Marcello
"Are you okay?" I ask Violet after her family leaves.
"I honestly don't know. But I will be," she replies.
"I'm sorry I didn't have time to prepare you." I pull her into my arms. I am sorry for that. She's been through enough shit already; she didn't need to be steamrolled like that.
"It's okay, really. I'm just… tired. That was a lot."
"Yeah," I agree. I didn't have the greatest dad either growing up, but at least I knew where I stood with him. But Violet? In the blink of an eye, her entire life has been turned upside down. "I'm here if you need to talk."
The smile she gives me is tired. "Thank you. For everything."
I pull her into my chest. "You don't need to thank me. I'll do anything for you."
Her eyes shine brightly. "I'm starting to believe you."
"Okay, what do you want to do now? Watch one of your house renovation shows?" I ask. I have a shitload of things I need to take care of, but Violet is my number one priority. There is nothing that can't wait until I'm sure she's okay.
She laughs, and it sounds a little bit more like her.
"Thank you. But I'm sure you have some big, bad mobster business you need to take care of.
I'm fine, Marcello, I really am." She rises to her tiptoes and kisses me chastely on the lips, igniting a desire for more.
"I'm going to lie down for a little bit, okay? Maybe later we can have dinner?"
I want to protest and go with her, but there is a knock on the door and my phone rings. She laughs and walks toward the bedroom.
"Dinner sounds good," I reply to her retreating form, watching her until she's out of sight, then I call, "Enter," hold up my hand for silence, and answer the phone.
Alejandro comes in and nods in my direction, followed by two other men carrying some god-awful-looking contraptions.
"Marcello Orsi?" a stranger's voice greets me on the other end of the phone. Distracted, I watch the men set the contraptions up in the corners. I wonder what they could possibly be doing until I remember Violet's humane traps. Fuck.
"Yes, who is this?" I'm still a bit sidetracked.
"Enzo Carbone," the stranger announces, getting my full attention.
"I was about to call you," I say, walking into my office and closing the door behind me. My voice is calm, clipped. I've been waiting for this conversation.
"You found them," Enzo says, no question in his voice. Just quiet certainty. "My children."
"They're not your children," I reply, keeping my tone level. "You gave up that right when you let Bianca disappear with them. When you left them to their fate and let the world think they were dead."
"I didn't let anything happen," he growls. "She ran. She stole everything from me—my name, my money, my blood." He exhales sharply through his nose. "And I paid for it. Every damn day."
I lean back in the chair behind my desk. "You're telling me this like I'm supposed to give a shit."
There's a beat of silence. A rustle, maybe him shifting in his seat.
"I don't want trouble with you, Marcello. I know who you are. I know what you're capable of. But I'm still their father. All I want… all I've wanted for years… is to see my kids again."
"You have a funny way of showing it," I snap. "Sending men to gun them down in a restaurant? Because that's what happened yesterday. Violet almost died."
A sharp inhale. "That wasn't supposed to happen. They were only supposed to bring her and the others in. Alive. My men got… carried away after you started shooting at them."
"You think I care about your excuses?" I slam my palm down on the desk, hard enough to rattle the pens. "They could have killed her."
"I told them not to hurt her!" Enzo barks, his mask of calm cracking. "I told them to bring her back to me. Her and her siblings. That's all I asked for."
"And what about Bianca?" I ask. "Did you tell them not to hurt her, too?"
"No," he says flatly. "Her, I want dead."
Of course he does. There's no hesitation in his voice, no remorse. And, I can't say that I blame him. If half of what I suspect is true, Bianca Carbone is a walking curse.
"I don't care about Bianca," I admit. "But your kids? They're mine now. Violet is mine. And if you want any sort of contact with her—or the others—you'll have to go through me."
"I don't want a war, Marcello."
"You won't get one," I say, voice low. "Unless you force my hand. If you do, I'll end you, Enzo. And I'll sleep like a baby after."
He chuckles dryly. "You sound like me when I was your age."
"I'm not like you," I growl. "I don't let what's mine get taken from me."
"I never meant for them to get hurt," Enzo says again, and this time I hear something real behind it. Regret. Maybe even grief. "I thought they were gone. For so long, I mourned ghosts. And now they're breathing again. Laughing. Living. And I wasn't part of any of it."
"They don't need you now," I say. "Especially not Violet. She's strong because of what she survived, not because of you."
"I still want to see her."
"Well, that's going to be her decision. Not mine. Not yours. Hers."
Silence stretches across the line, heavy and simmering.
"I'll be in touch," Enzo finally says.
"You do that. But in the meantime, stay the fuck out of my city," I say, then hang up before he can reply.
I sit there for a long moment, staring at the silent screen in my hand, feeling a storm churn in my gut. This is just the beginning of my day.
Next, I call Edoardo.
"When is the meeting?" I demand the moment he answers.
There's a beat of silence, then, "I talked to Manetti," he says, his voice laced with that smug calm he always mistakes for control. Manetti is the Capo dei Capi in Vegas, Enzo's boss. "Sounds to me like you brought this shitstorm on all by yourself, Marcello. This is your mess. Clean it up."
I clench my jaw. The little shit actually sounds like a real Don for a change. It's laughable, but he did his homework. He's still pissing me off, though.
I sneer, "Did he say that before or after you got on your knees and begged him not to burn your little empire to the ground?"
"Careful," he warns, but there's no real heat behind it. Edoardo doesn't know how to bite—only bark.
"I've been careful," I snap. "Careful not to undermine the very structure you're too busy sipping wine to reinforce.
While you were out rubbing elbows with cartel princes and pretending to be important, someone has tried to kill me three times, and now, the fucking Vegas family is breathing down my back. "
"And that's somehow my fault?" he fires back.
"Your fault is that you let the rot spread in our organization while you were too busy playing your own little games," I say. "And now your house is full of snakes, and I'm the only one with the balls to do something about it."
Silence.
"Where and when is the meeting?" I repeat, icing my voice.
"Tomorrow night. Manetti wants us in person. In Vegas."
I laugh out loud. "Yeah, that's not going to happen, and that's not the meeting I was talking about."
I'm not stupid enough to meet Manetti on his own turf; I don't care if he doesn't want to play over the phone.
I'm sure he'd rather look a man in the eyes before he decides whether to cut his throat or shake his hand.
It's a trait I can appreciate, but I'm not going to participate in that little game.
Manetti is smart, ruthless, and a hell of a lot more competent than the idiot I'm currently talking to. And I'm not walking into a trap.
"Someone offed Fabio, my mother-in-law's bodyguard—"
"Lover," I interrupt Edoardo.
He stays silent for a heartbeat or two, then continues without acknowledging my interruption, "We need to find out who did this."
"Why?" My question throws him off. "Why would I care about that when I'm trying to figure out who is after me?"
"Because it might be the same people." He sounds exasperated.
"Yeah, I don't think so. Have fun with that. I'll have my own meeting."
I cut the call. At least now I know they don't suspect that I'm behind Fabio's death.
Or if they do, Edoardo's too much of a spineless shit to say it out loud.
Margarita, though—she's a different story.
She doesn't bluff, and she doesn't forget.
That woman plays chess while the rest of them chase their own tails.
If she suspects me, she'll come. Quiet, calculated, and without warning.
Just like she's been doing for weeks now.