Chapter 36
36
Valentine
I t was an easy decision to leave a note on the pillow for Layne to see when she woke up, explaining where we were. We didn’t get home until early this morning, and since it would be better if we did a few things without our wife being present, we left her sleeping.
The main room at Lucia’s is once again a cesspool of bullshit. There’s always been lingering intimidation in each look or word spoken between us all, but it feels worse than usual today. Perhaps because my pack has a more tangible reason to worry than ever.
Before Layne, our future was based upon lethal hate, born of Vitale’s scheming. Now, revenge remains an incentive, but we have a reason to make it something more worthwhile.
It’s in situations like this when the memory of how Vitale murdered my parents and their pack appears like a photo book in my mind. I see it replaying, second by second, from the moment we arrived at our nonna’s estate, all of us excited to see her after being away.
Nonna was a De Luca, and back in Italy, the De Lucas were pedigree, while the Gambrillo were a family of “made men.” Her downfall was falling in love with Antonio Gambrillo.
Perhaps the Gambrillo DNA really was laden with the desperation of wanting more, of never being satisfied, because my grandfather Antonio lusted after power, the same way he lusted after women. Clearly my father, and to a lesser extent, Aunt Maria, took after Nonna’s side of the family, while Vitale was a mirror image of Antonio in looks and actions.
Despite Nonna being the wife of the Boss of the Gambrillo Family and the mother of his three children, she left him when his repeated affairs ripped her and their pack apart. She moved out of the De Luca ancestral home, which, by then, had already shamefully been renamed the Gambrillo Estate.
I still don’t know why the De Lucas back in Italy never got involved, but Nonna would always say everyone had complete faith in Dante, me, and Matteo. Since we were orphaned at such a young age, Nonna and the other women of our family stepped in to parent us. They made sure Matteo was always with us, and they pushed us hard in everything we did, but it came from a place of love.
The way a “Family” is set up is similar to a business. To run a successful business, you need people who are skilled, which is what Nonna ensured. Vitale had no option but to include Pack De Luca as soon as we were ready, and he never second-guessed where our allegiance would lie, perhaps because, regardless of the fact Vitale murdered our family, we were born to be involved in the business.
Nonna schooled us privately. When we weren’t being watched, she would coach our vengeance as a long-term strategy that involved a drawn-out and convoluted game of smoke and mirrors, where we would feign respect and loyalty, learning as much as we could, while forming a path to our own power.
The group setting may be the trigger, or it might be that so many of the people sitting in this room had some form of involvement in the death of my parents, but either way, it’s when I’m amongst them I feel most at ease. Because I think, in situations like this, I see the fullest extent of our success; we are included in everything about the Gambrillo empire. The people are so hell-bent on their own successes, their own quest for power and respect, they’ve forgotten what they did to get where they are, but we haven’t.
Without doubt, our parents, including Matteo’s mother, would want us to be happy and focused on making a beautiful future with our wife. Which was going to happen. But it would be disrespectful to their sacrifice if we let anyone associated with Antonio’s, and/or Vitale’s reign, get away with familicide.
Our pound of flesh, and the phoenix-like rising of Pack De Luca, will happen.
“His voice gives me a fucking headache,” Dante leans over and whispers in my ear. “Can I watch him swallow a bullet now?”
“So close, brother,” I answer, my eyes not leaving another of Vitale’s supporters. And this one is related. He’s currently in the middle of a long-winded rundown on how the Irish have apparently been ripping us off.
Pretty funny, considering it’s not the Irish ripping off Vitale; it’s him.
In this world, you fast become immune to treachery and deceit, unless it directly impacts you. I’ve seen desperate people doing crazy shit, but if you jumped every time you discovered something not quite right, you’d be dead a hundred times over before you hit adulthood.
Dante’s phone rings, and he gets up to leave the meeting and take the call. I sit back, watching the continual posturing happening around the table.
Today’s meeting includes the founding families—Gambrillo, De Luca, and Valhesse—and, like always, Vitale’s most trusted capos and lieutenants not related by blood. It's a good way of keeping track of who is not being entirely honest, and who is, as we cycle through the usual topics. Of course, like all meetings, the women are not invited, which is in line with how sexist and aged most of these pricks are.
Their unwillingness to adapt to the modern world is their downfall. When you’re meant to be at the top of the pyramid, it’s a dangerous place to be if you can’t relate to half of the people under you.
“Enough,” Vincent, Vitale’s current mouthpiece, calls the meeting to order, cutting off a coordinated spiel headed by two of my actual blood relatives about sourcing other avenues and cutting the Irish out of the shipping of our guns altogether. Which sounds plausible, except for the fact the Irish own most of the key ports, and if it’s not under their control, it’s run by the Bratva.
The Russians and our families have a bloody past. The hate between them is on a similar level to the hate my pack has for Vitale. Simply put, the Russians have killed too many of our people and stolen too much of our money for any sort of resolution to ever happen.
“You waste so much fucking time looking for the answers that are already here,” Vincent says, sitting back in his chair and looking as pompous as ever. “Vitale expects the increase of profit you promised. End of story. If you don’t get it from the business, sell some of your assets, but by the end of this week, the money needs to be paid.” And then Vincent turns to the table, including everyone in the discussion. “Diego is to have access to all the books. Anything he wants.”
Of course, he explodes. “You’re double-checking my work? You’re doubting my loyalty to Vitale?” His face gets nearly purple in his anger, his scent getting impossible to ignore. “My own son sits with me until nearly midnight every night to make sure every dime Vitale is entitled to is checked and paid. And this is the thanks we get?” He surges to his feet, his son standing behind him, already digging his hand under his suit jacket to draw a weapon.
I push my seat back and grab my laptop and Dante’s, in case people start to get trigger happy. It’s happened before. Next to me, Diego gets to his feet.
I take it as a sign shit is about to go south, now that he’s involved.
“You have no right, Vincent,” Diego explodes, leaning over his table and scent bombing the room in his anger. “Apologize to Aldo right this second, before you lose the right to ever speak in a meeting again.” He starts jabbing his finger toward Vincent. “Only our family has the power you’re throwing around.”
Vincent, who is a made man, surges to his feet. “You talk about disrespect. I have been involved in this ‘family’ since before you were fucking born!”
His comment is so absurd, I bark out a laugh.
Matteo walks back into the meeting at the right time, a coffee in his hands and a look of amusement on his face. He just leans against the wall, while around us, the meeting dissolves into a fucking circus and only gets stopped when Vitale’s other guards come from outside to see what the issue is.
The tensions don’t stop when they arrive, but people see it as an excuse. All around the table, people signal they’re done before leaving without the proper protocol. Vitale’s phone will be running hot tonight with apologies. He’ll blame everyone else, but the fact remains, as head of the Gambrillo Family, he is ultimately responsible for this farce.
The room is practically empty when Dante returns. He starts laughing as soon as he sees. With a last look around, he speaks. “We should take a drive and make sure Vitale gets home safe.”
He waits until we’re in the car and traveling in the opposite direction of Vitale’s estate before saying more. Honestly, it would be a dream come true if someone attacked his home right now, which is why we’re going home. Dante only alluded to us checking of Vitale incase other people were listening. It would have been dangerous to not appear to be thinking of Vitale’s safety, but now… I hoped he was being attacked. It would save us time and effort.
“There are too many vehicles on the security register,” he says. “Leon has been working at Vitale’s estate for the day. I’ll get him to send over the records of who’s been visiting to keep you in the loop.”
“Get Legos over there and anyone else we can spare. Hopefully we mitigate any surprises before they become an issue,” Matteo answers, also pulling up the feed from home.
Layne’s watching a movie with Bella and Edward, looking sleepy and relaxed.
Dante’s eyes are on the screen when he speaks. “Legos and Leon will hide extra weapons around the place for tomorrow, if they can, but as soon as the doors open and she starts walking our way, we act.”
“The wait staff are all ours, same with most of the bar staff.” Matteo runs over the plans we have spent a long time preparing.
“Tonight, we’ve got our cleaning crew working side by side with Vitale’s, and Ahmed and his team will be close by but not on-site. As a last resort,” I remind everyone unnecessarily, before swinging a look at my brother. “Who called?”
“One of our contacts at the airport said they’ve received a couple of strange requests for tomorrow. A smaller charter to come in before the event and a late-afternoon booking. The booking checks out. The other I’ve asked for more information on, which hopefully comes through.”
Matteo interjects, “But the reality is, we’re more likely to be dealing with a helicopter landing than an aircraft.”
“True,” I mumble before reaching over to Dante’s phone and calling Layne while I pull up the video feed to watch her reaction.
“Hey.” As her voice floats through the car, there’s an obvious drop of residual aggression the three of us have been harboring since our meeting with Vitale.
“What are you up to?” Dante asks.
Layne smiles before answering. “Movie time.”
“How about you pause that movie? We’re coming home, Mrs. De Luca, to pick you up. We have an appointment we can’t miss.”
“What? Who?” she asks, sitting up.
Dante growls under his breath. “Let us have one surprise for you. Since you know nearly all our other secrets.”
“Doubtful,” she bites back teasingly before stretching on the couch. The motion pulls up her top, nice and high.
“Do that again,” I demand impatiently. “But, this time, show off more skin.”
“Wait.” She stops mid motion, her gaze flying around the room. She won’t find the cameras, and none of us will tell her; it would spoil the fun for later.
“Layne, we’ll be there in about twenty minutes to pick you up,” Matteo interrupts, reaching through the gap to cut the call as soon as he finishes speaking.
We all watch her confusion while trying to find the camera before she talks to the dogs again, pauses her movie, and goes to get changed. Seeing her in our home, it’s hard to remember a time she wasn’t there.
“We just need to get through tomorrow.” It’s not really a conversation starter, it’s me talking out loud.
We spend the rest of the drive home working through a list of potential screwups that could derail our plans. Admittedly, there are a few, but the reward far outweighs the risk.
Dante and Matteo wait in the garage while I go up and get Layne for her surprise. The Omega specialty shop we are going to has a special allowance for pack visits, but we can’t be late.
It’s such a smart way of doing business, offering appointments, along with normal open hours. The way her scent and her presence messes with me makes it hard to imagine how I’d react if any other Alphas were in the same space at the same time as we were.
“Layne,” I call out as soon as the elevator doors opens. Edward is already there to see who is coming, and a second later, Bella appears, trotting in front of Layne.
“You were quicker than I thought.” She smiles. “Do I look okay? I wasn’t sure how to dress.”
Layne does a small spin on her way toward me, her bag and jacket in her hands. Intentionally or not, she chose to wear something I picked out. The long-sleeve jumpsuit is strapless and has wide legs. The soft, flowing material accentuates her natural curves, and with her hair hanging in curls down her back, it makes her look taller than she is. But the best thing about what she wears is her confidence. I can see how good she feels dressed in it.
The longer she is with us, the more she is blossoming. I don’t bite back the groan when she throws her arms around my neck, walking me backward until my back hits the closed elevator doors.
“God, Valentine, stop looking at me like that,” she whispers, staring deep into my soul before she kisses me.
She breathes happiness into my lungs.
“I can’t wait to see your face when you realize where we’re going,” I say, straightening us both back to standing. My hand hits the elevator doors, because it’s that or I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder and tie her to my bed.
As the elevator goes down to the garage, she pulls on a shoulder holster, then a jacket. Putting her back to me, she uses the mirrored walls to do her makeup. The dogs standing between us are all that saves her from me smearing her red, glossy lipstick.