Chapter 15
MARCO
“I’m not saying you’re right,” I tell my brother, “but…maybe you’re a little right.”
I make my way toward Armani as he strolls the lush rows of our vineyard, a routine he’s developed for those times when he needs space to think outside the confines of his workspace.
The first place I looked for him was his office, then Dante’s office, then the company break room, but no dice.
Finally, our executive admin, Ruby, saw me pacing the halls like an anxious rat in a maze.
When I told her I needed Armani, she directed me to find him in his “other office.”
Turning to look over his shoulder now, he raises a brow and waits for me to catch up.
“I gotta say, I never thought I’d hear those words come out of your mouth, little bro,” he says dryly. “Now I’m intrigued.”
We’ve reached the memorial fountain at the center of the vineyard, the one where I brought Karina for a picnic once.
He gestures for me to sit, but I stay on my feet instead.
I’m so tired of sitting and lying down, and beyond that, my thoughts are making me too antsy to sit still.
Armani shrugs, smooths his tie, and drops onto the fountain ledge.
“So?” he prompts.
“Is one of our men on the Brunos’ payroll?” I ask.
That wasn’t how I intended to start this conversation, but it’s the only answer to this puzzle that makes any kind of sense to me.
My brother tilts his head. “I’m not following.”
I huff out a breath. “Let me back it up for you, then. Karina is…she’s not her usual self. We all see it. It’s like—like she isn’t even the same woman as the one the Brunos took.”
“You think something changed her while she was in their custody.”
“Yes! Exactly. They must have threatened her. With something big. Something that’s still hanging over her head like a guillotine blade, that has her so on edge that she can barely stand to be in the same room with us sometimes.
But that kind of threat only works if the Brunos can keep tabs on her, right?
Make sure she doesn’t put a toe out of line. ”
“Hm.”
A shadow crosses Armani’s face and he gets up, strolling over to a heavily grape-laden vine.
I don’t push him to say what he’s thinking, even though my own mind is reeling and fretful.
After popping a few of the almost-black grapes in his mouth and nodding to himself, he spits the seeds onto the ground and turns back to me.
Off my raised brows, he says, “It’s an interesting theory. The logic is there. Sergio Bruno puts one of his guys on the inside here, maybe one of our security team…they keep eyes on Karina around the clock, report back on the regular, keep her obedient. In fear of her life.”
He doesn’t sound convinced, but I can tell he’s at least considering it.
“Don’t you think it’s plausible?” I prod.
“Plausible, yes. Probable…I don’t know. It’d definitely be a smart move on their part.”
“Let’s walk some more,” I suggest. “Helps me think.”
“Sure.” Armani grins. “I know you need all the help you can get with that.”
I ignore the jab and head down a row, my brother at my side. The earthy, vegetal smell of the vines and the familiar scent of our myriad varieties of grapes, carried gently on the breeze, relaxes me. Well, as much as I can relax while I stress over my wife’s troubles.
Counting off on my fingers as I go, I tell him, “She’s been quiet and closed off.
Anxious as hell, though she tries to hide it.
Sometimes I think she’s going to twist her finger off right along with her engagement ring, she fiddles with the damn thing so much—a nervous tic she’s picked up.
She swears she’s fine when it’s obvious she’s not, which is a huge red flag—”
“These are all personality changes,” Armani interrupts. “I’m more concerned about her actions. The way she avoids conversations with the family. The random outbursts at the dinner table. How she’ll bolt from the room whenever we talk business.”
I nod. I can’t deny any of it. “Every time I try to talk to her about what’s wrong, she shuts me down. I can hardly get a word out of her about anything. It’s not like her to be so cagey.”
We’ve reached the top of a hill, and I’m out of breath. Armani stops and looks out over the vineyard, the perfectly spaced rows of grapevines, the dappled green mountains in the distance. It’s a beautiful view. One that I’ve taken for granted far too often.
I think about the tears in Karina’s eyes yesterday morning when we were in bed.
How she tried to hide them. I feel guilty for not confronting her about it in the moment, being more unyielding with her, working harder to get some solid answers, but dammit, she knows how to sideline me with the simplest touch.
“What else?” Armani asks.
This isn’t the most comfortable thing to talk about, but it bears acknowledging. “She gets emotional at odd moments. Any kind of…intimacy…seems to throw her for a loop, almost like being close sets her off. I don’t know what it is.”
“What happens when you point it out to her?”
“I wouldn’t be discussing this with you if she’d given me any kind of explanation.”
He shrugs. “Fair point.”
His gaze drifts off in the way that it does when he’s losing himself in thought.
I know Karina’s behavior has been weighing on him.
Mostly because he’s been suspicious of her since day one.
But while I’m concerned for her mental health, he’s probably pondering what she could be feeling guilty about.
Dissecting each word I said, looking for a clue or something shady that he can pin on Karina.
I know him all too well, which is why I considered not bringing this up to him in the first place.
But if anyone can get to the bottom of what the Brunos might’ve done to my wife, it’s Armani.
And once we find out, there’s nobody I’d rather have on my side when it comes to payback. He might be an asshole sometimes, but he’s still my brother. I know he’s got my back.
“Let’s head back,” he says, checking his watch. “I have a call to prep for.”
As we wend our way back toward the Bellanti offices, Armani rubs his chin.
“Break it down for me again, starting with the abduction. We’re missing something here,” he says.
“Okay. It was the day of the memorial, everything was copacetic, and suddenly she was gone. No one saw her leave, no one saw anyone grab her. Security cameras picked up that guy in coveralls and the fake florist van leaving the property. She was handed off to Pietro Manzo and then brought to her uncle. Days later, she was taken to that warehouse…for some reason.”
Armani grunts, nodding. “That’s the part I don’t get. Why bring her there? If they wanted to kill her, they would have.” He glances over at me. “Sorry. But it’s not adding up.”
“No, it isn’t. And the men guarding her weren’t their best guys, either. Not by a long shot. Considering how valuable the Brunos want us to think she is to them, they didn’t have her locked down well at all. I’m surprised it wasn’t a trap. It felt like one.”
Armani stops in his tracks and fixes me with that chilling gaze of his. This is the part of my brother that concerns me sometimes. How easily he can slip from concerned sibling into stone-cold Mafia hitman.
“You found her hiding in a corner. She hadn’t even been tied up properly, and there was only one guard standing watch over her,” he points out. “Their other guys were armed to the tits, sure, but they weren’t sharpshooters. I doubt any of them could shoot a fish in a barrel.”
“They weren’t that bad.”
Armani just snorts in disgust, shaking his head. He’s quiet for a moment, and then adds, “How’d we get that intel about the warehouse, again?”
“Someone overheard Bruno’s guys talking at a bar. Which, yeah. Fair point. What kind of mob men talk about their work in public? I guess the whole thing could have been a setup.”
Who had passed along that info about the warehouse?
I mull everything over as we step onto the gravel path that leads to the offices.
My brother’s not wrong about any of this.
The Brunos virtually planted that information exactly where they knew we’d hear it, and then all but rolled out the red carpet for us at the warehouse. They let us walk in there.
But why?
In the adrenaline rush and aftermath of everything that happened after Karina’s rescue, I’ve never properly assessed how easily we got her out of there.
But thinking about it now, it doesn’t make sense.
Bruno’s men barely put up a fight. It’s almost as if Sergio Bruno sacrificed his guards on purpose.
“Thanks for talking this over with me. I guess you’d better get back,” I say, gesturing at the offices in front of us.
Armani nods, but hesitates before pulling open the door.
“Your wife is stronger than she looks. I didn’t hold back when I questioned her—and not once did she crack.
But I don’t believe she knows nothing. I think she’s got a secret, and that she’s scared to death of it.
Whatever Bruno has on her, she knows she can’t afford to break. ”
So he’s in agreement about my theory. A hard shiver goes down my spine.
“I’ll try to find out more,” I tell him.
He lifts a dubious brow. “You better try hard. We need to know what the Brunos are planning next. Your car wreck obviously didn’t give them the outcome they hoped for, considering you’re still breathing. That means next time they’ll go twice as hard.”
I didn’t know my hatred of the Brunos could get any stronger, but here it is.
I keep thinking back on what Armani said about them threatening her so horrifically that she can’t afford to break.
What could they possibly be holding over her head?
Me? Or do they have some other collateral to use against her?
I know how Karina is. It wouldn’t take much to get her to obey if she thought it meant keeping someone in her life safe.
If the sabotage to my race car was some kind of punishment for her, does that mean she already broke whatever command the Brunos gave to her?
Or was that just a reminder of what they’re capable of, a scare tactic to keep her in her place?
Knowing how her uncle terrorized her in her younger years, I don’t doubt that these acts of violence are merely a game of chess to him.
He wants to be sure Karina sees him moving the pieces.
Armani and I are just about to part ways when a memory shakes loose.
“Hold up—Clayton.”
“What about him?” Armani says, checking his watch again. “Can it wait? I gotta—”
“No, listen. Charlie was the one who gave us that intel about the warehouse. She heard it from Clayton. He’d spent all day in the city trying to suss out some clues, remember?”
“I remember.” My brother smiles coldly. “I’ll question our guys. I’m not saying Clayton fucked us on purpose, but I’m not saying he didn’t. He either passed along bad intel because the Brunos played him, or…he and I have a whole lot to discuss down in the Deep Cellar.”
With that, he disappears inside the office building like a man on a mission. I don’t envy any person getting in his way today.
Back at the house, I sequester myself in the library with some ibuprofen and a cup of strong black tea, my laptop open on my knee.
That walk in the vineyard just about killed me, though I’m loath to admit how weak my body still is.
But it serves as a reminder that I need a serious dose of rest and relaxation, and so does my wife.
Which is why I’m Googling bed-and-breakfast spots within a few hours’ drive from here.
I’ve been wanting to do something special for Karina, to carve out some time for just the two of us.
She deserves some down time after everything that’s happened, and despite my attempt at spoiling her with breakfast in bed yesterday, she’s still in need of a real break.
A proper getaway. Not only that, but her birthday is in a few days, so it’s the perfect opportunity to whisk her away for a romantic weekend.
Taking out my phone, I make a few calls and set my plan into place.
I’m going to pamper the hell out of her.
Remind her that I’m her safe place just as much as she is mine.
I also want to get her somewhere far enough from both the Brunos and the Bellantis that she feels like she can breathe freely.
Hopefully she’ll let her guard down and finally open up to me.
I realize I may never get her to tell me the full story of what happened when she was abducted, but it’s not going to stop me from trying.
And no matter what else comes of this little getaway, I need her to know that she’s mine.