Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
VINCENZO
T he moment sleep faded from my eyes, I knew I had bigger things to worry about than the woman in my bed.
However, I still felt like that was not the only thing weighing me down, making it harder for me to get up.
What I felt was dread, but I did not want to acknowledge that just yet. To admit that to myself would mean coming to terms with my regret for what I had said to Isabelle earlier.
Last night I had seen an emotion in her eyes that had made me want to push her away. I had to remind myself that we were from two different worlds and that this intersection was only temporary.
If Isabelle had been from my world, I wouldn't have had to worry about her misunderstanding my actions or decisions.
Although I had managed to rationalize my actions last night, the look she had given me kept playing over and over again in my memory, and every time, it felt like a punch in my gut.
Out of slight guilt, I instructed the cook to make sure her breakfast had a proper spread of American foods this morning. But once we finally sat at the table, it felt like what was before us was tasteless.
The silence in the room felt like a living, breathing thing, making even the pleasant scent of freshly made coffee, pastries, scrambled eggs and bacon disappear. I snuck a glance at Isabelle, all the way over at the other side of the table.
As if I didn’t already know she was angry at me, she had made it clear by making the conscious decision to sit as far away from me as possible. She ate slowly, not like she was trying to savor it, but like she could better get a bite in.
I felt awkward when she didn't even glance at the bacon I had requested my chef to get for her. It was supposed to be a taste of home for her, but maybe she had seen through the attempted bribery and had avoided it altogether.
The crinkling of the newspaper I was reading and the tapping sound of her laptop as she worked were the only sounds that filled the air. It was awkward, but none of us were willing to break the ice.
I kept staring at the same line in the paper for minutes. The words were blurring out of focus. I couldn't concentrate. The newspaper before me was nothing more than a prop, something to stand between me and Isabelle’s gaze.
The sudden sound of footsteps in our direction was a needed distraction. As if choreographed, our faces swung toward the entrance. It was Pietro.
My brother walked in tapping on his phone. He glanced up at us and put his phone away.
“ Buongiorno .” He said, and I nodded at him in response. Isabelle remained silent. Something in our behavior must have clued him in because he soon turned to face me with a raised eyebrow.
Pietro had an extremely expressive face, and he could get his point across easily without saying a single word. He didn't have to speak for me to know that he had noticed the strange atmosphere and was subtly asking what was up.
I cleared my throat and continued pretending to read the paper. I flipped a page to make it look more convincing, I could hear Isabelle's tapping on her laptop get faster and more intense, like she was really working on something important. I had no idea if she, like me, was just killing time. However, Pietro's voice interrupted us.
“What’s going on with you two?” He finally asked. The only reaction to his question was silence. I could see Isabelle fidgeting uncomfortably in her seat, and I didn't want to get into it either. So we both stayed silent. I simply shook my head at my brother, as if to tell him to drop the topic.
But I could see that Pietro was not going to back down. I motioned for him to sit next to me.
“I’m handling it. Don't worry about it.” I finally said.
“I'm sure you can handle it, but I don't know if our family's reputation can. You know that with your campaign for the Cupola, things are really tricky right now. When I ask if everything is fine, it's because we need everything to be fine.” Pietro spoke slowly, and I listened. It was rare for him to speak so much. I understood his concerns about my relationship with Isabelle, but I believed I had things under control.
“Everything I'm doing, everything I have done is for the election.” I responded in a low tone. Pietro still looked doubtful. I spoke softly so Isabelle wouldn't hear me, that in itself was a problem. I was trying to spare her feelings. There was only one reason why I would do that, and it was something I refused to admit.
A lot was riding on the election and I did not have the luxury of indulging in feelings. So no matter what I felt for Isabelle, I could not explore or admit it right now.
However, at my words, Isabelle looked up with reddish eyes. She had heard me. Once again, I felt awful. We both knew the real circumstances behind our relationship, but we couldn't stop ourselves from getting our feelings involved. I could tell that I had hurt her again.
A small snort interrupted my thoughts, I turned to look at Pietro again. He still looked unconvinced. I stepped out of the room, Pietro following right after me, so we could speak freely.
“What about the collaboration with Don Antonio? That's a risky move, brother.” He said, and I wanted to groan out loud.
He was right, working with Don Antonio was like trying to ride a tiger; you always had to be aware that the tiger could buck you off and maul you at any given moment. It wasn't a decision I came to easily, and no matter what either of us said, we knew that this was merely a temporary truce.
“I know he isn't to be trusted, but great risk, great reward,” I said. It was something our father used to say before he died. Of course, our father died taking risks, so maybe quoting him at this moment wasn't the best thing to do.
During the last Cupola meeting, Don Antonio and I had agreed on a temporary truce, which he obviously had not been respecting. However, the idea was that we had to work together to find out who murdered Don Salvatore Messina and bring him to the Cupola triumvirate.
By killing Don Salvatore, someone had messed up the fragile ecosystem of the families. So whoever found the killer would get the respect of the other Dons and that of course would translate into support for the upcoming elections.
My main suspect was Don Antonio, and I believed he was just trying to cover his tracks. If I could get proof of this, I could inflict a serious blow on him. The currently vacant place in the Cupola triumvirate would be mine. I couldn't pass that up.
I explained this carefully to Pietro. I wanted to clear his doubts. While at home, we could disagree as much as possible, but once we were outside, we had to present a united front.
“Well, don't forget about the gathering tonight. You know how important it is for the election,” he finally said in a slightly apologetic tone. I was startled, as I had sunk so deeply into my thoughts that I had forgotten we were still chatting. I knew that was his way of saying that he was sorry for doubting me, so I nodded in response. I didn't verbally respond because I was still mulling over my previous realization. If my feelings were this tangled up over Isabelle, maybe he was right to doubt me and my plans.
However, his reminder helped me focus on what was important right now. The gathering tonight. The murder investigation. The election. Thinking about these things gave me a headache, but this was my life, and these were my responsibilities. I knew that I had to focus on the murder investigation.
With this in mind, my thoughts and gaze turned to Isabelle. I looked at her, the gears in my head turning and a plan starting to take shape.
“Isabelle” I started, and although I tried to keep my voice as gentle as possible, I knew it still sounded imposing. Her head jerked up the moment I called her name and for the first time that morning, she looked straight at me.
“You'll need a new dress for tonight's event.” I said, and she frowned in response.
“I don't think so. I have a perfectly good dress. The dress I wore to the wedding will do just fine. It's pretty and fancy enough for any event.” She said stubbornly. Her response made me scoff. Her dress was pretty but she needed something truly stunning to rub shoulders with the people we were going to meet. And she had been all over the gossip papers in it.
“It’s unacceptable for my fiancée to wear the same dress twice. You need something new, something that fits the occasion.” I said, and although she still had a stubborn look on her face, my words seemed to convince her.
“Just so you won't be shopping alone, why not invite your friend Sarah and make a day of it?” I suggested and, although she nodded, the look on her face told me that she was frustrated.
Maybe she didn't like how easily I had made plans for her, but I figured that she would be happy with the idea of seeing a familiar face.
"Don't forget we made a deal," I reminded her.
Although I knew she couldn't run while in my territory, I still told Pietro to assign some of my men to accompany her. It was for her protection and it doubled as my insurance that she wouldn't just run off to the American Consulate.
Once she agreed to my suggestion, I nodded and left the table. There was a further discussion to be had with Pietro, but the matters were so sensitive I wanted to be in my study to discuss things.
So Pietro and I moved to my private office. It was usually very organized, but due to the investigation that I had been conducting for the past few weeks, it looked like a mess.
The large oak desk was covered in documents and files. I had collected everything relating to the investigation here and gone over it at least once and still, I had yet to make any progress.
The new material on my desk were in manilla envelopes, containing reports from our informants. The reason why I hadn't talked to the spy we had in Antonio's operation was because frequent communication with him would have exposed him. If he was exposed, we would be running blind.
Pietro stood beside me, reading the reports with me. With every page I turned, it became more exasperating. I hated to give Antonio credit for anything, but he was good at covering up his tracks.
“Antonio has covered his tracks well. Every lead we've followed so far has brought us to a dead end.” I said out loud, and from the corner of my eyes, I saw Pietro nod in agreement.
“You're right. But we can't let him get away with this. We need to expose him.” He responded, and I knew he was right. I had to get the proof, but I had no idea how.
“We could mine for new resources. Don Antonio's operation network is so big, I don't believe he doesn't have a weak link.” I finally said.
I leaned back to rub my forehead with my fingers. I waited until the headache had dulled before speaking again.
“We need someone who can give us solid information. Someone who is close to Antonio's inner circle and has incentive to betray him.” I said, and having to say more, Pietro opened a file and handed it to me.
“This is the list of those in his inner circle. I've been looking into it. There is a lieutenant who's been showing signs of dissatisfaction with the Don’s leadership,” he said.
I tapped the file before me, my fingers landing on the name of the lieutenant, Luca. According to the information before me, Luca had worked with Antonio for years, but had recently been sidelined. Ever since Antonio began expanding his territory, he had been taking on new, foreign associates. I was surprised to see that he had pushed aside an old loyal subordinate for a foreigner.
However, this was good news. No doubt Luca was feeling angry and betrayed. And according to the information, his wife had just divorced him and moved to America. The double blow of a setback in his career and personal life might have been just what we need to turn him to our side.
There was the risk that since he was an old subordinate, his loyalty to Antonio would run so deep that even his current troubles couldn't shake it. However, this was our best option.
“Great risk, great reward?” I asked and Pietro nodded. “Arrange a meeting, but do it quietly. We can't afford to tip off Antonio.”
My decision was made, there was no turning back.