Chapter 15 #2
As a teenager, I’d entered a rebellious phase, the anger never satisfied. I’d been eager then to serve in my father’s army, barely tempered by the powerful man, although enough so that I’d left my home and my position altogether in search of something I’d yet to find.
They said that all things in life came full circle. In a way I agreed. I’d returned home two years later, no longer a boy but a man who’d grown three inches and put on eighty pounds of raw, hard muscle.
Much colder.
More focused.
Lethal to anyone daring to stand in my way. My sweet angel could attest to that.
The demons had never left, fed through acts of violence and irresponsible sadistic acts. It was a shock I’d survived my youth.
Once on the floor, we remained silent. My men knew what to do. This wasn’t about creating a bloodbath, merely silencing the opposition.
I moved ahead first and as soon as I rounded a corner, I shocked the first enemy soldier. Before he had a chance to reach inside his jacket, I shot him between the eyes.
With no time to waste, I rushed forward, grabbing another around the throat. He’d been prepared to send out an alarm. Within seconds, I crushed his windpipe, tossing him aside just as Jarvis staved off another before he had a chance to take a shot.
With silencers on our weapons, the noise was minimal.
The last guard remained by his door with his nose buried in a magazine, completely unaffected by the slaughter. He finally felt a presence and with his eyes open wide the barrel of the gun inches from his skull, I sensed he was praying for forgiveness from his maker.
There wouldn’t be any.
Pop! Pop!
The silence was pleasant, the dim lighting in the corridor keeping me calm.
“Wait here. Do not allow me to be interrupted,” I told Jarvis.
He’d already contacted our cleanup crew, who wouldn’t leave anything for the janitorial staff to handle in the morning.
I chuckled as I pushed open the door, shoving the gun into my suit jacket.
Once inside the room, I stood a few feet away from the bed, staring at the monitors. Annoyance fueled my anger. The fucker would live while my father was rotting in an expensive pine box.
Years before I’d learned what I could about Russo’s family.
His ancestors had come from Italy, still considered one of five powerful mafia families there.
He had two other sons, one of which had wanted nothing to do with his father’s regime.
He was a surgeon somewhere, which left one other male.
Whether or not the man was strong enough to step into his father’s shoes was unknown.
As I approached the bed, Vitelli seemed to sense my presence, shifting under the covers. Fortunately, he wasn’t on a breathing tube, which meant he would talk to me. However, he was on oxygen.
I glanced at the monitors again, waiting a few seconds.
“I know you’re awake and I can sense you can hear my voice. As you might imagine, Russo, I’m not in the mood to hear any bullshit. But we are going to talk.”
He pretended to be sleeping.
Daring to ignore me.
Sighing, I tried to remind myself that I was exhausted from the last few days, including watching over my guest. The pep talk didn’t seem to be doing any good.
I had little time for this bullshit. I pinched the air supply.
I had no clue just how necessary the air intake was, but I just didn’t care.
He was going to talk to me whether he liked it or not.
As expected, he gasped but opened his eyes. There was a hint of fear in them, but he tried his best to harden his look while keeping his composure. He obviously knew since I was standing in the room, that I held the fate of his miserable life in my hands.
I upped the game, covering his mouth and pinching his nose. The rage I felt was strangely easily able to control. Maybe just by looking at him my gut told me he’d embraced his mortality.
He was older than my father, the incident leaving him appearing frail. Maybe with age came wisdom or at least a desire to live out his miserable life. He was pleading with his eyes, slapping at my arm.
Still, I waited to allow him any additional air. However, this wasn’t getting me the answers I needed.
By the time I backed off, the monitors were beeping. Interference I wouldn’t tolerate. As he coughed, I took a step away, shoving my hands into my pockets.
“I assume you know who I am and if so, you’re fully aware of what I can do.
Now, we are going to talk, Vitelli. You were the last person to see my father alive and as you might imagine, I’m eager to learn what the two of you were discussing right before he died.
Now, we can simply have a frank discussion and I’ll leave, or I can become your worst nightmare. It’s entirely up to you.”
He stared at me for a few seconds, studying me as if trying to determine whether or not to have that discussion.
“Of course… I know who… you are.” He coughed again, the redness in his face finally diminishing even as he tried to sit up. “You remind me of your father, Alexander, who spoke so highly of you.”
I held my accusations as the past had no real place here. Yet the same intense emotions that had plagued me for years threatened to force my hand. I hungered for revenge, something my father should have done. Or my grandmother. Why she hadn’t placed some curse on the man was beyond me.
His first words weren’t what I’d expected.
“If you’re trying to lay the groundwork for a friendship, I assure you that won’t work. I’m not in the business of forgiveness.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. As you might imagine, I feel the same.” He was searching my eyes for the same answers I was seeking.
“If you’re trying to insinuate I had anything to do with Lorenzo’s death, you’re wrong. Given you know my reputation, you should know my act of revenge would have begun from the top down.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you.” He certainly hadn’t been so out of it with his injuries he hadn’t been told about his son’s murder. That meant he could have been cognizant enough to order a hit on me.
“Which is why you had me attacked at the courthouse.”
He seemed genuinely surprised. “I wasn’t aware. You’ll have to forgive me for not keeping up with current events. Between the haze of painkillers and mourning the murder of my son, I’ve had little energy to handle business.”
There was a hint of sincerity. “So you’re suggesting one of your other sons didn’t seek their own retaliation?”
His huff was followed by a wince, the monitors reflecting an increase in his blood pressure. “My sons know better than to go against my orders.”
Even his phrasing seemed off. I shook my head. This wasn’t going to be easy. “Let’s just cut to the chase, Vitelli. You’re suggesting you didn’t have my father murdered?”
“Contrary to what you might have heard, I did not consider your father our enemy. Mind you, I will do what’s necessary to protect my family.” A look of despair crossed his face.
“Do you know who shot you?”
“The list of enemies is long as I’m certain so was your father’s.”
Was he truly suggesting he had no clue? I found that hard to believe.
“Why were you engaged in a conversation with my father? You had absolutely nothing to discuss. Unless this was about Emmeline, trying to convince him to enter an unholy alliance. That won’t be allowed.”
“There is value in creating alliances, Alexander. Your father should have taught you that.” He was annoyed with me.
Too bad.
The frustration had ignited another wave of anger. I ripped out my weapon, pointing it at his head. “There is nothing to keep me from pulling the trigger, old man.”
“Except the truth. You crave the truth, but are you prepared for it? Your father was a true leader, a man refusing to succumb to the rage that’s kept you prisoner your entire life. I didn’t kill your father. I needed his help, which he’d agreed to providing.”
The bastard was trying to goad me. It wasn’t going to work. “What the hell did he agree to?”
“You’re not ready for the truth or to do what’s necessary to keep your family safe. You’re his firstborn son, yet you’ll never be a great leader like he was.”
“What the fuck is this? Another game?” I lost all sense of control, furious not only with him but also with my father for making some insane deal. “Is it in motion?”
When he didn’t answer, I came so close to putting a bullet into his brain, but the rage was personal. Years of guilt and shame, hating and doubting myself had come full circle.
This was personal.
With my hand wrapped around his throat, I squeezed, enjoying watching him flail and the monitors going crazy. I smiled seeing the haze building over his eyes and knowing I had his life in my hands.
“You fucker. You deserve to die.” I pounded him into the pillow, ignoring his wheezing. I just didn’t care.
A flash of light coming from nowhere startled me, a strange warmth capturing my attention.
Then I could see her face. My sweet angel. The beautiful woman telling me this wouldn’t ease my pain.
Fuck. Fuck…
I backed off just as I heard footsteps and a loud voice outside the door.
After shoving the weapon into my jacket, I raked my hands through my hair.
What in the fuck was I doing? He was right.
I wasn’t like my father. I wasn’t suddenly some great leader just because of his death.
This certainly didn’t honor the man or his memory.
I backed further toward the door, Jarvis finally pulling me out.
“What the fuck was that?” he hissed “The staff has to be on their way.”
“Nothing good.” Fury continued to tear through me as I headed to the stairs.
The reason my father had kept the potential alliance private was obvious.
He didn’t want to upset my mother. And he’d had an inkling of what I could do.
My sweet mother had been through too much pain years before, barely able to free herself from the misery.
It was a time I remembered far too well.
I fisted my hand, trying to control my breathing.
The anger that had consumed me had been born on the day I’d lost a portion of my soul. The control was slipping further.
Why did I have a feeling the man’s words had been a cryptic warning? Maybe that my soul had been taken by the very black magic I’d wanted nothing to do with. Maybe Catherine crashing into my life had been a last chance at finding happiness.
And saving my soul.
“Did he tell you anything?” he asked, jogging behind me as I rushed down the stairs. Suddenly, I needed air.
“Nothing worthwhile.” The last thing I wanted anyone to hear was that our father had been prepared to sell off my sister in marriage. I couldn’t fathom it. Why in God’s name would he do such a terrible thing?
To provide help to Vitelli? That didn’t sound right. Neither did the thought of combined wealth or power.
Although he was uncertain if he’d been the target or my father. That was clear to see.
His act of reaching out to my father had been about his future, not ours.
The past was brought back once again, the ugly twisting memories and despair that had almost destroyed our household and my father’s regime.
What I wanted to do was to force Vitelli to meet his maker on this very day, sending him straight to hell. Maybe his torment could bring some sense of peace to my family. However, even I’d seen the torment in the Italian’s eyes, the death of his son excruciating.
I was determined to discover the reason for his son’s death. At least my sister was protected. Now I needed to do the same for my family.
And for the woman who’d become a part of some twisted game.
Maybe some would say I was doing this to clear my conscience or to possibly open a space in heaven. I knew better. I wasn’t doing it for me or even for my beautiful guest. I was doing it for someone else entirely.
Especially since I wasn’t the firstborn son. I was the second.
A stolen throne.
A position of leadership I didn’t deserve.
The very reason my heart had turned to stone.