Chapter 5
Chapter five
The scent of coffee beans and creamy milk fills my nostrils as the aroma of cappuccino surrounds me. I emerge from the sea of blankets and take in the faint rays of light glowing behind the thick curtains. A sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach along with a wave of pain.
Today is the day I meet with Dominic.
My mind drifts back to our interaction from yesterday.
His hazel eyes.
His muscular physique.
Then reality checks me as I remember the disgust on his face at seeing me and how he looked at me like I’m a criminal. The comments he made about my family’s empire don’t sit well with me either.
“Get a grip girl,” I mutter.
Shifting upright I feel the stitches tug beneath the compression wrap. Everything hurts.
Footsteps thud outside my bedroom. The door creaks and I see Mama.
“Cipi? Are you awake, Tesoro?”
I should have never given my family a key to my house but I really didn’t have a choice in the matter. Our homes are right next to each other in the compound and they would be over here no matter what.
“Hi, Mama.” I push back the blankets, revealing my pink pajamas.
Mama walks over and places the back of her hand on my forehead. “You’re pale.”
“Mama, I’m fine.”
“Lift your shirt, I need to change your bandages.”
Reluctantly, I pull up my pajama top as she unwraps the dressing and inspects it.
“It’s healing well.” She puts some vaseline on the wound then begins winding a new bandage around my torso. “You’ll have a scar but we can get medicine for that.”
“It’s better than being dead,” I mutter.
She gives me a look. “Don’t say such things.” Grabbing my robe off the chair, she tosses it to me. “Andiamo, Nonna is making you breakfast. She said you need to keep your strength up.” She glides out of the room.
I push myself out of bed. My teeth clench as my chest tightens in protest. Every small movement pulls at the wound. It’s a sharp, burning reminder that I’m still breathing instead of lying in a casket.
Grabbing my robe, I struggle to put it on. Gratitude fills me. No matter how old I am, Mama and Nonna will always take care of me.
Then a wave of panic washes over me as I glance at the clock.
It’s eight o’clock.
I need to make sure they are out of the house before Dominic arrives or I might as well start planning mine and Dominic’s funeral.
Bracing myself, I make my way slowly to the stairs.
The hallway feels longer than it should. By the time I reach the stairs, my pulse is already too fast.
I stare down the long staircase to the foyer.
This is going to be painful.
Oh so painful.
But I refuse to show weakness.
Gripping the railing like my life depends on it, I lower myself onto the first step. How I remember when I used to run up and down this staircase with ease.
Pain flares, stealing the air from my lungs.
I won’t stop. I keep going.
Another step.
My legs feel wobbly.
Third step.
Lightheadedness creeps in. I tighten my grasp, nails digging into the wood.
Fuck this shit, I won’t show weakness.
I keep moving.
Fuck this bitch who tried to kill me.
Fuck the bastard who planned it.
Fuck whoever wants me dead.
The cursing continues as my feet touch each step.
Finally I reach the bottom.
Wait until I find the fucker who did this to me. I’ll make sure he pays with his life.
Forcing my breathing back under control, I enter the kitchen to find Nonna at the stove.
Mama is wiping a dish and placing it into the cabinet.
I sit down at the circular table in the breakfast nook.
The large bay window looks out into the gardens.
Mama places a plate in front of me that’s piled high with a frittata, cornetto, ciambella, fresh fruit, and bread.
I pick up the fork, my stomach growling as I eye all the delicious food. There is no way I can eat all of this, but I won’t dare say that to Nonna.
“Mangia,” Nonna calls as she stirs a pot. “You need to eat, you look like a ghost.”
“Don’t make me laugh, Nonna, it hurts too much.”
Mama sits down across from me and takes a sip of her espresso.
The front door opens and heels click across the wood floor. Gigi breezes into the kitchen wearing skinny jeans and a sweater. I almost choke on my frittata as I see Elio walk in behind her.
“How are you feeling sissy?” Gigi leans over and kisses my cheek.
“I’m fine.” I move the frittata around on my plate and give Elio a death stare. “What’s he doing here?”
“I would have told him to stay in the car, but he wanted to say hi and see how you were doing.” Gigi grabs his arm and squeezes it.
“He should have stayed in the car.” I take a bite of my food.
Elio gives me a smile. “I’m so glad to see you’re feeling better, Cipriani. That allergic reaction came out of nowhere.”
“What are you two up to today?” Mama interrupts. She stands up and looks at them.
“Elio is taking me to the mall for some retail therapy, and then we’re going on a picnic.”
“Sounds lovely. Would you like some extra goodies?” Nonna opens the oven and takes out a tray of blueberry muffins.
“We’ll take two, but Elio took care of everything.”
Nonna takes the muffins and puts them in a tin.
“I’ll come by later.” Gigi takes the container and flounces out of the room.
“It was so nice to see you all. Feel better Cipriani,” Elio calls as he follows her.
As soon as I hear the front door shut, I lunge for my phone. My fingers can’t type fast enough as I text Bruno and tell him to have Elio’s car tailed. I don’t trust him.
“I have a strange feeling about that boy,” Mama echoes my thoughts as she takes another sip of her cappuccino.
“Ay, Valentina.” Nonna hobbles over to the table and plops down. “He’s a good Italian boy. I’ve known Madeline a long time. She raised him right.”
I scoff. Then my heart plummets as I look at the time on the screen. Eight forty-five. Dominic is supposed to be here at nine. Even though Salvatore, Matteo, Bruno, and Lucia know about Dominic, I don’t want Nonna, Mama, and Gigi to find out. They’ll be all up in my business and make things worse.
“Thank you for this lovely breakfast.” I tread the waters cautiously. “Didn’t you say you were taking a Zumba class this morning, Mama? And Nonna has to get her hair done?”
“Are you trying to get rid of us?” Mama glances at me, her cup poised near her lips. She looks at my face. “You’re hiding something. You look guilty.”
“No. It’s just that I'm still feeling very tired. I want to rest and sleep today.”
“I see. Well I do have a Zumba class I need to get to.” Mama takes a last sip of her cappuccino and walks over to the sink.
“I’ll do all the dishes. I need something to occupy my mind,” I add.
Mama gives me a look.
“Fine, I’ll use the dishwasher,” I sigh.
Nonna turns off the oven. “I’ll put the extra food in the fridge and cover the muffins once they’ve cooled.”
“Grazie. Love you both.”
Giving me each a kiss, they leave, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Creeping to the living room, I peer through the curtains and watch them get into their cars and drive off.
Phew!
Wincing a little, I load the dishes into the dishwasher and turn it on. Just as I’m about to go upstairs to change, the doorbell rings.
Dammit. I ran out of time.
Glancing at the security app on my phone, I see Dominic standing on the stoop.
I glance down at my current attire: pajamas, robe, slippers, messy hair and no bra.
Lovely.
The doorbell rings again.
Groaning, I stride to the door. I can’t risk anyone seeing him even though I know nobody is home in the compound.
Flinging open the door, I grab his arm and pull him inside, slamming the door behind us.
My chest screams in protest.
Fuck, I regret making that move. I lean against the wall and bite back the pain.
“Good morning to you too. What’s the rush?” Dominic raises an eyebrow.
“I don’t want anyone to see you enter my house.” Placing a hand to my chest, I glance through the glass to make sure no one is outside.
“Oh I see. Of course. We can’t have the Capuano clan catching us and pestering us to death with questions.”
“Enough with your sarcasm.” I walk to the kitchen. “I already have someone trying to kill me, I don’t need to add my family to that list.”
“I don’t have anything against your family. I always liked them.” Dominic looks mildly offended as he follows me.
“Did you forget how you sided with the law and made comments about our empire?”
“And in all my years at the bureau I never went after your family.”
I turn around and take in his appearance. He’s dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt with a t-shirt underneath that conforms to his body in all the right places. A coffee tray with two steaming cups is in one hand, and a notebook is in the other. He places his things on the table.
“I brought you coffee, black like your soul.” He hands me a cup. “Nice outfit by the way.”
My cheeks grow warm as I glance down at my robe and slippers. Thank god the fabric is thick enough to hide the fact I’m not wearing a bra.
“Do you always greet your guests in fuzzy bunny slippers?” Dominic teases.
“Ha. Ha. You’re so funny.” I roll my eyes as I take the coffee. “Thanks.” I open the refrigerator door and take out the milk. “Nonna made me breakfast.” I nod at the assortment of food littering the table.
“Really, I always loved her cooking.”
I open the milk and pour some into the coffee. Then I hand him a plate and a fork. “Help yourself, she always makes enough for an army.”
“Thank you.” Dominic walks over, seats himself at the table, and piles the food onto his plate.
I settle into the chair across from him and watch as he begins to shovel food into his mouth. “You act like you haven’t eaten in forever.”
“That’s because I haven’t had a home cooked meal in forever. I rely on take out.” He opens the notebook while he continues eating. “Now tell me everything that happened step by step.”
“What?”
He gives me a look. “Tell me everything that happened the day you got shot. How am I supposed to figure out who wants you dead when I don’t even know how it happened in the first place?”
“Oh.” Taking a deep breath I give him a play by play of everything that happened here at this house last week. Dominic scribbles notes while continuing to eat.
“Where is the chess piece?” he asks when I finish.
I get up and walk to the living room where I’ve hidden the chess piece and feather in the drawer.
Returning, I place it in front of him.
“That’s your father’s chess piece.” Dominic turns the king over in his hand.
I’m shocked he remembered. “Yes, it is.”
“Where is the rest of the set?”
“I think it’s at Mama’s house.”
Dominic’s brow furrows. “Then you’re right. It must be someone close to you that wants you dead. They would have to be in your family’s good graces to be able to get access to something like this.” He looks at me. “Maybe you should change your locks.”
“I’m already on it. I have someone coming tomorrow.” I take another sip of coffee.
He turns the king piece over in his hand again. “Whoever this person is wants to send a message to you.”
“But why use a king piece? Why not a queen since that’s what I am.” I pick up my fork and move some eggs around on my plate so I don’t have to look at his face.
“Maybe they are trying to tell you something about your father? Who knows, maybe they couldn’t find the queen.” Dominic shrugs.
“But Lucia got that package just before I got shot,” I protest.
“Then maybe the box wasn’t supposed to go to you?”
“It had my name on it.”
Dominic ponders this. “If you supposedly died, the box would go to your family. They would open it and see the king piece.” He taps his pen.
“Wait a minute, maybe the king represents the head of the Marconi family. Maybe the message was supposed to mean that the head of the Marconi family wants to kill you.”
“But he’s been dead since 1995!”
“I don’t know Cipi, I’m just throwing out theories here.” Dominic sets the piece on the table and observes it. Glancing up, he locks eyes with me. I feel my stomach flutter.
I look away fast and stand up. “I’m going to go upstairs and change.”
Dominic looks me up and down. I pray my nipples aren’t showing through my robe. “I think you look just fine,” he replies, “Very cozy.”
“I’ll be right back.” I stand up and brush past him.
He grins, clearly amused by my discomfort. “Suit yourself. I’m going to reconstruct the scene.”
“What?” I pause in the doorframe.
“In order to find out how your killer moves we have to take a walk through hell.”
Shaking my head, I exit and climb the stairs. Halfway up, I lean over the railing and see Dominic scribbling something in his notebook.
I chide myself for almost losing my composure at breakfast. Even after all these years, one look from him can make my guarded walls start to crumble. I tap the railing with my fist and continue up the stairs. I can’t get distracted, not with everything on the line.
Besides, with all the bad blood between us, I’m sure Dominic Cartieri would rather go to bed with a rattlesnake than me.