Chapter 48
48
Valentine
I sit with Layne in the back seat of the Escalade, needing her anchoring influence and her scent inside my lungs.
Seeing her walk out in the dress I knew would look incredible tipped every part of me upside down. I seriously thought I had a handle on how she made me feel, but clearly not. One look from her, and I flare white hot. One touch, and what I thought was important dissolves.
She is my clarity.
The last thing we need is for me to blow our hand at the eleventh hour.
“Vitale, of course we could always postpone our wedding reception until we know what happened last night with Vincent and where Diego is.” I manage not to laugh by watching Layne’s lips twitch as I continue taunting him over the phone.
But the stubborn old fucker is insistent about maintaining appearances and facing the latest threats to the Gambrillo Family head-on.
I’m happy with that. It gives me the chance to continue feeding his paranoia, bit by fucking bit. “I’m still in shock about the fire. Are you sure Vincent was there voluntarily? It doesn’t make sense why he was in her bedroom, though, does it? I know he lives close, so perhaps he was rushing in to help her on your behalf.”
I mute Vitale’s response an instant before Dante barks out a laugh. And I leave my call muted as I text Legos and Leon, letting them know we’re pulling up out of the front of the estate.
Everything so far is happening to plan.
Picking the call up again, I wait for Vitale to stop wheezing. “We’ve arrived. Do you want me to come up and see you? Or should I welcome your guests on your behalf?”
He cuts me off and tells me he wants an update on Diego’s disappearance, then hangs up. How the tables have turned. With Vincent out of the picture, he’s scrambling to keep control. He also has no option but to rely on my pack, particularly after recent events, which is exactly how we wanted the day to play out.
As expected, within a few hours of the fire, my pack was included in a conference call with Vitale and his closest allies. Matteo, Dante, and I listened and offered our support and backup, like good foot soldiers. Lucky for us, it wasn’t a video call, or Vitale may have figured out the very reason my cousin and his wife were, and remain, MIA.
Guards approach our vehicle, but Dante and Matteo dismiss them, laughing at their suggestion our Escalade needs to be checked for explosives. Today, the threat on Vitale isn’t hidden under cars; it’s coming for him head-on while wearing expensive tuxedos with the most fucking incredible woman by their side.
Layne’s hand slides inside my tux jacket, resting over my heart. Her finger taps in time with my heartbeat, and she guides the last-minute frenzy happening inside my veins to a calm.
“It’s finally time, Valentine.” Layne’s eyes hold me captive as she speaks, reminding me again of who holds the power in our pack. “The only thing that scares me about you is how deeply I feel for you. Your passion and loyalty is a turn-on. You love with everything you are, which is wildly attractive. So, let go and show every asshole inside the very reason why they should have feared you from the start. Don’t hold back on my account. Ever.”
She disappears before I can even blink. Serenity washes over me as I watch her leave, taking with her any lingering misconceived thoughts and idle doubts I have. When I get out, Matteo and Dante are standing, waiting, both mirroring how I feel.
I hug Matteo first. “This isn’t a goodbye, so don’t think that.”
“Good,” he says, his voice muffled. “Our plan is solid, and our motivation to survive is currently glaring at us.”
I hum an agreement, tightening my arms, sinking into his companionship and love. My brother pulls us apart before he hugs me.
Dante and I don’t trade words; they’re unnecessary. We share like we always have on a level only he and I understand. Our chests rise and fall as one, our hearts beat in time.
“You’ll make the De Lucas proud, Valentine.” He kisses my forehead, but he stays close, the both of us needing more time with each other.
I feel his strength in my arms, and the look on his face mirrors mine. A wave of deep love for my brother is the push I need to break away and start what we’ve been planning for years.
Before I leave his space, I pull him close, so I can kiss his forehead. “Together, we will make our family proud. Or we die trying.”
Our wife clears her throat, and my brother and I twist together to look at her, but her gaze moves from Legos, who’s lingering in the shadows, to Claudia and Vivian standing near the front door. My wife actually scares me with the way she looks at the women so belligerently.
Dante walks to Legos, Matteo lets the dogs out of the back of the car, and we move only when Dante is back. We walk past the small crowd already gathered, awaiting entry. I make a point of shaking hands with some of them, and others, I ignore.
After we walk through the doors, we leave them shut because, before I let our guests in, I want to show Layne a few things for the event I insisted upon.
The foyer resembles a florist shop. Massive vases of white lilies and orange blossoms, another Sicilian tradition, are everywhere. Along with picture stands, holding framed family photos of my parents, Matteo’s mother, and Nonna. There’s a collection of other photos, too, important ones that Vitale has purposely veered away from—like the reason he is in power.
My pack and I elected to include photos of the head of the entire Cosa Nostra, along with other people of importance because they are…important and deserve respect.
Vitale clearly hasn’t been in the foyer yet, or Legos waited until he did a final check, but there are no photos of any Gambrillo or Valhesse on display. Only the De Lucas and those of real influence in our world.
A blinding smile breaks over Layne’s face. She walks up closer to the images of our parents on their wedding day, seeing for herself the tribute we paid to our father by designing our tuxedos on what he wore. The pearl necklace my mother wore in the photo is in my hands to pass over to Dante, so when Layne turns to speak, my brother is already there.
“I always thought my mother was the most beautiful woman, but sorry, Momma, if you’re watching, my wife took your place and healed my heart in the process. Wear these for us, il mio tutto ? In memory of where we came from and where we’re going.”
Layne’s eyes twinkle with unshed tears, but she blinks them away as he secures the strand behind her neck. She’s back in his arms the moment the clasp clicks locked, leaning up for a quick kiss before rushing to Matteo. And ending up in front of me.
She leans up to my ear, her voice like a quiet breath. “Let’s skip to the good part. Don’t wait for speeches, please. I need you…”
Approaching footsteps, along with the unmistakable sound of Vitale’s wheelchair, cut her off. She leans in for another kiss, clicks her fingers for the dogs to heel, and Dante pulls the front doors wide open.
The foyer is half full by the time Vitale gets wheeled through, so he can’t do anything about the expansive photographic tributes without looking like a dickhead.
There has never been any secret who our parents were, and it is customary to display photos of those you love and respect, if they can’t make it. Regardless, when no one is watching, he makes his displeasure known.
Once the initial rush of guests flows toward the room where dinner will be held, and Vitale’s ego has been adequately stroked, I wheel him to take position at our table. The whole time, he waves to his most loyal while he quizzes me again on Diego and Rosa’s disappearance.
The intel he’s received so far has been staged by us. Since it’s getting filtered through the streets as well, the rumor Diego and Rosa have disappeared because of a soured deal linking back to the Bratva, Vitale has no choice but to believe even more of his trusted family friends are turning on him.
“Tomorrow, I want you here early. Without your whore,” he barks angrily. “I can’t name my successor until there is more stability.”
“We will deal with the traitors, Vitale, I promise you that.” I should have been a fucking actor with the solemnness I infuse into my words. But I’m not lying, which makes my pledge so much more believing. I’m just not talking about who he thinks I am. I’m talking about him and everyone else on our kill list.
As I sit next to Layne when the speeches start, she toys with her food, looking like a nervous, and excited, bride. We already decided to eat nothing, since the risk of poisoning was too great today. Layne only sips on drinks our pack has poured.
She is as safe as can be.
Just because we’re being careful doesn't mean other guests take the same precautions. By the time the platters of Sicilian delicacies have been cleared, the low dose of Xanax we diluted into the Chianti being served to a few of our guests is starting to make even the most devout of Vitale’s supporters doe eyed. We ensured the dosage wasn’t enough to have anyone questioning if they were drugged, and coupled with the volume of alcohol being served, people have a plausible excuse. Still, some of his guards are certainly drugged.
During the main course, a stream of guests paying respect to my pack, and also Vitale, starts. Their congratulations provide enough of a distraction that, when new waitstaff start circulating the room, no one notices the subtle shift in dynamics.
At Vitale’s first opportunity, he takes the limelight, using the microphone we had positioned within reach. It was a prop, made to look like it was for us, but we knew he would be the one to use it. He snaps his fingers at Dante for him to pass it over.
Leaning over Layne, I kiss her cheek before kissing her wedding and engagement ring. But like everything we have done since arriving, it’s a ruse. There's a hidden message in every action we do.
When I rise to my feet, Dante and Matteo follow me. We take a step and surround our wife. Which is customary when the speeches start, but today, we’re moving into position to shield her.
Vitale starts his overly emphatic and wheeze-laden speech of what a good person he has been toward us, considering the treachery of our parents. He nearly chokes on his words when he says he’s had the task of watching us grow into the men we are now.
I take a step closer to him, but because he’s prattling on to the crowd about what a good person he is, and droning on about his successes, he misses us drawing our guns. He only stops talking when Dante, Matteo, and I pull the trigger and end the lives of his most powerful allies.
A deafening silence envelops the room before there’s a rush of sound and movement as people react. Vitale’s supporters rush to help, and our supporters make it impossible for them to move an inch. Vitale flails noisily in his chair to properly face us, but before he can gather his thoughts, I take aim and shoot out both his knees.
It seems fitting, considering he did just that to my mother first, and then my father as he ran to her.
Activity explodes. Some people try to run from the scene, others are drawn closer. Certainly, there’s an upswing in noise and aggression, but a lot of it comes from De Luca supporters who make themselves known.
They were hidden in plain sight as guests and staff, but not anymore.
Legos and Leon stroll through the rising panic to the doors leading back to the foyer. They open the doors wide, letting more people in, including Carlos and Gina, who lead more De Luca loyalists. The people currently filling the room are the very ones Vitale exiled after he murdered our parents.
My stupid fucking grandfather should have killed every person associated with the De Lucas, because now, they’ve had time to let their hatred fester.
His death from a hundred different hands would come from each of the people he had exiled, after I delivered a few harsh realities to our grandfather. The moment is also a chance for us to show those who stayed true advocates that we would be men of our word.
Dante and Matteo hold Vitale down, pinning his arms to the armrests on his wheelchair, so Matteo can remove the ostentatious Cosa Nostra ring Vitale wears to define him as Boss of this territory.
Of course, Vitale had swapped out the traditional, simpler design given to him by the Don of the Cosa Nostra with one bathed in diamonds. Matteo lets the ring bounce over the floor to land in plain sight of our guests. The message of what we think of Vitale, and him as our Boss, is as fucking disrespectful as it is dramatic. But so fucking satisfying to see.
Legos and Leon signal the next phase of our reclamation by snapping their heels, similar to how soldiers do when they come to attention in a parade. The sharp crack of their shoes is done with intentional pomp and ceremony.
The guest about to walk through the doors has Matteo, Dante, and I placing our weapons on the table and bowing our heads in respect.
It is our welcome for the Don of the Sicilian Cosa Nostra. The Boss of us all.
Inviting him was done out of utmost respect, but it was also done on a promise we made on our first return to Sicily after our parents were murdered. He wouldn’t help us, he wouldn’t interfere, but when and if the time came and we were successful, he would attend.
Unlike Vitale, the man currently walking through the doors is a man true to his word. He is fair and honorable, but also appreciative of the money we withdrew from Vitale’s hidden bank accounts, returning the money to him, where it belonged.
Don Calogero Salvatore is a powerhouse. Energy ripples off him, and his presence literally rips your submission from you. I provide my wife a steadying hand when he comes nearer, but his Alpha presence is having a similar effect on a lot of our guests.
Don Salvatore spits at Vitale’s feet as he passes and waves his hand in Vitale’s general direction, effectively terminating him of his position.
“It seems a new dawn is upon us. One which some people always knew would come, while others seem to have completely miscalculated.” Don Salvatore’s English is nearly lost under his Italian, but everyone is so engrossed by what he’s saying, they understand.
The Boss of all of us stops in the center of the room, waiting for me and my pack. I interlace my fingers with Layne’s, and I’m nearly distracted by her again.
Her respect toward Don Salvatore is obvious, but at the same time, she maintains her focus on our pack. She reaches for Dante, then Matteo, and soothes each of us with small touches and tender smiles before she stands shoulder-to-shoulder with me in front of Don Salvatore.
“My wife, Don.” I hold her hand up to him, and his blessing comes instantly. He doesn’t ask her name, nor does he talk in English to her. I will translate his welcome for her later.
Once he finishes, my wife takes a step back to allow Matteo and Dante into the small circle, where the change of leadership, from Vitale to me, will happen.
Don Salvatore speaks only in Sicilian. His words are loud enough for the room to hear, except at the very end, where his voice dips low. He doesn’t disguise his targeted threat toward our wife if we betray him in any way.
We knew his threat would be a part of this. It was our way in the world we lived in, but still, I find myself vibrating in rage and ready to rampage. Layne settles the storm inside when she rests her hand on my lower back.
Once he’s done threatening us, he faces the people again and says a few extra words before sliding the plain gold insignia ring into place on my finger.
One of Don’s Capos steps forward and passes a knife. I sink to one knee before running the blade over my palm and bleeding on the floor in front of Don Salvatore’s shoes. The rough interpretation of the gesture—I will bleed for him. When I bow, he places a hand on my head, pushing me down farther, which, for an Alpha, is fucking offensive and actually physically painful, but my submission to him is vital.
He closes with a handful of words, officially sanctioning and endorsing my new role before walking out and leaving Pack De Luca in control of his empire in this country.
What happens next is unnecessary, in a sense. The ring on my finger is as loud as me having a billboard above my head, but at the same time, the slaying of Vitale and his supporters is as important as Don Salvatore’s endorsement.