Chapter 2
Chapter two
Farfalla
Darkness surrounds me like a black velvet fog.
Fuck! Where am I?
Farfalla. Keep fighting.
Dad’s voice calls to me.
Dad? Where are you?
The heaviness of the obsidian void wraps around my limbs and crushes my lungs like a weighted blanket.
I don’t know if I’m fighting, floating, or dead.
I think I’m dead.
My body feels like it’s submerged in ice water. I can barely breathe.
A soft beep pierces through the onyx, like the toll of death descending upon me.
I wait for Dad to greet me.
Then the rhythmic metronome increases in volume, awakening me from slumber.
My eyelids twitch then open to light.
I blink. I feel like I’m staring at the sun underwater. Faint blurs of movement like ghosts shift around me.
I blink again.
My vision clears a little as a familiar face leans over me.
“Cipriani.”
I blink a third time and her face comes into focus.
“Mama?”
“I’m here, sweetie,” she breathes.
It’s Mom, not Dad.
I’m alive.
Her hand cradles my cheek and tears glisten in her eyes.
I try to speak. I need to know what happened, but my speech comes out garbled.
Mama hushes me. “Don’t talk. Save your strength.” Her olive cheeks are kissed scarlet, and she looks like all the fight has left her.
It’s then that I’m aware of the softness underneath me. Blankets are pulled to my chin. I feel my body but I don’t have the energy to move. Something is in my hand and monitors beep around me.
Cold fingers press against my forehead. It’s Nonna. A rosary weaves tightly through her fingers, and her lips move quickly in prayer.
Gigi hovers near the foot of the bed. Her wild curls are yanked back into a haphazard bun. Mascara stains her cheeks, and her eyes are swollen from crying.
“You’re alive, thank God,” Gigi murmurs, her voice cracking.
The air is somber. I feel like I’ve interrupted their period of mourning, like they expected me to die.
Ye of little faith.
“What happened?” I croak. My words are hoarse and raw.
“What happened is you almost died,” Gigi cries.
Mama waves a hand at her to keep her mouth shut.
“You’ve been out for six hours.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it.
“Dr. Reggiano got the bullet out, thank God. You were shot at three times, but only one hit you in the side. The bullet missed your lung by an inch. They almost lost you on the operating table. You’re lucky to be alive. ”
I shift slightly. There is a heaviness in my chest. Moving my hands under the blankets, my fingers touch the compression wrap wound tight around my chest and waist. Beneath it, I feel the gauze pads placed over the stitched incisions. There is a slight tugging when I shift my weight.
“I don’t feel any pain,” I whisper as I adjust the thin hospital gown.
“That’s because they’ve got you on all kinds of pain medications right now.
” Nonna nods to the IV pole that’s next to my bed.
A long tube snakes from the bag of fluid to the needle in my left hand.
“Once all that wears off, you’ll be in a lot of pain.
” She makes the sign of the cross and mutters something in Neapolitan dialect.
Gigi comes closer to me. “Someone at that party wanted you dead, sis.”
No shit.
“But who? Everyone at the party was family and close friends…” My voice trails off as I pause then glare at Gigi.
“Elio didn’t do it. I had eyes on him the whole time,” Gigi protests, reading my mind.
I don’t believe it, but I’m too exhausted to argue.
I search their faces for answers, but my family’s only response is silence. The reality is they don’t know who it could be and neither do I.
Sighing, I take in their disheveled appearances. They are all still dressed in their elegant gowns from the night before. Gigi is missing a gold earring. Nonna’s lipstick is smudged. Mama lost an eyelash. Wariness lines their faces, and dark circles are under their eyes.
A sinking feeling forms in the pit of my stomach. Flashbacks consume me like a whirlpool: cutting the cake, the sharp pinch at my side, lots of blood, pretending nothing was wrong so as not to freak out the guests, but they found out anyway, and then the mad dash to the hospital.
Everyone got checked at the door.
Everyone at the party was someone I trusted.
Well, as much as you can trust someone in this line of work.
The air becomes heavy with unspeakable thoughts.
I gasp.
Someone at that party has betrayed me.
Someone I trusted wanted me dead.
Someone I cared for tried to kill me.
What the fuck.
I part my lips to say the inevitable when the door opens interrupting me.
Bruno enters, followed by Salvatore.
“Thank God, you survived!” Bruno exhales and bows his head, touching his cross. His fancy jacket is gone and his shirt is half-untucked. Even through his gratitude I can tell by his clenched jaw that he’s pissed.
“Grazie a Dio,” Salvatore breathes. His gray hair is mussed and his eyes are swollen from lack of sleep.
Bruno grabs the bed rail with both hands, locking eyes with Mother and Nonna. “I hate to interrupt this joyous moment but we need to speak with Cipi, alone.” A serious expression crosses his face.
Mama’s eyes turn stormy. “Bruno,” she hisses. “Are you crazy? Cipi almost died. I’m not leaving my daughter’s side.”
“It will be quick Valentina, I promise,” Bruno begs. “I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t important. It will only take a minute, please.”
“It’s okay, Mama,” I whisper.
Mama kisses my forehead and smooths my hair. Straightening, she gestures to Nonna and Gigi. “We are going downstairs to get coffee, then we are coming right back.”
“Hospital coffee sucks,” Nonna makes a face. “They can’t even make an espresso.”
“We know, Nonna, but let’s go anyway,” Gigi takes her arm. “We can get a donut.”
“I like the ones with the sprinkles,” Nonna grumbles. She leans over and presses the rosary into my hand as Gigi kisses my cheek.
They leave reluctantly.
Taking a deep breath I stare at the faces of the two people I trust most.
It’s bad news.
I know it’s bad news.
“Alright, spit it out,” I croak.
Salvatore’s shoulders slump as he pulls a chair next to me and sits down. He leans forward, elbows on his thighs, and buries his face in his hands. A heavy sigh escapes him, like the weight of the world is pressing down on him.
“I hate to even discuss such matters with the state you’re in.” He rights himself. “But we don’t have a choice. Someone tried to kill you at your party.”
“No shit. That’s obvious.” My response is filled with sarcasm.
“The thing is it has to be someone in your circle because this was planned too well. They knew the layout of the house and used a silencer so no one would hear the sounds. And they fired so it only hit you and no one else. Very tactical, almost like the work of a sniper.”
“But Mama said they missed two shots,” I wheeze.
“True, but even the missed shots were perfection. They hit the wall behind you.
“Do we know who did it?” A sick feeling churns in my gut.
Bruno slams his fist into the wall. “No we don’t.
The stupid fuck was very smart and knew about the location of the cameras.
After reviewing the security footage there is a three minute window where everything goes black.
It’s enough time for the shots to be fired without detection.
And the bastard positioned himself in a blind spot where no cameras could detect the movement. It was definitely an inside job.”
Cold washes over me. “Are you sure?”
“I swear, Farfalla. It has to be someone close to us. Everyone in that room had an invite, they were on the list, and got checked in at the door. All the other entrances were locked and guarded. Our assassin knew how to get in and out without being seen and we haven’t found a gun either.
It has to be someone at the party who did this to you. ”
I flinch at his word choice.
Assassin.
As the head of this family, I’m always the one calling the hits and I always succeed.
It’s normal for people to target me but never in my wildest dreams did I ever think someone would come so close and almost succeed in dethroning me.
Not to mention it being someone in my syndicate.
“Elio,” I blurt out. “I didn’t invite him, he wasn’t on the list. Gigi tells me she had eyes on him but I know she’s infatuated.”
Bruno shakes his head. “I wish it was that easy, Farfalla. You may not have invited him but your mom put him on the list. He was by Madeline’s side the entire time you were doing your toast. Multiple people saw him.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. It would have been easier to blame Elio than face the fact that someone I trusted wanted me dead.
“Do any of the guests know what happened to me?” I ask.
Bruno walks to the window and looks out at the city.
“There are rumors but we haven’t told anyone anything.
You concealed the wound well with that dress.
Many believe you were poisoned, no one suspects a shooting.
” He bangs his fist on the sill. “For the first time in my life, I’m stumped.
Everything was so well thought out, everything was executed perfectly, leaving no trace and no clue.
It’s like the attacker was inside our heads. ”
“Bruno is leaving out the part where we are going to make a statement saying that you had an allergic reaction and had to go to the hospital.” Salvatore rubs his temples.
“But I’m not allergic to anything,” I protest.
“Well tonight you are,” Salvatore replies. “We don’t want the other families to know there is a traitor in our circle.”
“Whoever did this to you will try again,” Bruno confirms. “We’ll spread around the allergic reaction as a cover. Gigi is good with social media, she can start the gossip mill turning.”
“Ok, fine,” I lean back against the pillow. “Where’s Lucia?”
“No one has seen her at all,” Salvatore responds.
A flicker of unease twists in my gut. Lucia would never skip my events, especially my own party.
“Something must have happened to her. Did you send the soldiers to the warehouse?”
“Yes. There was a delivery but it wasn’t the shipment we were expecting.
The gifts are being dropped off as we speak.
Matteo is there now.” Bruno paces the room.
“I don’t like this at all. This shooter needed some serious connections and power to pull this off.
We went through every name on the guest list, cross-checked for ties to rivals and found nothing.
I’m almost scared to ask anyone in our circle to do any kind of digging because they could be working with the person who shot you.
” He pauses at the foot of my bed. “You can’t trust anyone at the moment. ”
“I almost feel it would be wise to hire someone from the outside to find out who did this. Someone you know but has no ties to rivals and is a neutral party,” Salvatore muses.
My stomach knots as a thought flashes through my brain.
“The reality is we can’t hire a normal person to investigate, we can’t risk them snitching on us to the cops,” Bruno mutters. “We need someone we know but is more of an acquaintance and will keep his mouth shut.”
I grit my teeth. I didn’t want to resort to this, but this may be my only option to keep me from an early grave. “I might know someone who has the power and knowledge to figure out who did this.”
Salvatore and Bruno shoot a knowing glance at each other.
“It better not be who I’m thinking of, Farfalla,” Salvatore groans.
“It is but we have no choice.”
Bruno bangs his fist on the table. “Hell no! You can’t be serious. Farfalla! It’s been fourteen years. Fanculo a questo ragazzo. He broke your heart. Dominic Fucking Cartieri. I hate him. If it weren’t for you, he would have been at the bottom of a lake with a cement block around his neck.”
“It’s the logical choice, Bruno,” Salvatore interrupts his tangent.
“I forbid it,” Bruno snarls.
“You think I want to do this?” I snap. “It’s our only option.”
“There are always other options,” Bruno argues.
“Cipriani is thinking with her brain and not her emotions, unlike you,” Salvatore advises.
“I know you don’t like it, Bruno, but the facts are what they are.
Dominic Cartieri’s reputation precedes him.
He has a world of intelligence at his fingertips and the bastard doesn’t care who he pisses off.
He can find out who shot her when no one else can. ”
“What makes you all think he will joyously accept our proposal?” Bruno snarls. “He hates us as much as we hate him.”
“Unfortunately, multiple hearts were broken in that situation,” Salvatore sighs. “However, it has been fourteen years, I would hope everyone has matured by now.” He glares at Bruno.
“That fuck won’t want the job,” Bruno growls. “He hates everything we are.”
“Then we’ll give him an offer he can’t say no to,” I chuckle.
“Don’t worry about it.” Salvatore clasps Bruno’s shoulders. “I’ll figure something out.” He looks at me. “Do you want me to reach out to him?”
I swallow down the yes that’s threatening to leap from my lips. “No, Sal. I’ll do it. Once I’m released from this hospital, I’ll pay him a visit in person. It’s better if it comes from me than someone in the family.”
Bruno snorts. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure that mafia hater will love that.”
“Bruno,” Salvatore warns.
“How do you know he won’t find the guy who tried to ice our Farfalla, then join forces with them to take out the whole family.” Bruno folds his arms. “A man who gets his heart broken by a woman always wants revenge.”
“He broke my heart first,” I snap. Every instinct in me screams this is a bad idea but this looks like our only hope of stopping another bullet intent on finishing me off.
“Alright, fine,” Bruno snarls. “But if that fucker tries to pull any funny shit, he’s dead. I’ll bury him, and that’s a promise I intend to keep.”
“If that happens, Bruno, I’ll bring the shovel and do it myself.” I bite the inside of my cheek. I’m really going to go to hell and ask the devil to help me. I just hope it pays off.
Bang!
The door flies open and smacks the wall with a sharp crack.
Startled, we all look up to see Lucia burst into the room.