10. Stefano
Istep out of my car, pulling my jacket straight, and walking towards one of my warehouses when my phone rings loudly.
Pulling it out of my pocket I glance at the screen. My head of security.
"Yes, James?"
"Sir, I don't know if this is of any relevance to you, but do you remember six years ago you had a massive team put together who was looking into that girl - Amelia Ricardi?"
My heart clenches like a fist in my chest at the mention of her name. I stop walking and James now has my full attention.
"What about it?" I say cautiously.
I stopped the search, and haven't spoken about her to anyone since then, but I've thought about her every single day of my life since then. And when I lie in bed at night, she is the last thing on my mind before I fall asleep and the first thing when I wake up the next day. I have been patiently waiting for the day when I can have my revenge on her and her family for what she did to me.
She tore my heart out and left me broken and numb.
In the years since losing her, I have become even more ruthless, even colder. I am not ashamed to admit this of myself. I am who I am because of what people did to me. I learned to be hard. To be strong. To be ruthless.
Amelia was just another one of those lessons.
"It looks like she's back," James says and it feels like the entire weight of the world comes crashing down onto me. I force myself to take a breath.
"Back from where?" I demand. "How do you know?"
"It's not solid information yet, but I've heard a thing or two. I wasn't sure if you wanted me to look into it, but I figured I'd better at least tell you."
"I want to know everything. Get the team back on it and find out where she is and what is going on. If she really is back, I want to know everything, including who the hell she married and where she's been all this time."
"Alright. I'll see what I can find out and get in touch with you as soon as possible."
After he ends the call, I dial Matteo.
I pace up and down in the parking lot outside my warehouse. Energy pulses in my veins, pushing me, pulling me, twisting me in all directions.
"Matteo. Come to the warehouse. I need to talk to you."
I hang up before he can give me the usual shit he tries to dish out over the phone.
Then I head into the warehouse to deal with whatever needs to be dealt with today, but my mind is like a fire that has just been set in a dry forest. The flames are starting to lick away at everything. Memories of her are pushing against my thoughts. Everything is ablaze and alive.
She's back.
When and why now? What is she back for? I'm dying to know.
But I've been patient for six years. I can be patient for a little while longer while I have her tracked down. She is stupid if she thinks six years is long enough to be safe from me. It would take a lifetime for me to let go of what she did to me.
That kind of betrayal stays with you, soaked into your bones, drifting in your blood.
But if she really is back now, then I can finally start my revenge. I've had years to plan out exactly what I want to do to her. How I want to destroy her life and cause her the most pain and misery possible. I want her to feel the pain I felt when she walked away without an explanation. Without anything. When she left me for someone else after lying to my face and telling me that she loved me.
I get through the morning, making sure things get done the way they are supposed to. When my assistant comes in to let me know that Matteo is here to see me I have her send him into my office.
He steps in looking grumpy and annoyed.
Matteo leans against the second office chair, his arms folded across the back of it as he slouches, disrespectful and tardy.
"Why did I have to come all the way out here?" He complains. "Wasn't this something we could have discussed over the phone?"
"I need you to keep an eye on all of our casinos, but especially the Amalfi Royale. I have a lot of other things going on right now and I need you to take care of business there."
"What the fuck man? Get someone else to handle the casino -- one of the managers or something. I have much better things to do with my time than that. Do you think I just sit around all day twiddling my thumbs? I'm not your servant. I have a business to attend to. Do it yourself if it's so important."
"Excuse me?" I stand up and walk around to the other side of my desk. Towering over my younger half brother with a menacing stare and a tightly clenched jaw. He pushes the chair away from his body and stands up straight, trying to puff his chest out as he tilts his chin higher to hold his ground against me.
"I'm just saying man, you have other guys."
In the blink of an eye, I have Matteo's collar gripped in my fist and I've lifted him off the ground. He kicks out angrily and I spin around slamming him into the desk. He huffs in pain as all the air is knocked out of his lungs.
"I didn't fucking bring you here to ask you a favor, little brother. The casino is our family business, and you will do your part in it. I am giving you orders. When will you fucking learn to just do as you're told?" My face is inches away from his as I spit the words into his face in anger.
"Get the fuck off me." Matteo pushes me away when I release him. His face is red with anger and embarrassment and his fists are clenched. But he knows better than to fight back. He's never won against me, and he never will. Especially not today when my mood is as dark as the midnight eclipse.
Without another word, Matteo turns towards the door and starts marching out of my office.
"I expect a daily report." I snap before he leaves.
He pauses just inside the doorway but still doesn't say anything. I can see by how tense his shoulders are that the anger is still pulsing through him. I can only imagine the things he wishes he could say to me right now.
But he walks away, and I know he will do as he is told; he'd better if he knows what's good for him.
I pace up and down my office, feeling years of tension threatening to explode through the surface of my skin. I've kept myself in control all this time. I've managed to hold it together and I don't want to lose it now.
I take my anger out on other people, it's the only way I've been able to get through it. I've always been very good at torture - I'm even better now. It's amazing how pain can push you beyond the limits you thought you had.
But now that Amelia is back it is time to focus - not to be distracted by emotions. I can't be letting this news get to me like this. I have to keep my head straight.
The phone on my desk rings loudly, breaking into my thoughts and I pick it up roughly.
"What?" I snap.
"Mr. Amalfi. It's Franky Lennox. We are all outside, in the parking lot, with our daughter. Uh - for our meeting. Is it alright if we come in?"
"Come." I snap and slam the phone down again.
I forgot that was today. I'd better just get this over with even though I am not in the mood for this kind of bullshit right now.
Another marriage proposal. Another family looking to form an alliance with me so that they can coast off the strength of my name. My name. That I worked hard to forge in stone.
People are like rats. Swimming for higher ground. Grabbing at whatever they can to get further in life instead of just working for what they want.
Amelia was supposed to be my wife.
Not some random girl from some random family.
It was always supposed to be her.
The father enters my office first. Knocking politely on the open door before stepping inside.
"Mr. Amalfi. I'm Franky Lennox. We spoke on the phone."
"Come in Mr. Lennox," I command and he steps deeper into the room. His wife walks more confidently behind him. I can see that she is the one who runs this family.
She is dressed in a white tweed suit accentuated by thick chunky gold jewelry that honestly looks like something my grandmother would have worn.
"Mrs. Lennox." I nod in greeting.
I sigh as she steps forward holding her hand out to shake mine. "It's such a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Amalfi. Your photos don't do you any justice at all." She oozes fakeness as she continues to hold her hand out for me to take.
I ignore it, looking around her to catch a glimpse of their daughter. The girl they are trying to pawn off to me as a wife.
The girl steps out from behind her mother wearing a tight black dress that falls just above her knees and black high heels. Her parents step to the side of the room as I let my gaze run up and down her body. She is around the same age as Amelia.
"Turn around," I say, disinterested.
She turns around slowly. Her face was tight with nerves. Her long blonde hair was pinned up in big overdone curls.
"Walk across the room," I command gesturing for her to put herself on proper display.
She does so, then stops back at the point where she started, fidgeting with her hands. Twisting her fingers and shifting her weight from one leg to the other.
Her mother grins proudly as though she is presenting the most beautiful specimen in the world to me. As though there was no chance I would ever turn her daughter down.
But I've seen beautiful. I've met the most beautiful woman in the world, and this is not her.
This is not Amelia.
"I'll think about it." I wave my hand to dismiss them from my sight and return my attention to the paperwork on my desk, which honestly at this point is more interesting than what they are offering.
"Mr. Amalfi. Would you like to go to dinner tonight?" her mother starts talking.
"I said I would think about it. Now get out." I snarl angrily.
The family hurries out of my space and I take a heavy, annoyed breath of air. These people are constant. There is a string of daughters waiting to be sold off to me for alliances. Some powerful families, but not as powerful as I am.
Some beautiful girls, but not as beautiful as Amelia is.
There were times when I thought that she might be dead. Because it seemed impossible for her to disappear like that. But she wasn't dead. She was just out there in the world living her life, happily married to some other guy, having his baby, laying in his arms at night.
I snarl at the thought of another man touching her. I can't handle it.
There is too much going on in my head today. I actually just need to get home and have a drink before I lash out at one of my employees and cause more drama than I am prepared to deal with right now.
I grab my things and lock my office door behind me.
In the car, I turn my music so loud that it drowns out any thoughts that might want to creep into my mind.
I hate feeling agitated and all I've felt for six years is agitated.
Nothing brings me pleasure; nothing makes me smile.
But finding Amelia - now that is something I would find great amounts of pleasure in.
Finding Amelia will change my entire world because I will finally be able to return all the hurt that she left me with.
I press the accelerator to the floor and speed all the way home.
I park the car just outside my front door and climb out, walking towards my home.
Can I even call it a home? Not really. It's just where I sleep. It's a place to eat and rest and regather my thoughts.
I find no warmth here, no comfort.
Not since Amelia left.
I push the door open and step inside.
"You can serve dinner early," I say to the housekeeper when she comes through to check if I need anything.
"Yes, sir. James was here just a moment ago asking when you would be home."
"Where is he now?"
"I'll find him, sir."
"I'm in the living room."
I dump my work bag on the side of the couch and walk straight to the drinks cabinet to pour a whiskey. I down the first one, then pour another. I carry it over to the couch and sit down with a heavy sigh.
James walks in. "Oh good, you're here. I wanted to tell you in person."
"What is it?" I grumble, pressing my fingers against my temple to try and force the lingering headache away.
"We found her."
I sit up bolt straight.
"You've found Amelia?" the shock in my voice is impossible to hide.
"We found her sir. She works at a hospital downtown."
"What does she do there?" I wonder out loud, knowing that she had always wanted to study business law.
"She's an OR nurse. But also, she has a child who is a long-term patient in that same hospital. The kid's name is Elena."
"What's her kid there for?"
"All I know is that she is on the donor list for a new liver."
Instantly every cell in my body tightens and a thick nausea pushes an old memory up. One that I buried so deep and never wanted to think of again, but there it is, swimming at the forefront of my thoughts.
My ex-wife, and our child, are in hospital.
I down the second glass of whiskey, trying to burn the images away.