Chapter Twenty-eight
As we touch down in Rome early next morning after a surprisingly short flight on Remus’ private jet—just seven hours, a blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things—I’m struck once again by the sheer scale of Remus’ influence. Leading a Mafia empire that few even know exists, he commands a level of secrecy and power that is both intimidating and awe-inspiring.
During the flight, Remus and Lucia took the time to educate me on the intricacies of dealing with the Senate and navigating the customs of the Russo family. Remus delved into details about the Senate that even Lucia seemed unfamiliar with, unsurprising given what she told me about them, emphasizing the importance of our upcoming meeting. And with the requirement to appear before the Senate dressed in togas, Remus sent my bunny to the back to get changed.
When she argued she didn’t want to leave me, he scoffed and promised not to harm me. It wasn’t until he was sure Lucia was out of ear shot, he told me the exact details of our meeting with the Senate. Before Lucia came back, he made me promise I wouldn’t tell my wife. It was the easiest promise I’ve ever made because all that matters is getting her out of all of this.
I know I should feel angry about the depth of her lies, but I can’t. Not when I know how much hinged on her relationship with me. It’s flattering, actually—in a fucked up way.
Although this is probably the entirely wrong thing to focus on, I can’t stop looking at how amazing my wife looks in the white toga. Instead of being loose, it’s form fitting and very revealing. It’s so long it hides her feet, but with a slit on the side that goes all the way up to her pussy. Luckily, it isn’t on display, or I’d have to punch Remus again.
It’s sleeveless, and adorned with gold jewelry near the neckline and shoulders. On the clasps are wolf heads that make it look like the wolf is biting into the fabric. No detail is accidental, and it shows. Lucia’s long, red hair hangs loose down her back, making it look like the toga is backless. And fuck me, now I’m hard. I’m hard while wearing a toga.
Unlike the one my sweet bunny is wearing, mine is short. Reaching just above my knees. It’s not as form fitting, but still tight enough it shows my muscles. Since I’m not a Russo, mine doesn’t have any gold or wolves on it, which I like.
Stepping off the jet, we are greeted by an impressive line of guards, each bowing respectfully to Remus and Lucia as they pass, a clear indication of the reverence and authority that Remus commands in this city.
“Why does Remus get to wear purple if we’re wearing white?” I ask when we’re inside the car taking us to the Senate.
“It’s tradition,” she says like that’s an explanation. When she notices my quizzical expression, she continues. “It’s the imperial color worn by the Head, or the Don, if you will. So, yeah, it shows his status.”
I suppose that makes sense, but since there’s nothing else to talk about, I ask, “Why does he need the color to show his importance? Don’t people know who he is?”
My sweet bunny gives me a wry smile. “The best place to hide is in plain sight. Many think they know Remus, but have only seen decoys. As far as I’m aware, only few here know what he actually looks like.”
As if on cue, Remus pulls a box out from under his seat. When he opens it, it reveals a white theater looking mask. A mask of deception, I think it’s called. Placing it on his face, he says, “The sheep don’t deserve to see the real face of the wolf. It just makes them complacent.”
Scoffing, I growl, “But you’re fine painting a target on Lucia by letting them see her?”
“It’s too late to hide her now. People have seen her for years before she made the deal with my dad.”
Taking my hand, my sweet bunny whispers, “He’s right, Sy. Besides, it’s to our advantage to keep them scared of Remus.”
I hear all too clear what she’s not saying; she’s expecting her cousin to save the day. But unlike her, I don’t have unwavering faith in him. I’ll admit, the more they told me on the plane, the more I understood how hard it is for Remus to navigate the Mafia empire. Upholding the laws and rules for all, without being able to favor those he actually cares about.
But just because I understand it doesn’t mean I forgive or condone it. He should make protecting Lucia a priority, and not use her to make an example.
As if sensing the change in my mood, my sweet bunny unbuckles her seat belt and crawls into my lap. I immediately wrap my arms around her, and turn her so her head is resting on my chest. No words are needed, we both know that this might be our last time together.
“If something happens, I want you to run away,” I murmur into her ear. “I texted Mickey on the flight, and he has… connections. He can help you, baby.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not going anywhere without you, Sy. You’re mine, my life. Now and always.”
A lump forms in my throat. “Now and always,” I promise. “But still—”
“No,” she hisses. “Stop that bullshit right now. We’re making it out alive. And if… if something happens to me, you need to take this.” She discreetly presses something into my hand. “Don’t look at it now. But it’s your safe passage. Having that means Remus himself owes you a favor and you can use it to bargain for your freedom.”
Her words piss me off, and I fail at keeping my voice low. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? I’m not leaving you, baby. We face this together.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No!” I roar. “Either we make it out together or we don’t make it out at all.”
Remus chuckles. “How very touching,” he observes. “Shame this is Rome and not Verona, otherwise it would be like a modern day Romeo and Juliet.”
I tighten my hold on my wife, reminding myself I can’t punch Remus when he has guards in here with us. One look at them, and I know they’d kill me before I could even reach him.
The thought of dying for Lucia, for my wife, doesn’t scare me. What scares me is her dying for me. I fucking refuse to live in a world where she doesn’t. Because life without her wouldn’t be living, it would be existing. Something I’ve already been doing all the years before I met her, and I know it’s something I can never go back to again.
My thoughts are interrupted by the car slowing down and coming to a stop. The guards file out, forming a protective circle. Then Remus gets out, and lastly, Lucia and I step out. “Damn,” I whistle, impressed when I realize where we are.
Not just Vatican City, but the very heart of it all, with the ancient buildings I’ve only seen on TV surrounding us. As I look around, I’m hit for the first time with the sheer magnitude of everything.
The things Lucia explained about her family seem more real, more dangerous now that we’re here. It’s no longer a far out possibility or story. As we walk down the paved path, it all becomes much more tangible.
My sweet bunny takes my hand, dragging me along as a guard opens a door at the side of one of the buildings. We’re outside of the tourist areas, so no one sees us descend into the darkness. With each step it becomes darker, but it doesn’t smell old or damp.
Lucia startles as light suddenly illuminates us, from one of the guards holding a burning torch. “This way, please,” he says.
When I look around I don’t spot Remus anywhere. I bet the fucker used the darkness to slip away undetected. Is it any fucking wonder I don’t trust him? Pulling shit like this just makes him seem more shady than Lucia tells me he is.
“Where are we going?” I finally ask when it feels like we’ve walked for an eternity.
“The Vatican Necropolis,” she explains softly. “It’s a place hidden beneath the Basilica of St. Peter and it’s said to be where he’s buried.”
It’s clear from her tone that she’s awed, which, okay, it’s pretty cool. Maybe if we weren’t walking toward our potential deaths, I might be able to appreciate it.
“It’s an ancient city of death. There are mausoleums and tombs. At least that’s how the story goes. I’ve never been here before, but it makes sense the Senate wants to meet here.”
As we are led into a brightly lit area by the guards, I can feel the tension in the air thickening with each step. The room we enter is grand, with ten figures seated on pedestals, their identities concealed behind elaborate gold masks. Only one person stands unmasked, and as my gaze settles on him, I feel a surge of anger coursing through me.
Fabian smiles cruelly as he looks at me, and it sends a shiver down my spine as he utters those words that cut like a knife. “Welcome home, wife.” Every fiber of my being screams with fury at the sight of him, but I force myself to maintain composure, to keep myself in check.
Next to me, Sawyer lets out a menacing growl. “I think you mean ex wife.”
Even though he’s breaking protocol, I can’t bring myself to care. If they execute us for it, I’ll die fucking happy. Knowing we stood tall and didn’t cower to a bunch of cowards hiding their faces.
“Enough!” Since the Senate’s gold masks cover their mouths I don’t know who spoke. “We’re not here to trade insults. We’re here to determine the fate of Lucia Alexandria Russo.”
“Noted,” another says.
I assume they’re speaking English for Sawyer’s sake, and maybe mine. Language is like a muscle, even your native language gets rusty after hardly using it for ten years. So I appreciate it no matter the reason.
Fabian looks behind us. “Where’s the third accused?” he asks in a sharp tone. “We demanded three to appear but I only count two.”
Sy takes my hand, squeezing it, as I shift my weight from one foot to another. I mentally curse at myself and stop fidgeting. I shouldn’t show them my nerves.
Just as I’m about to say… something, anything, Remus’ voice rings out for all to hear. “You don’t command me, sheep.” The sneer in his tone is all too clear. It even makes some of the people on the Senate flinch. “I’m here. But you don’t deserve to see me unless you’re ready to bow and swear your loyalty to me again.”
Two people stand, taking a knee simultaneously. “Please, Don,” one of them pleads. “We didn’t know you would be summoned and we know we have no right to do so.”
“Mercy,” the other cries.
Remus’ laugh reverberates around the room. Then there’s a wind blowing out the torches, and when they’re finally relit, the guys kneeling on the floor are gone.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Fabian roars, slamming his fist into the marble wall. “Show yourself.”
Again, Remus laughs, but doesn’t say anything else.
Someone stands, pointing at Fabian. “This is your meeting and your summoning. The Senate will not favor you for playing games. Get to why we’re here.”
Fabian sneers. “This is Lucia Russo’s trial, and—”
The man shakes his head. “It was meant to be her trial, yes. But you summoned the Don as well. That changed the rules of the game. As the accuser you must state your case in front of the Senate.”
“I am on the Senate you dumb fuck,” Fabian spits angrily.
Another stands. “You cannot both be the accuser and judge, jury, and executioner.”
I try to hide my smile, but it’s hard. This is exactly what Remus foresaw would happen, and so far it’s turning out in our favor. So far…
Instead of looking bothered, Fabian grins. “I was going to recuse myself, anyway. I chose to be the accuser, as is my right.” He runs his hand through his hair as he walks to where Sawyer and I stand. “You all know Lucia Russo was given to me and married me upon her sixteenth birthday.”
A chorus of agreement sounds.
“But then the bitch betrayed me and struck a deal with our old Don. And that deal is coming to an end.”
Someone clears their throat. “The loophole for her freedom to become permanent was marriage. Is she not married to Sawyer Perry?”
Sy stiffens, and I squeeze his hand, trying to wordlessly tell him to remain calm. “She is,” Sy confirms. Then he lifts our joined hands to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of my hand.
Fabian scoffs. “A fake marriage. One created just for publicity. The fact that the Don allowed it is an insult to all of us.”
Even though I know I should keep my mouth shut, I can’t. “If you have an issue with forced marriages you don’t have much of a claim,” I accuse.
“Noted,” one of the masked men says.
“For fuck’s sake,” Fabian shouts, completely forgetting his manners and the importance of protocol.
Okay, I know I don’t have a leg to stand on since both Sy and I have done the same, but we’re not in the Senate. Fabian is, and he should act like it. Right now, he’s just showing everyone how personal this is.
“And me?” Remus asks. I discreetly look around, but I can’t see him anywhere. “Why am I summoned by a sheep? And why is my own council permitting this atrocity?”
Fabian’s satisfied smirk sends another shiver down my spine. “Glad you asked.” He pulls his phone out and plays something on it.
“Oh God,” I whimper as I realize what it is we’re listening to. It’s the conversation from mine and Remus’ dinner.
I want to snatch the phone from Fabian’s hand and smash it to pieces as I’m forced to listen to me and Remus casually discussing the fact I needed to get married. I look at Sy, trying to gauge how he feels about it, especially now that he knows I was willing to do anything to get my freedom. But he doesn’t give anything away as he looks straight ahead, his jaw clenched.
The recording continues being played.
“How long do I have to be married? I mean, what if my new husband dies or wants a divorce? What’s the time frame for my marriage, Remus?”
“I’d say at least a year. But I’d also caution you that exactly three hundred and sixty-five days would look odd if that’s when your husband mysteriously dies or divorces you.”
Oh no, I’d completely forgotten about the specifics of our conversation. It seems like it happened in another lifetime. But it wasn’t. Fuck, it wasn’t even that long ago I considered hiring someone to become my husband, and even considered killing them after I’d gotten what I wanted.
Knowing in your heart what you’re capable of is very different from hearing it said out loud. The implications of my questions and Remus’ answer are heavy. And Sy… my heart contracts at the thought of what must be going through his head while listening to the terrible things I said.
“Stop it,” I cry out.
“But there are still so many things to play for the Senate,” Fabian laughs. “Like the way you told your friend that you were making Sawyer your unsuspecting victim.”
“What?” I gasp. “I never…” Shit, I did do that. With Gail when we met up at O’Jackie’s after my dinner with Remus.
“If Sawyer is innocent, why is he here?” a man asks as he stands. “You told us he was part of the plan to cheat the Senate. But now you say he’s innocent. Which is it?”
The others murmur their agreement, also demanding Fabian answer the question.
“He’s here because Lucia married him,” Fabian defends. “How do we know he isn’t part of it?”
“You said he was innocent,” the man says. “He can’t both be innocent and part of deceiving the Senate. Choose. One or the other, but not both.”
Fabian’s eyes flash with anger. “Fuck. Fine. Then he’s innocent.”
“Sawyer Perry is excused.”
A guard comes toward us, and I sigh in relief, but it’s short-lived. “I’m staying,” Sy growls. “Unlike this asshole, I’m not leaving my wife.”
The guard doesn’t slow down, instead he rushes to us. As soon as he reaches for Sy, my husband moves to the side. Then he retaliates by slamming his shoulder into the guard’s stomach. He doubles over with a string of Italian curses leaving him.
“He just attacked a guard in this holy place,” one of the men shouts. “Get him. Get him.”
As more chime in, I realize this is where we get to see who’s backing Fabian. And the real reason they haven’t openly shown their support until now is because they’ve been biding their time. Fucking cowards.
“Stop!” Remus shouts. I want to cheer as he strides into the room. “If you touch him, I’ll have you executed for treason. Sawyer is here as my guest and is under my protection.”
One of the men clears his throat. “Forgive me, Don. But it sounds like you’re saying we, the Senate, can’t touch him even though we summoned him?”
“I won’t forgive you, Aldo. But you are right, that’s exactly what I said,” Remus retorts.
While Remus debates with the Senate, I whisper, “Are you okay?” hoping Sy hears me. But he doesn’t react at all, still refusing to even look at me.
I know in my heart that once we’re out of here, my marriage is over. Sy will want a divorce, and I can’t even say I blame him. The things I’ve said and done are horrible. He deserves so much better than me.
“As for my conversation with Lucia, I’m not going to defend myself,” Remus says, gaining my attention. “The terms of her deal with Romulus Russo were that she could gain her freedom completely by getting married. It never specified it had to be a love match or any length of time. Does anyone here dispute those facts?”
Some say no, and others don’t answer at all.
I’m surprised when Remus reaches for his white mask and in one fell swoop removes it, exposing his face. But the biggest surprise is that all the members of the Senate follow his example. One by one, they take off their gold masks.
“What the fuck is going on?” Fabian shouts, echoing my own thoughts.
These aren’t the Senate, it can’t be. I recognize at least half as guards, and the other half… well I don’t know them. But it definitely isn’t the Senate.
“So good of you to show up, Fabian,” Remus smiles. “Tracking you down has been harder than I’d like to admit. But I knew you couldn’t resist the chance to summon me like you had the right.”
“But I…” Fabian stumbles over his words, looking around with a wild, unhinged look in his eyes.
“I what?” Remus asks casually like they’re discussing the weather. “That sentence can end in many different ways. If you meant to say I’m the one who organized all of this, you’re right. I’m also the one who leaked Lucia’s whereabouts last year, knowing you would follow the breadcrumbs I planted for you.”
“You what?” I interject, looking between my cousin and husband. “You’re the one who told Fabian where I was?”
Remus doesn’t spare me a glance. “I know you were behind the attack on someone I love dearly, and I couldn’t let that go unpunished. So I’m the one who sowed the seeds about bringing Lucia home.”
“You infiltrated the Senate?” Fabian roars.
My cousin shrugs. “The Senate is mine and I can do with it what I goddamn please. That includes using whispers to remind everyone about the deal Lucia made with my dad all those years ago.”
“You made a mockery of everything,” Fabian spits, pointing an accusatory finger at our Don.
Shaking his head, Remus takes a step toward him. “No. I’m the one who eradicated the Senate. I knew it was corrupt when I took over, so I cleaned my house. I just never saw the need to explain any of that to you.”
Fabian backs away from Remus. His eyes are wild, reminding me of a cornered animal. Knowing just how unpredictable he is, I don’t dare take my eyes off of him. Not even for a second. I track his every movement; from the way he weirdly shakes his arm to the way he moves closer to Sy.
I narrow my eyes, wondering what he’s up to. But the second I realize it, it’s too late. The knife is already in Fabian’s hand as he whirls around, holding the weapon high and bringing it down in a stabbing motion.
A scream is torn from me as I realize what’s going to happen, and then I lunge. Using all my strength, I push Sy out of the way. Then a pain unlike any other makes my vision waver as black spots dance at the edge of my…
Thoughts become hard. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. Only a sickening gurgle. I think I hear a roar, but I’m quickly losing my grip on reality, so maybe it’s only in my head.