Chapter 43 ROSE
ROSE
Dan holds my hand in the back seat as Elio drives us to the docks at Civitavecchia
His fingers are warm against my cold palms. “We can turn around if you change your mind. Or Elio can drop Dom and me off and then take you home. There’s no need for you to be here.”
I clutch the brown envelope to my chest, a chill racing down my spine. “There’s every reason for me to be here. I want these papers signed.”
Dan’s jaw clenches and his eyes zero in on the back of Elio's head. I know what he’s thinking.
He blames Elio for the deal I made fourteen years ago.
If I close my eyes, it’s as if no time has passed at all.
I can still smell the smoke from my uncle’s cigar curl around me like an invisible leash he held around all of us. Overpowering, just like my father…
With a positive pregnancy test in my pocket and fresh tears cascading down my face, I tiptoe down the hall searching for Mamma, but pause outside the office when I hear my uncle speak about Dan.
“D’Angelo Bianchi è l'angelo della morte.”
I cover my mouth with my hand. The angel of death is Dan, his real name isn’t Daniel. It’s D’Angelo.
More voices carry through the gap in the door. “We’ll find him and when we do, we’ll make sure he suffers in the worst way.”
I clutch my stomach. It’s been three weeks since Dan disappeared.
Three weeks of hell. Three weeks of waiting for him to come back and explain.
Three weeks of crying into my pillow. I wipe away my tears.
I need to be strong. Our unborn child needs my protection.
They can never know it’s Dan’s. My heart races, wondering how I can keep this a secret.
“The Bianchi boys are both back on tour in the British army. They think they’re untouchable, but I have a plan.”
I burst into the room. The word, “No,” escapes from my lips with a strangled sob. “Please don’t hurt him or his brother. I’m begging you.”
My uncle snarls. “Your loyalty to this assassino makes me sick.” The back of his hand hits me across the face and I’m knocked sideways, stumbling to the floor. “What about the loyalty to your father? To this family?”
I rub the sting in my cheek and my brother helps me up with a frown, disappointment written in every crease of his brow.
Looking around the room at our security staff, they all pity me. I’m the silly girl who got swept away on a romantic notion that maybe someone actually loved me.
My brother’s right. I’m pathetic. Nobody would ever look twice at me.
But I have to stop this insanity. If I don’t, how can I look my child in the eye, knowing I didn’t try to save their father, even if he is a liar who’s abandoned me to the wolves.
I shake my head, refusing to believe that.
He’ll be back. I know it. I just need to bide some time for the both of us.
“Send me away if you want. Punish me instead. I’ll do anything.”
My uncle rubs at his jaw, an evil smirk on his face. “Elio, what was it you were saying about your friend in London? The Berlusconis who run the East End.”
Elio swipes a tear from my face, confusion pinching his brow. “Magnus?”
“Yes, that’s him. Call him… I have a business deal he might be interested in.”
Dan’s knuckles graze my cheek and I flinch, coming back to the present with a jolt. “Hey. You all right. You glazed over for a minute there.” He surveys me, full of concern. “Elio, turn the car around.”
“No. I’m fine. Elio, don’t you dare turn this car around.” A long shaky breath escapes my lips. “I was just thinking about the past, that’s all.” I place my hand on Dan’s leg, the cotton of his black trousers soft beneath my fingertips.
His features soften, and he leans over and kisses my temple. “What were you thinking about?”
“Just how the deal I made to marry was for nothing. My uncle never kept his word. I’m sure your helicopter accident was of his doing. He was never going to let it go.”
“It doesn’t matter now. It’s all in the past.” Dan smoothes a hand over his black tie. His whole attire black, as if he’s dressed for a funeral, meanwhile I’m in white. Today symbolises a day of freedom for me. Magnus’s presence has loomed over us like a dark cloud for far too long.
Lights flicker on the dark road. The moon gives off a red haze. A mist hovers over the docks like a blanket, almost suffocating.
Dan squeezes my hand, but I’m not afraid anymore. The worst thing Magnus could do to me now was poison my son against me and he already tried that. Everything is now out in the open and the truth has set me free.
I was surprised to learn that Mamma had some secrets of her own. I’m not sure if Elio will ever accept them as family, but at least he can respect Dan for saving my life. And at least he isn’t shackled with the family loyalty of my father and uncle.
The car comes to a halt and Elio kills the engine. Dom climbs out of the car and walks over to a man in a black suit, shaking his hand and pulling him in for a warmer welcome as he pats him on the back.
“That’s our second cousin, Riccardo,” Dan says.
Dan steps out first, scanning the area like he’s expecting an ambush. He always does. I wait for him to come around and open my door, my fingers tightening on the envelope in my lap. Divorce papers. Freedom, at last.
When the door swings open, Dan holds his hand out to me. I take it, feeling the calluses against my palm, grounding me.
“Are you sure?” he asks again, low and rough.
I nod once. “I’m sure.”
As I step out, the wind whips off the water, carrying the sharp tang of salt.
Container units are stacked like tombstones around us, Riccardo directs Dan and Dom to a rust-red one tucked at the far end of the dockyard. Riccardo’s face is like granite, probably carved from years of blood deals and backroom wars.
“He’s in there,” Riccardo says, jerking his chin towards the container. "Hasn’t stopped begging since we locked him up."
Dom flicks away the stub of his cigarette and cracks his knuckles. "That’ll make it even sweeter."
Dan casts a look over his shoulder at me, protective even now, as if worried I’ll crumble. But I don’t. I hold my head high and take the first step towards the container.
Riccardo pulls the doors wide.
The stench hits me first. A mix of sweat and stale urine. The scent of desperation. My stomach tightens, but I don’t flinch.
Magnus cowers in the corner, shackled at the ankles like the animal he is. His suit is stained, hair lank and clinging to his damp forehead. Once, he stood tall in this underworld. Now, he’s nothing but a trapped rat.
His eyes find me and he rises to his feet as if he still has the upper hand with me. “Rosetta.” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, slow and taunting, like he’s scolding a naughty child.
I step into the container, Dan’s hand at my lower back, his presence like a shield behind me.
Magnus’s gaze flickers to the gun in my hand, then to the envelope clutched in my other. He pales.
“Sign them.” My voice doesn’t tremble. It slices through the air like a knife slicing through butter.
His lips curl into a sinister snarl. “You think this is going to make you free of me? You’re mine, Rose. You even have the marks on your back to prove it.”
Dan steps in front of me with a gun in hand, his arm trembling as he fights his muscles not to pull the trigger.
“She was never yours. You’re delusional if you think she ever belonged to you.
” Dan pushes him against the wall, his gun under Magnus’s chin.
“How does it feel knowing that whenever you fucked my girl, it was me she was thinking about? It was me she dreamed about when you were lying next to her, and it’s my blood that runs in her son’s veins. ”
He snarls. “How does it feel, Bianchi, to fuck your prize pig and see my marks on her back?” His tongue clicks once, sharp and deliberate, punctuating his sick words. But that’s all they are to me now, just words. “Every time you fuck her, you’ll think of me.”
Dan lets out a half laugh as if he knows something Magnus doesn’t. “Let’s get this over with, shall we? I don’t want to be in this container longer than I have to. You fucking stink.” He shoves him onto the floor.
I take a few steps to stand at his side, holding my gun trained on Magnus’s forehead, just like my brother showed me. I throw the envelope down in front of him, the divorce papers spilling across the grimy floor.
Riccardo kicks a pen towards him.
“If I sign, what’s in it for me?” Magnus snarls, though his voice cracks.
“Sign,” Dan growls, lifting his gun a fraction.
Magnus clicks his tongue, feigning disappointment, like we’re the ones letting him down. He snatches the pen in shaking fingers and scrawls his name, like a man signing away his last breath.
I scoop up the papers, folding them neatly. I don’t let my hands shake. Not in front of him.
Elio steps into the container, head low, his hands in his pockets as if he’s taking pity on his old friend.
Magnus spits. “You traitor. You working with them now? Since when did you side with a fucking Bianchi?”
“Since I saw what you did to my sister. You piece of fucking shit.”
He laughs. “We made a deal. You gave her to me to do as I please.”
“She was still my sister, and you disrespected her and me.” Elio raises a gun. “I should kill you myself. I’m well aware of your midnight dock activities with the Messinas. If anyone’s a traitor around here, it’s you.”
“If anyone is going to kill him, it’s me,” I say, holding the gun steady in my hand.
I cock my head, taking in the weak man before me who looks nothing like the powerful man he once was.
The man who could command the full casino he ran as soon as he stepped foot in the door.
A man I at least respected before I married him and realised what a monster he was on our wedding night.
I swallow the bile threatening to spill out of my mouth as memories flash through my head.
“You’re not worth the bullet,” I say coldly. “It’d be a waste.” For the first time, I see him for what he really is: small, pitiful, powerless. He never owned me. He never will.
I turn my back on him and on the past, on every scar he left on my body and my soul, and step out of the container into the clean night air, taking a deep breath and filling my lungs with the salty sea breeze.
Magnus laughs, thin and broken. “She spares me!” he shouts after me, as if that grants him some dignity.
But as I turn back around, Dan steps forward, casual, like death itself in a suit. He lifts the can of petrol Riccardo hands him and pours it over Magnus’s head, soaking his trembling frame.
Magnus’s bravado crumbles instantly. “No. No, stop. Please. Don’t do this. I’ll disappear. You’ll never see me again.” Magnus crawls backward, but Riccardo and Elio block his escape, guns raised, cold and remorseless.
Dom lights a cigarette in the corner, watching like a man enjoying the final scene of a play.
“You think you get to walk away?” Dan’s voice is gravel and flame. “She may be able to show you mercy…” He drops the empty can to the floor. “But I’ll never forgive you for what you did to her.”
Magnus pisses himself, terror pooling at his feet.
Dom plucks the cigarette from his lips, flicks it into the container.
The fire catches fast, roaring up Magnus’s legs as he screams—a sound that doesn’t touch me. Most people would flinch. Gag at the stench of burning flesh, or turn away as his skin peels. But I don’t. I just watch, unmoved. Like Dom.
As the flames take Magnus, I don't see a man burning. I see my past torment; I see my present fear. And I see my future freedom. A freedom I’ve spent years fighting for.
Through the smoke, I breathe easily for the first time in years.
He tried to break me, but watching him burn, I’ll never be afraid of shadows again.
And from the ashes, we’ll build a fresh start.
I watch the flames rise higher through the gap of the container doors as Riccardo and Elio walk out of them, followed by Dan, a dark silhouette with fire behind him like wings on a phoenix.
The men stand around as if watching a bonfire on Guy Fawkes night, but Dan comes to me, his eyes still dark with vengeance, flames still roaring behind him, giving him an orange aura like an angel. My angel.
His eyes soften when they meet mine under the veil of night. He threads his fingers through mine and leads me back to the car.
As we climb in, I let out a breath I feel like I’ve been holding for over thirteen years. “You really are the angel of death,” I murmur, as the glow of fire reflects in the rearview mirror.
Dan gives me a slow, dangerous grin. “I prefer Mr. Inferno.”
I can’t help but match his smile, despite the scent of death and burning flesh carrying on the breeze. For the first time in my life, I’m finally free. “I thought you were going to let me handle things?”
“You didn’t really think I’d let him live, did you?” His jaw tightens. “His fate was sealed the moment he laid a hand on you. I just wish I’d known sooner. When I was watching from a distance, you always seemed so happy when you were married to him.”
“I learned to put on a mask. I pretended to have the perfect marriage for our son.”
He swipes a blonde strand of hair from my cheek, the brunette roots now overtaking the cheap blonde dye I once hid behind. “You’ll never have to pretend again. We will have the perfect marriage if you’ll have me.”
“You know I will.” I lean over to kiss him, his lips warm and tender, just like our first kiss. “I’ve always been yours, D’Angelo.”
“Not every love story ends in ashes, fiore mio. Ours begins there.” He cups my face in his rough palms and presses his lips to mine. “And God help anyone who tries to take it from us. I’ll burn the whole world to the ground if I have to.”
I believe him too. There’s nothing this man wouldn’t do for me.
Dom and Elio leave Riccardo and his men to deal with the container and climb into the front seat. Elio drives us away from the flames, away from the past, and into the life we fought for, bled for, and nearly died for.
As the fire fades in the mirror, a new dawn creeps over the horizon.
We don’t look back. The past burns behind us, but the future blazes ahead.