Chapter 49
Chapter forty-nine
Elio’s blood is on my hands and I’m not sorry. I’m only upset I wasn’t there to do it myself. They say an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, but I think it paves the way for clarity if you’re smart enough to survive.
Besides, his blood won’t be the first or last spilled in this war.
The steady hum of Dominic’s engine vibrates beneath my feet as the highway stretches ahead of us.
It feels good to be out and about while sitting passenger princess.
For the past three days, I’ve barricaded myself in my home with my family trying to figure out this chess match I’m unfortunately playing.
Thankfully no surprise attacks have occurred since I’ve been gifted the knight and I aim to keep it that way.
Taking a sip of coffee, my thoughts drift back to the chess piece. Knights don’t move in straight lines. They strike where you don’t expect them to. As the sun crests over the trees, I can’t help but wonder if this move is mine…or theirs.
“You’re quiet.” Dominic keeps his eyes on the road, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other rests possessively on my thigh.
“I’m just thinking and I’m tired,” I admit. We had gotten up early to beat the traffic but it appears everyone else had the same idea. I take another swig of my coffee and turn to him. “Do you want a sip?”
“No, thank you, my hands are quite comfortable where they’re at right now,” Dominic’s thumb strokes slow circles on my thigh. “Are you planning on keeping your family imprisoned in your house forever? You know it’s smart but not a long-term solution.”
I sigh. Good old Dominic, always blunt and to the point. “I want to, but I know I can’t. When we get back, I’ll let them go where they please, but everyone has to be armed at all times and have a guard with them.”
“Do you think the reason everything has been quiet these past few days is because you eliminated Elio?” Dominic squeezes my thigh.
“I think Elio was a part of this puzzle but he wasn’t the killer or the one behind it.
He was just a pawn. I think we surprised them by finding Gigi and they are planning their next attack.
Besides they can’t get us if we’re all together in one place guarded.
That was my thought behind it all.” I lean my head against the window, watching the trees move past in a blur.
“And remember I did get gifted a knight piece and an attack hasn’t happened.
Maybe it’s still in the process of being planned. ”
“Did you figure out who the knight represents?” Dominic flicks on his blinker and changes lanes.
“I don’t know. I need more time.” I take another sip and let the hazelnut flavor dance on my tongue. “I don’t want anyone else I care about to die. I feel like I let my dad down.”
“Cipi, you didn’t let your dad down. He would be proud of the way you took over the empire.”
“My dad wrote me the letter hours before he died and it sat in a box for the past ten years. I should have opened it right when Mama gave it to me after the funeral. Maybe I could have figured out who was behind this sooner so that he didn’t have to die in vain.
The night he died, I was out on a date with you.
If I had stayed home instead of going, maybe I could have saved him. ”
“That’s a lot of maybes,” Dominic rubs my leg.
“Cipi, you had no way of knowing when we went out to the movies that night that your father was going to die. Even if you had stayed home your father would have never let you into his office when he was discussing business matters. That door would have been closed all night. You can’t beat yourself over this, Cipi. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Then why does it feel like it is?” I breathe a sigh of relief as the Wisconsin border comes into view. The blue metal sign with the words Welcome to Wisconsin fills me with motivation. Our almost three hour journey is coming to an end.
Dominic pauses. “You know how I feel about your world, but everyone can see you’re doing the best you can.
You’ve taken control of a mess that should’ve buried you.
You’re hunting down the truth yourself when other people would have shied away from it.
Not to mention you’re one of the most badass females I’ve ever seen in my life.
To lead a mafia family as a woman with all the other male leaders looking down on you and showing them up is some of the baddest shit I’ve ever seen. ”
A chuckle escapes my lips. “I only wish it didn’t feel like I was always two steps behind.”
“You’re not. Little by little you’re uncovering everything and tracking down the killer. Very soon you’ll be the one on top.”
I turn my head to look at him. There’s fire in his eyes. It mirrors the burning desire for revenge that I feel inside of me. “You really believe that?”
His fingers press deeper into my thigh. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
Dominic turns the wheel into a quiet suburban neighborhood.
I glance out the window at the modest homes with neatly trimmed hedges, emerald green grass, and American flags hanging from the porches.
Dominic slows the car as we look for the address.
I squint to read the numbers on the mailbox.
“Twenty-four Bell Lane, this is it.”
Turning the wheel, Dominic pulls into the driveway of a small yellow ranch with a front porch. The tires crunch softly over the gravel as we park next to a beat-up old car.
Getting out, I survey the house. The house is covered in faded siding. White trim peels near the gutter. The porch sags slightly and the hanging flower baskets sway in the breeze. The property is small, about a quarter acre and is covered with towering maple trees.
“May I help you?” a voice calls.
Startled, I look up to see an old woman sitting in a chair on the front porch. Her figure hidden in the shadows.
“Good morning.” My boots clunk against the aging wood as we walk up the steps to the porch.
“Good morning.” The elderly woman sits in a wicker chair.
A burgundy heap of yarn is in her lap and knitting needles click between her fingers.
Her silver hair is pulled into a low bun and a cardigan hangs off one shoulder.
Next to her is a table where a paperback novel has been placed.
I glance at the title. It’s a dark mafia romance. How ironic.
“How may I help you?” The woman repeats. Curiosity lines her face. “Do you need directions?” She glances at the Illinois license plate.
I take a step closer to her. “We’re looking for Rosa Marconi? Are you her?”
Her knitting needles freeze mid-motion. A flicker of fear flashes across her face.
“No,” she whispers. “You must have the wrong person. I’m Mary. Mary Carmichael.”
I look at her eyes. They tell the truth.
“Are you sure?” I fold my arms.
“Of course, I’m sure. I don’t know anyone with that last name. I’ve lived here for years and have no relations to anyone in Illinois. Now if there’s nothing else I can help you with, I have a lot of knitting to catch up on.”
I settle down in the chair next to her. “I’m Cipriani Capuano, Rosa.” I place a hand on her arm.
She freezes when she hears my last name. Lowering her knitting needles she looks at me. “You’re…”
“Yes, I’m part of the Capuano Family. I’m Vincenzo Capuano’s daughter.
And you’re Rosa Marconi. One of the last living Marconis in the family.
We are not here to hurt you. I promise. We just want to talk.
That’s all. There’s a lot of chaos going on back in Chicago and your family seems to be behind it somehow.
I know you moved out of the state for safety and peace.
I promise you that if you help us out, your location will never be revealed, and you can continue to live life as you have for the last thirty years. ”
Hesitation crosses her face.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out one of the raven feathers that has been an unwanted birthday gift for me this entire month.
Fear appears in her eyes as she looks at it.
I place it in her lap.
She picks it up and twirls it between her fingers. Her shoulder sag as if the surprise visit has unleashed the past and now it weighs heavily on her. “I always did hate those feathers,” she mutters.
Turning, she places the feather on top of the dark mafia romance book “Very well.” She stands. “Come inside.”
Dominic glances at the book and looks at me. “I wonder if the leader is a female.”
“It would be nice if there were more books like that,” I mutter as we follow her through the creaky screen door into the house. But Rosa Marconi’s books are not my concern, I would like clarity for once.
The old woman gestures for us to sit at the dining room table.
“Would you like anything to drink or eat? I just made some scones.” She places a platter of golden-brown scones in the center of the table. Each one is plump with blueberries and the buttery scent wafts into our noses.
“I would love one, I’m starved,” Dominic reaches over and takes one.
I give him a look, but he ignores me. Clearly everything he has witnessed about poison being injected into food has gone out the window.
Rosa sits down at the opposite end of the table.
She folds her hands. “You’re right, Cipriani, I am Rosa Marconi.
When I moved here many years ago, I changed my name to Mary Carmichael.
I erased all evidence of Rosa Marconi and swore to never speak of her again.
I’m surprised that you found me. I thought I did a great job of eradicating my existence. ”
“Why did you do that?” I glance at Dominic who is devouring the scone as if he hasn’t eaten in days.