40. Saverio
40
SAVERIO
K ristopher’s labored breathing echoes through the room, and each raspy inhale and exhale is a testament to his growing panic. A thin sheen of sweat glistens on his furrowed brow, droplets trickling down his ashen face. His complexion, once vibrant, has drained to a sickly pallor. Though his eyes dart around the room wildly, searching for anything to save him, he’s out of luck. The men in this room would kill him before they ever let him leave.
“I was paid to do it,” he finally says. Kristopher’s voice cracks awkwardly, his eyes drifting down to his shattered kneecap. “I was the one stalking Lucia three years ago, it’s true. But I was paid to do it. I didn’t know who requested it at first. It was just an order. I didn’t know she had ties with Saverio when I started following her around.”
Dante takes a step forward, his hands curling into fists. “Who gave the order?” He growls. “Who told you to follow my sister around?”
Kristopher hesitates, his eyes flicking from Dante to each of the brothers in turn. If he’s weighing how much to tell us, he should stop. The whole truth is coming out tonight. “It came from the President of the Destroyers. Priest,” he replies quietly.
Luciano’s jaw tightens with barely suppressed rage. “And you just blindly followed orders?”
“What else was I supposed to do?” Kristopher hisses, his eyes darting nervously between us. “The boss said follow this girl around, start doing shit that puts her on edge. Make her feel watched, you know? If one of your guys came to you and said an order like that made them uncomfortable, what would you say? You’d tell them to suck it up and do their job, right?”
He’s talking to me, his gaze settling on my face, searching for understanding. “I wouldn’t give an order like that,” I say firmly, my voice low and controlled. “Our business keeps women separate from the shit men like us do. That’s a line we don’t cross. Women and children are off-limits, always have been. It’s one of our most sacred rules.”
Salvatore interrupts a few moments later. “Hold on. You said you didn’t know who requested it at first . It wasn’t Priest?”
Kristopher shakes his head. “It was, and it wasn’t. Priest gave the order, but he was paid, too. A shit ton of money, I figure, given the cut I received.”
The money for the bar. It didn’t just come from illegal gun trades and drug deals with the Destroyers; it came from what he did to Lucia. “Who paid Priest?”
“It took me a few weeks to piece it all together, digging through contacts and calling in favors. But when I finally unraveled the mystery, I couldn’t believe it. You’re gonna love this one, Saverio.” Kristopher coughs violently, his body wracked with spasms. A fine mist of crimson droplets fills the air, hanging suspended for a moment before settling on his shirt. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, leaving a dark smear. “The trail of breadcrumbs, the money, the whispered orders—it all led back to you. Like the snake eating its own tail.”
Dante turns to look at me, his eyes narrowed in anger. “What the fuck did you do to my sister?”
Kristopher laughs and corrects himself before the scene gets out of hand. “Well, technically, it led back to Lucrezia.”
The room goes silent.
I feel the blood drain from my face at the mention of my banished little sister. Her name hits me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I can’t breathe.
“I’ve known who my father was since I turned fourteen. Mama didn’t want me to know, but I had my ways of finding things out. You know I followed your lives, watching from afar because it was all I could do? But when I met Lucrezia, it was game over for me.” Kristopher shakes his head, his eyes half-closing in delight as he recalls their first meeting. A wistful smile plays on his lips, and for a moment, he seems lost in the memory.
“I’d never met a girl like her before,” he continues, his voice taking on a dreamy quality. “She was fire and ice, beauty and danger all rolled into one. And she hated all of you with a passion that burned brighter than the sun.” His expression darkens slightly. “She wanted Lucia followed and harassed because it would keep Dante preoccupied. If he were worried about his sister, Lucrezia reckoned he wouldn’t be fucking around on her. It was a brilliant plan, really. Lucrezia always had a knack for manipulation.”
Dante’s face burns bright red—is it shame, or is it anger? “She was sixteen.”
“I know how fucking old she was,” Kristopher spits back, his eyes flashing with barely contained rage. “God, you never deserved her. Do you realize that? She was a force of fucking nature, a hurricane in human form, and you? You were just some piddly-ass gangster going around feuding with men who owed you pocket change. Lucrezia could have made you into a real man, a king among kings. Instead, you ignored her brilliance. You treated her like a goddamn inconvenience, a pebble in your shoe, instead of worshipping the goddess she truly was. It makes me sick just thinking about it.”
My stomach twists with disgust, bile rising in my throat. The way he talks about Lucrezia makes my skin crawl. His words drip with a twisted reverence that borders on obsession. “You were in love with her,” I state flatly, the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut. The pieces fall into place, painting a disturbing picture of Kristopher’s warped devotion to a woman he barely knew.
My half-brother doesn’t meet my gaze when he admits it. “I know it was wrong, but I couldn’t help it. The more time I spent with Lucrezia, the more I hated our father. He abused her, just like Dante abused her, just like you abused her.”
“I never put my hands on Lucrezia,” I growl. “And neither did Dante.”
“Abuse doesn’t have to be physical.” Kristopher adjusts his position on the couch, wincing with every shift of his body. His eyes narrow, filled with a mixture of pain and accusation. “Your father forced her to fuck his inner circle, treating her like nothing more than a plaything for his twisted games. This jackass,” he thumbs at Dante, “tossed her aside like garbage because she wasn’t enough of a damsel in distress. He couldn’t handle a woman with strength and agency. And you,” he turns his piercing gaze to me, “you never took her seriously. You dismissed her concerns, her fears, her ambitions. You all contributed to her suffering in your own ways, whether you realize it or not.”
Anger coils in my veins as I take a step back. I need to distance myself from Kristopher. If I get any closer, I’ll kill him. “She was a bloodthirsty bitch even at sixteen,” I murmur. “She wanted me to kill every Family in the Midwest that didn’t swear their allegiance to me. We would have made enemies across the entire country if we followed her plans.”
“She would have solidified the Castiglione place for a hundred years, but you were too stupid to see her vision.” Kristopher’s eyes narrow as he glares at me. He clears his throat, a wet, raspy sound that makes my skin crawl. Then, with deliberate slowness, he turns his head and spits on the ground. A thick, viscous blob of blood and mucus lands on the already-soiled carpet. “That’s another reason she wanted me to fuck with Lucia. It wouldn’t just keep Dante busy; it would unnerve you. It would drive you nuts. She figured Lucia would come crying to you when I pressed hard enough. But your little girlfriend kept her troubles to herself.”
Though the ground doesn’t crumble beneath me, it might as well. My head spins as my mind races through every memory of my baby sister, each one a dagger to my heart. The first time I held her in my arms, her tiny fingers curling around mine, her innocent eyes gazing up at me with complete trust. When she was five years old, and had an allergic reaction to a bee sting, her face swelling as I scooped her up and raced her to the hospital because our parents were away on business. The first time she showed interest in the darker side of the Family business, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of curiosity and determination that both thrilled and terrified me. When we huddled together at our oldest brother’s funeral, her small frame shaking with silent sobs as I tried to be strong for both of us.
I’ve spent the last three years hating myself for sending Lucrezia to Italy, forcing her to join a convent, and trapping her behind bars. I’ve been wracked with guilt over what I thought I should have done, tormenting myself with endless “what-ifs” and “if-onlys.” Every sleepless night, every moment of doubt, every pang of regret—it all crashes down.
The reality of the situation is that Lucrezia deserved everything she got.
She knew about my relationship with Lucia, every intimate detail and fragile moment we shared. She understood how tentative things were between us because of the Terlizzis’ looming presence, the constant threat they posed to our happiness. And she wielded that knowledge like a weapon in a deliberate attempt to hit me where it would hurt the most. I always knew she hated me. I was painfully aware that she wanted me dead, longed to see me suffer. But never in my darkest nightmares did I imagine she’d go as far as to hurt me in such a deeply personal way, striking at the very core of my vulnerabilities.
Dante’s voice cuts through my thoughts, low and dangerous. “ Your sister,” he sneers at me, “ my betrothed, was the one who wanted Lucia stalked and harassed?”
I shake my head slowly, the weight of it all sinking in. Lucrezia’s hatred for me runs deeper than I ever realized.
“What the hell does this all mean, Saverio?”
“It means she was trying to tear us all apart,” I finally say, my voice falling cold and flat in the small living room. “She wanted me out of the way, and she wanted you all to herself. And she was willing to do whatever it took to get what she wanted.”
A silence falls over the room, leaving us all spellbound with tension. I can’t cram any more information into my head; I can’t stand to listen to any more truths. “Thank you for your honesty,” I tell Kristopher. There’s more I want to know, but none of it matters right now. I can send Raffaele to interrogate him later. “You can keep the money and my share of the bar. We’re done.”
I turn to leave, but one last thing stops me. “I don’t ever want to see you again. Not at Bastard dinner, not at any family reunions, not even at Dillons shopping for groceries. Because so help me God, if I see you again, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
Kristopher nods quickly. “Y-yeah… I understand.”
I turn to leave, and the Terlizzis reluctantly follow. Outside, the cold morning air washes the shock from my system. Autumn is in full swing, and I pull my jacket tighter around my torso to keep the chill out.
“We were a good team in there,” Dante admits as he stands beside me.
I shoot him a disgusted, sidelong glance. “We could have been a good team for decades now, Dante, but you’ve always had something against me. I don’t know what it is; I don’t know why you hate me. But frankly, I’m sick of it.”
Dante’s face hardens in response to my accusation. “We don’t share the same values, Saverio.”
“Fuck values. This was never about values. It was about respect. I have always shown your family respect. I have always been there for your family.” I can feel my body vibrating with rage, and if I don’t get myself out of this situation soon, I will lose any semblance of self-control. “I love your sister. I have been in love with her since she was eighteen. We’ve gone through our shit and worked through our differences, but we still have a problem: you. You and your fucking family. I’ve been patient with Lucia because I don’t want her to burn bridges with the people she cares about most, but I’m done being patient. Lucia is mine by right, and she loves me whether she can freely admit it or not. And I’m tired of hiding our relationship and dealing with your sick, twisted jealousy. You can come to the wedding, or you can get run over by a bus for all I care, but I’m marrying your sister.”
I walk off the porch and down the street to where my car is parked. Too much has happened tonight; too many truths have been laid bare. It’s all out there now, but the fallout is just beginning.