel overseas, like now, and visit this part of Italy, the rich history of the place sits atop the present reality, adding a new layer of charm and flavor.
Interesting evening, I have to say.
Although engrossed in the beauty of this place, I can’t stop thinking about the woman who had paid me a visit a few hours ago.
Was it out of the question for her to do something stupid like that?
No.
It seems like every time I’m around, Leilani Gallo spills out of herself and becomes a little unhinged.
Taking a sip of wine, I become aware of the soft tickling of a smile.
Unhinged fits her better than it had fit her mother.
There is something in this woman that she surely hadn’t inherited from her parents.
You’d probably need to dig deep in her ancestral line to find a woman like her, the perfect balance between power and softness.
I’ve never seen anything like that.
The powerful women in this life of crime are stern, abrasive, calculated, emotionally stunted, cold-blooded killers.
They’re pretty much like their men.
They have to be like that, or they wouldn’t survive. They’re capable of the most atrocious things.
Sometimes, they’re even more vile than their men.
Leilani Gallo is different.
She’s not cold. She’s a volcano.
She’s not void of emotions. She’s drowning in an ocean of them.
Her power stems from her passion and a strange type of integrity that she had no one to learn from.
That’s why I find it odd.
Where her family excels at lying and cunning games, she explodes with uncomfortable truths that she shouts at the top of her lungs.
Where her family fights for convenience and expediency, she picks the hardest paths to follow.
She is unmanageable in every sense of the word, and she’d stop at nothing to get what she wants.
When you have someone like her, broken yet fearless, living everything through her senses, raw and magnified, and driven forward by a sharp, strong mind, you have someone unbeatable.
Death doesn’t scare her.
Punishments don’t scare her.
Losing her freedom does. And she’d do bolder things than coming to me to preserve it.
For sure, living in the house with the Gallos has only sharpened her abilities, strengthened her will, and taught her even more patience.
I don’t know many people who would’ve waited quietly to get back in the game and then picked up where they had left off.
It feels like it was yesterday when we buried Bianca, and Leilani thought it was a good idea to wear something outrageous and drive everyone up the wall.
Her cry for attention was as much childish as it was rebellious. It worked, but it also drew the attention of those who weren’t on her side.
Her own mother didn’t have her back.
Enough said.
So seeing her today wasn’t exactly a surprise.
But seeing her all flushed, emotional, living on the edge, and fearing the future was more than unexpected.
It was transformational as it touched a chord with me and made me see her for who she truly was.
The stupid stunt she pulled with Maclean, on the other hand, drove me mad. I knew why she did it, but I still had a hard time swallowing it.
He and I haven’t talked since.
I can’t speak to him without letting out how I feel about her. I’ve already revealed too much.
It still makes me grind my teeth at the idea that she rubbed herself against my friend.
I see red every time I recollect that moment. Long legs, tiny shorts, her eyes seductive pools of madness.
She could’ve made men commit crimes. We were that close to that happening that night.
I liked her better today. She was all mine.
There was no distraction. No Maclean, no games. No provocations. Sex hadn’t been mentioned or suggested.
No territorial disputes.
It was clean.
Only she and I.
I loved that dress on her, the way she wore her hair, the way her eyes sparkled with tears, and her emotions.
She looked like a frightened little thing, and she broke me a little. There was nothing about her that I didn’t like.
In fact, nothing in my head could replace that image.
Her image stayed with me as I finished dinner, had social conversations at the restaurant, and drove Vittoria home.
Vittoria and I have never been what people think we are. It served both of us well and stopped people from talking rubbish.
As the wind sweeps the terrace, I’m still indulging in the innocent face of Leilani.
I see her as if she were here with me.
A few strands of hair blown by the breeze, a few tears scattered in the wind.
It pains me to admit that she is, unfortunately, an impossible dream at this point.
I don’t know what Giorgio plans to do with her, but it won’t serve her well.
Women are trading chips in this business.
No woman is allowed to exercise her right to self-determination, and if they attempt to do so against her family’s will, sophisticated structures of power are bound to collapse.
So they stop them.
The families control them.
It’s always been like that.
I take a seat at the patio table and set my phone down when it starts ringing.
Cosimo enters the patio as I glance at the name flashing across the screen and signal to him.
“They brought our man.”
He knows what he needs to do, so he turns around and walks down the stairs, enlivening the otherwise quiet house.
Soon after, he returns with the man in question.
I set my drink down and look at him.
“I’m listening.”
Leonardo is a fisherman.
He delivers fresh seafood to Leilani’s house every Tuesday and Friday.
His daughter works inside as a housemaid.
Unlike the other staff members, she leaves the house three times a week. He owes me a favor, and they’ve both been loyal to me.
Let’s say this isn’t the first time I’ve used them to gather information about what happens in Leilani’s house.
I know everything about how she's spent her days over the past two years.
It was sheer curiosity in the beginning, and then I was nudged by a pang of concern.
Maybe I hadn’t warmed up to her in the beginning, but I surely didn’t want her to do something stupid because of me.
I learned about her quirky ways, eccentric behavior, love of nature, and her habit of taking long showers with the windows open. I made sure someone in the house was aware of it, and every time construction crews were on the property, the men were directed to work on the other side of the house.
There may have been one or two instances when someone had gotten a glimpse of her.
I didn’t even want to think about it.
But having dead bodies buried in the backyard wasn’t the greatest option, so I let it slide.
It’s strange how I felt protective of her when no one else had.
The man in front of me takes a couple of steps forward.He’s in his sixties, his face sunburned from spending time outside fishing.
“She was followed by Julian Everett, and they had an argument on the outskirts of town. She arrived home alone, though.”
I shift my eyes to Cosimo and then back to Leonardo.
“That’s it?”
“That’s all I know. My daughter left earlier this evening. As she walked out, Julian strolled into the house and then onto the terrace, accompanied by a woman. They were all having dinner outside. Leilani Gallo was there too with her friend.”
“All right,” I murmur. “Thank you.”
I flick my chin in Cosimo’s direction, who reaches inside his jacket to pay the man for the information before he escorts him out, while I lean back into my seat, pondering what I just heard.
Muffled voices fill the rooms downstairs as I drape an arm over the back of my chair and look in the distance.
A big moon shines over the water, leaving trails of silver across the sea.
The town quiets down, and only occasionally, the soft laughter of a woman drifts through the air.
Several scenarios play in my head as I mull over Julian’s role in all this when a door slams on the first floor.
My first instinct is to flick my head in that direction and touch my gun. I rise at once and move into the house.
There’s a contingency plan for this type of situation. Anything out of the ordinary raises the alert level.
People exchange words on the first floor when another door gets slammed.
I turn around, take a different set of stairs, and reach the ground level in no time.
“What’s going on?” I ask, as the hallway comes into view, and Cosimo sends someone out.
He looks at me.
“Leilani is back in town. She approached one of our men and asked to be taken to you.”
“What happened?” I ask dryly, although a storm starts brewing in my chest.
“I don’t know, but something did. She seemed frantic.”
“Where is she now?”
“Piazza Duomo.”
“Bring her in,” I say quickly.
“Are you sure?”
“Damn sure. Bring her in,” I bark as I pivot and take the stairs back up.