Chapter 11
Matt
“I can feel your judgment from here,” I grunted as Max sat on the couch in utter silence.
It was like the whole room shrunk, darkened, and dipped into a glass of guilt after Francesca left.
“You didn’t want my opinion yesterday, and I’m sure as fuck you don’t want it today.” He muttered back, tipping the remains of his glass down his throat.
It didn’t matter that it was only ten a.m.. Where we ruled, there was no fucking difference between night and day. So whiskey at ten it was.
The clear pain in Francesca’s eyes was enough to have Max’s previous discretion transforming into the bitter truth. His true thoughts were wired directly from his brain to his mouth this morning, and I wasn’t sure I could blame it entirely on the booze.
“It needed to be done,” I whispered more to myself than to him.
Ruthless men don’t have regrets.
Ruthless men don’t feel remorse.
Ruthless men don’t allow any woman to bring them to their knees.
The fucking mantra didn’t stick like it was supposed to. I needed to imprint those words into my brain because right now, that was exactly all that I felt. Regret. Remorse. Guilt.
Even though Francesca had put on a mask made of hate and bravado, I knew she was breaking inside. I knew exactly the kind of damage I was inflicting on her, yet this was the only way.
“It needed to be done,” I repeated, following Max’s lead and downing my drink in a single gulp, too. I was adamant about believing that my plan was about her happiness and that I was the only one standing in her way.
“You’re the boss.” There was condescendance in his voice and I didn’t care for the tone.
“Yes, I fucking am,” I growled. “So stop judging.”
“I lost her, too. Your fucking actions, but it cost me, too.” He was right. I had made him a part of this, and for that, Francesca will never forgive him.
I sighed in resignation. Still, not an ounce of remorse left my body with that exhale.
“Francesca needs to hate me, or every Don at the fucking table will see right through it. Apart from Enzo Amato, you are the only person who knows the truth. Let’s keep it that way.”
I needed her to look at me exactly like she did today – as if she hated every last thing about me. Just like my mother looks at my father. The realization that I’d become him wasn’t lost on me, and fuck did I hate it.
Still, to make this happen, I needed her hate and disgust to be convincing. Otherwise, The Commission would see my plan as an attempt to take over the power they held together. A suspicion of that kind would easily end with my head on a damn spike. Not even figuratively speaking.
This had to be real. Her distaste for me had to be palpable and raw, just like when we got married. Full fucking circle, indeed.
Little did they know that even divorced, I would still never go up against her. I would still bend and burn to make her happy and protect her, regardless of the consequences, even if I had to do so from afar.
“Save the lecture,” Max answered, pulling me from my thoughts, “I’ve played my part, and I’ll keep playing it. The damage is already done. The least you can do is make her fucking dream come true now.”
“She deserves this, Max.” I tried reasoning. Not sure if with myself or with my second in command.
“She deserved to have a choice.”
I pushed up from my chair, the truth in his words making me spring to my feet and rush over towards him. It was clear that mulling over it with a glass of Macallan wasn’t going to do the trick. And instead of smashing my sottocapo’s teeth in, I needed to find a better use for the rage and whatever the fuck that was running through my body.
“She deserved to have a choice one year ago when she was forced to marry me and lost a piece of herself.”
“You really don’t fucking get it. She didn’t lose anything until five fucking minutes ago.” He roared right back at my face.
“Don’t push it, Max. I’m your Don, and you will show me respect.”
“What I’m showing you right now is the truth, but you don’t want that, do you? Besides, if I’m going to take Liam’s place as your second, you need me to tell you when you’re fucking up, even if your reaction is pressing that gun in your hand against my temple.”
I hadn’t even noticed I’d pulled out my gun. My index that was slightly pressing on the trigger relaxed an inch at the realization.
Having my ass handed to me wasn’t a normal Tuesday. No one dared to speak to me this way and lived to tell the damn story. But I deserved his anger, even though I wasn’t capable of actually listening to it right now.
“The truth, Max? Why don’t you start practicing what you preach? Let’s hear some of your truths. I’d be thrilled to take the day off to listen to those,” I taunted accusingly.
I blindly trusted the man in front of me, yet there was much more to his story than what Grandpa had told me. Max was loyal to a fault, but his past wasn’t the best of resumés.
“But we’ve got things to do,” I continued. “So keep your judgment for my fucking eulogy when it’s time to decide what seventh hell I belong to. Say whatever you want when I’m dead.”
I stood down, walking towards the drink cart and pouring another three fingers of whiskey that burned its way down my gullet as sweet punishment.
Ruthless men don’t have regrets.
Ruthless men don’t feel remorse. Bull-fucking-shit .
I tricked her into marrying me, and now we were both paying the price. That regret ate me up inside. Knowing she could have had everything she wanted but I was the one standing in her way.
Francesca deserved to have a fulfilled life. She deserved to have every damn thing her heart desired. She wanted this before she wanted me. If I hadn’t imposed myself in her life, she would have had her fate, her destiny, unobstructed. A clear path to reach, and blossom into the ultimate and best version of herself.
There was only one more obstacle to overcome — the centuries-old, too fucking ingrained in our culture, patriarchal structure that made up the Mafia. Yet, somehow, that seemed to be the easiest part.
After all, we were businessmen, and having a Don owe you a favor was some stellar ace to hold up your sleeve.
I was sure that Francesca would crash and burn and rise from the ashes.
Renewed, stronger and free.
A Mafia Queen in her own right. A Donna.
“Enough about this now,” I said, pulling out the silver bullet engraved with Hiro’s name and tossing it in the air for Max to catch. “Call the cavalry. We have some hunting to do.”
This conversation was leading nowhere, and I needed something or someone to take out my anger on. Because that image of Francesca turning her back towards me and leaving for good was too much to handle, even if I was the one who pushed her to go.
◆◆◆
“The garbage has been disposed of, Don Battaglia. There’s some new intel you might—”
“MATTEO BATTAGLIA, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?”
Alison came storming into my office, not caring to knock or control whatever rage rushed through her to march into a pit of mafiosos without a care in the world.
“We’re in the middle of something here, Alison.”
“Then end it. We need to talk.” She grunted again. My little sister didn’t know boundaries, and more than that, fear just wasn’t a part of her vocabulary.
“Leave. Now. This better be good, Alison.” I obliged, ordering my men out so my sister could unleash whatever the fuck was exploding inside of her.
I saw Max linger behind and I gave him a small nod to shut the door behind him. It was clear by the way his eyebrows were pinched together that he was concerned about her.
“Start talking.” She demanded, stomping the rest of the way from the door and parking right in front of my desk, propping her hands on the wooden surface and leaning in as she waited.
“What’s our topic?” I sarcastically asked, knowing I was pushing her buttons further. “I can ramble endlessly about how fucked up the weather is, but I’m inclined to believe that’s not what you want to hear.” I pulled another Marlboro from the almost empty pack and lit it as I leaned back into my chair.
“I just came from your apartment. It took one look at that kitchen and the pile of suitcases in the hall for me to know that you fucked up. Francesca is gone, and it’s clear to me that it wasn’t pretty. What did you do?”
Alison was right. Our apartment looked like a tornado went into it, chewed on every breakable item, and spat it back out before leaving. I’d been there the same day Francesca left. Maybe to check if she was really gone.
Just the same, it took one look at the place to know that, came hell or high water, I wouldn’t be staying there anymore. There was too much history bouncing off those walls. Too much of Francesca lingering in every corner, surface and crevice. I simply couldn’t.
She will crash and burn and rise from the ashes.
I’d envisioned her like a phoenix. I saw her bursting into flames, but that was only the beginning of her transformation.
“I don’t want to talk about it. Not now,” I replied, pressing my thumb and index into my eyes, trying to reign back the turmoil raging inside my chest. I was trying as hard as I could to bury it, I didn’t need to go poking the wound back open.
As if it had closed. As if it ever would.
“Seriously? This is what we’re doing now?” Her voice was filled with accusation and a silent disappointment that would only grow once I told her what happened.
“I gave her the divorce? Okay? Happy?”
“Why the hell would you do that?”
“Because I had to, okay? Because she deserved to have a shot at fulfilling her dreams, and because I was a selfish fucker a year ago, she wouldn’t even have a fair shot.”
I exhaled my frustration, another long, hard drag from the cigarette dangling between my fingers. She will crash and burn and rise from the fucking ashes.
“What are you even talking about? That woman loved you. You were her dream. You’re being a selfish fucker right now, trying to wash away your guilt for a stupid fucking move you made a year ago that’s haunting you now. You took the easy way out, trying to rid your conscience of it. I never took you for a coward.”
“I’M DOING IT FOR HER! TO GIVE HER WHAT SHE WANTS!” I shouted, sprinting to my feet to meet Alison’s gaze. I’d never had a fight with Alison. This was a first, and somehow I felt like I’d lost before it even began.
“No, you are not!” Alison replied coldly and calmly, “If it were for her, you would be fighting, because your dumb ass is what she wants.” She paused, looking at me in utter disgust, an expression I’ve never seen her wear, especially not for me. “For years, I’ve heard you rant about how Alex was always better than you, the best half in a pair. I never believed that. But you’ve just proven me wrong, right here, right now.”
“It’s done. No turning back.”
“Stop reveling in fucking self-pity and fix it.”
Without another word, she left.
There was no way to fix it.
That damn meeting couldn’t come quick enough. I just hoped that one day, Francesca could see this for what it truly was. I was keeping my oath of honor and respect, setting her free to become who she was destined to be.
I was crashing and burning, but unlike her, I knew I would never find the strength to rise from the ashes.