Chapter 20
Twenty
F allon
The next morning
Leone sits at the head of the table, his expression stoic as he sips his coffee. Vittorio is next to him, his sharp eyes assessing the room with a calculating gaze. Lorenzo and Dante are seated across from me, their faces unreadable, though Dante’s eyes flicker with something darker as they occasionally land on Milo and me.
We eat breakfast in near silence, the only sounds being the clinking of cutlery and the occasional murmur of conversation when I notice Gina hasn’t joined us.
“So,” Vittorio finally breaks the silence, his voice commanding as he glances over at Leone. “The meeting with the Mexicans—do I need to be worried?”
Leone shakes his head, setting his coffee cup down with a decisive clink. “No. The Mexicans are more concerned about the Russians encroaching on their territory. They want to ensure we won’t be siding with the Russians in any deals.”
Vittorio seems thoughtful for a second. “Good. We need to keep them on our side, especially with the Russians moving in on our shipments.”
“It will be handled,” Leone replies, setting his napkin aside. “Where’s Gina?” I ask, my voice small in the large room.
Vittorio turns to me, his expression softening just slightly. “Lorenzo dropped her home this morning,” he says. “She’s resting. It’s been a long few days for her.”
I nod. Gina’s absence makes me uneasy, but I don’t press the issue further, knowing it’s not my place. I hate the tension in the room. At least with Gina, it isn’t so suffocating.
Milo, who’s been quietly eating beside me, speaks up. “I’ll get ready to go with you,” he says, standing as if to leave the table.
But Leone quickly shakes his head, his tone firm. “No, Milo. Stay here with Fallon. I want you to keep an eye on things. Remember, Dominic is picking up Sienna today. I don’t want any issues, especially with Rocco.”
Milo meets Leone’s gaze for a moment, then nods in understanding. “Of course,” he replies, though there’s a slight tension in his posture.
Leone then looks at Dante, his expression hardening. “Dante, you’ll meet us at the casino. I want you and Lorenzo there with us.”
Dante nods, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Understood.”
As everyone finishes their meals, I rise to clear my plate. I take it into the kitchen, my mind buzzing with the conversation I’ve just overheard.
Leone follows me into the kitchen. As I place my plate in the sink, he steps close, his hand brushing my lower back as he leans down to kiss me softly. “Behave,” he murmurs against my lips, the words both a warning and a promise.
I nod, my throat tight as I watch him leave, his broad shoulders disappearing out of the kitchen door. Milo enters shortly after, his plate in hand. He places it in the dishwasher before turning to me, with a hint of a smile.
“Shower?” he asks, his voice low and teasing as he cups my face gently.
I hesitate only for a moment then nod, the tension in me easing slightly under his touch.
Just as we are about to leave the kitchen, Dante appears in the doorway, his sharp eyes narrowing as he watches the exchange between us. I stiffen, instinctively stepping away from Milo, but not before Dante’s gaze hardens, suspicion flickering in his dark eyes.
“Are you two going somewhere?” Dante asks as he sets his plate in the sink.
Milo keeps his expression neutral, but his body tenses slightly. “Just heading upstairs,” he replies casually, his hand sliding to the small of my back as he pushes me toward the door; we head up the hall to the stairs.
“What’s up with him?” I ask Milo
“No idea, but Leone thinks he may be up to something,” Milo tells me when I hear Dante walking up the hall. We climb the stairs to our room.
“Lorenzo, let’s go,” Dante calls out, his voice echoing through the hallway.
I hear the front door open and close as Dante and Lorenzo leave, the tension in the air lifts just slightly with their departure.
Milo waits a moment before he takes my hand, leading me upstairs. The unease from Dante’s scrutiny lingers, but I push it aside, focusing instead on the warmth of Milo’s touch as we enter the bathroom.
The shower’s hot water beats down on us, washing away the stress of the morning. As steam fills the room, the tension between us shifts, becoming something more heated. Milo’s hands move over my body with a familiarity that makes me feel safe and wanted.
His lips find mine, a sweet, slow kiss that contrasts with the hot water raining down on us. I reach up, tangling my fingers in his wet hair as he pulls me closer, his hands sliding down to grip my hips.
Milo’s lips trail down to my neck, sending shivers of desire down my spine. His breath is warm against my wet skin, his touch inciting a hunger that only he seems to satisfy. He pushes me against the cold tiles, the contrast only amplifying the heat between us.
We stumble out of the shower, water dripping onto the floor as we move toward the bed. Milo’s lips are on mine again, his hands guiding me down onto the mattress. There’s a desperation in the way we move together, a need to drown out the world outside with the fire burning between us.
“We'll ruin the sheets,” I whine at him, but he doesn’t seem to care, instead moving on top of me and pressing me into the mattress.
But just as things start to escalate, the bedroom door slams open, and the sound is like a gunshot in the quiet room. I freeze, my heart leaping into my throat as I turn to see Dante standing in the doorway with Lorenzo, his eyes blazing with fury.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Dante’s voice is a low growl, his gaze shifting between Milo and me with barely restrained rage.
Milo’s body tenses, his protective instincts kicking in as he moves to shield me from Dante’s view. “Dante, this isn’t what it looks like,” he starts, but Dante’s snarl cuts him off.
“Isn’t it?” Dante takes a step into the room, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “You’re fucking Leone’s wife, Milo? Have you lost your goddamn mind?”
My heart races as I scramble to cover myself with the sheets, my mind spinning with fear and confusion.
Milo stays between me and Dante, his voice calm but firm as he tries to defuse the situation. “Dante, just ring Leone. He’ll?—”
“No!” Dante’s voice rises, his anger spilling over. “I’m done listening. Leone trusted you, and this is how you repay him? By fucking his wife behind his back?”
The words hang heavy in the air, the accusation sharp and brutal. My chest tightens, my breath coming in short gasps as the reality of the situation sinks in.
Dante’s gaze shifts to me, his eyes filled with contempt. “And you,” he sneers. “Playing the innocent wife, but you’re just a whore, aren’t you?”
Milo moves faster than I can react, his fist connecting with Dante’s jaw with a sickening thud. Dante stumbles back, caught off guard by the force of the blow, but the look in his eyes promises retribution.
“Fucking bastard!” Dante spits, wiping blood from his split lip. He lunges at Milo, and the room explodes into chaos. The two of them crash into the dresser, sending a lamp and various other items tumbling to the floor, shattering on impact.
I scream as they wrestle, throwing punches with a ferocity that makes my stomach churn. Dante grabs Milo by the throat, shoving him against the wall with a force that makes the entire room shake.
“You think you can take what’s mine? You think you can just fuck my brother’s wife?” Dante snarls, his voice thick with rage.
Milo growls, bringing his knee up sharply into Dante’s stomach, causing him to double over with a grunt of pain. “You have no idea what you’re talking about!” Milo shouts, throwing another punch that sends Dante reeling.
But before Milo can press the advantage, Lorenzo steps forward, a cold, menacing smile on his face as he pulls out his gun. He doesn’t hesitate, moving with lethal precision as he cocks the gun and points it directly at my head.
“Enough,” Lorenzo says coldly, his voice cutting through the chaos like a knife. “Milo, you move another inch, and I’ll blow her fucking brains out.”
Milo freezes, his fists still clenched, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes lock onto mine, filled with desperation and fear. I can see him weighing his options, but there’s nothing he can do. Not with a gun pointed at my head.
Dante straightens, adjusting his clothes and wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. He spits out another mouthful of blood, his eyes narrowing as he glares at Milo. “You’ve made a huge fucking mistake,” Dante growls, venom dripping from every word. He nods to Lorenzo. “Take him to the basement. We’ll see how tough he is then.”
Lorenzo doesn’t lower the gun as he motions for Milo to move. “Walk,” he orders, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Milo hesitates, his eyes flicking back to me, but I shake my head, silently begging him to just do as they say. There’s no winning this fight, not like this.
As Milo steps forward, Lorenzo keeps the gun trained on me, his expression cold and detached. My heart races as Milo is walked out of the room, knowing they’re taking him to the basement—to the place where Leone’s most brutal punishments are carried out.
As they lead Milo down the stairs, Maria appears at the bottom of the landing. Her eyes widen in horror as she takes in the scene. “What’s happening?” she gasps, her voice trembling.
Milo doesn’t stop walking, his eyes on her. “Call Leone,” he orders, his voice steady despite the fear I feel. “Tell him to get home.”
Maria’s face pales as she nods and rushes off, leaving me alone with Dante and Lorenzo, who shove us down the basement steps. I shudder at the thought of being down here. Milo steps into the room with a shake of his head, clearly annoyed. “You’re making a mistake, Dante,” Milo tells him as Lorenzo shoves me into the room.
Dante’s sneer returns as he turns to me, the loathing in his eyes making my skin crawl. “You think you’re clever, don’t you? Manipulating both of them like that?” He steps closer, his hand raised.
I don’t have time to react, Dante’s hand cracks across my face, sending me crashing to the floor, pain explodes across my cheek, and I taste blood as my teeth bite into my tongue.
“Dante, stop!” Milo shouts, trying to lunge toward me, but Lorenzo is faster, pressing the gun against Milo’s chest and forcing him to step back.
Dante chuckles darkly, his gaze shifting from me to Milo as he towers over him. “You’re going to pay for this, Milo. Finally my father will see how unfit Leone is when he can’t control his own men,” he says, his voice low and dangerous.
He swings his fist, landing a brutal punch to Milo’s stomach. Milo doubles over with a groan, his body crumpling under the force of the blow.
“Dante, don’t fucking touch her,” Milo gasps, trying to catch his breath.
But Dante doesn’t care. He just laughs, a cold, heartless sound that sends shivers down my spine. “No, Milo. The mistake was my brother trusting you,” he says, nodding to Lorenzo.
Without another word, Lorenzo steps forward and kicks Milo in the face; my scream echoes off the walls as Milo reels backward, his blood spraying the walls when Lorenzo starts beating Milo with ruthless efficiency. Milo’s groans fill the room, each sound tearing at my heart.
I try to push myself up, to do something, but Dante’s hand in my hair holds me down on the ground, forcing me to watch.
Dante watches with cold satisfaction, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “Take your time, Lorenzo. I want him to suffer,” he orders, his voice devoid of any emotion as if he’s talking about the weather.
Tears blur my vision as I watch Milo being beaten, his body slumped against the wall, barely able to hold himself up. This isn’t supposed to happen. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.
I have to do something. I can’t let this happen. But as I try to crawl toward Milo, Dante steps in front of me, blocking my path. He crouches down, grabbing me by the hair and forcing me to stare up at him.
“Don’t worry, Fallon,” he whispers, his voice dripping with malice. “This is just the beginning. Your turn will be next.”
He shoves me back down, my head hitting the floor with a sickening thud. Darkness threatens to pull me under, but I fight it, clinging to consciousness by sheer willpower. I have to stay awake. I have to find a way to help Milo.
But as Lorenzo’s fists continue to rain down on Milo, I realize with a sickening dread that there’s nothing I can do. Not now.
All I can do is pray Leone gets here in time.
“Dante, no!” I scream, my heart pounding in my chest as Lorenzo grabs Milo by the arm, dragging him out of the bed. “Please, don’t do this!”
Milo struggles against Lorenzo’s grip, but he’s no match for the giant of a man when one eye is swollen shut. He’s forced to his feet, his eyes locking onto mine with a mixture of fear and desperation.
“Fallon, it’s okay,” he says, his voice strained as he tries to reassure me. “I’ll be okay.”
But I know he won’t be. And the thought of Milo being tortured, being hurt because of me, is unbearable.
“Please, Dante, call Leone!” I plead, my voice breaking as tears spill down my cheeks. “He didn’t do anything wrong!”
Dante’s gaze finally shifts to me, his eyes cold and devoid of any empathy. “He betrayed my brother,” he says simply, as if that justifies everything. “And he’ll pay for it.”
Before I can react, Lorenzo drags Milo over to the chair and starts strapping him down. My mind races, panic gripping me as I try to think of a way to stop this, to save Milo. But I’m frozen, paralyzed by fear and helplessness, when my eyes move to the open door.
With a surge of desperation, I make a run for the door. I don’t care about my nakedness, don’t care about anything except getting Milo help.
I hear Dante’s shout behind me, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop.
I run through the mansion, my feet pounding against the floors, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Moving quickly, I head for Rocco’s place out back, praying he’s there and that he can help me. But when I reach his door, I pound on it with all my strength, screaming his name, but there’s no answer.
Panic claws at my chest, threatening to choke me as I turn and run down the driveway, looking for one of Leone’s men, the cold air biting at my skin. I’m desperate, my mind a blur of fear and desperation. I don’t know where I’m going, don’t know what I’m going to do, but I can’t stop. Not until I have to find someone—anyone—who can help me.
Just as I’m about to collapse from exhaustion, a car comes into view, its headlights cutting through the darkness. Relief floods through me as I recognize the car—Leone’s car.
He slams on the brakes, the car skidding to a stop in front of me. The door flies open, and Leone jumps out, his eyes wide with shock and anger as he takes in my disheveled appearance.
“Fallon, what the fuck happened?” he demands, his voice laced with fury.
“Milo,” I manage to gasp, my voice barely above a whisper. “Dante… Dante is torturing him in the basement.”
Leone’s expression darkens, his jaw clenching as he pulls me into his arms, his body vibrating with barely restrained rage. “Get in the car,” he orders, his voice low and dangerous.
My body trembles as I climb into the car, my hands shaking uncontrollably. Vittorio, who had been in the passenger seat, quickly moves to the back, wrapping his coat around me as I huddle against him, my body wracked with sobs.
“What is going on? What happened?” Vittorio demands.
“Is it the Russians? Where is Milo?” Vittorio demands, while I can only stare ahead as Leone floors it and heads back to the house.