38. Chapter 38
Callahan
Rory’s small body trembled against mine and I rubbed small circles into her lower back, kissing her hair.
Elio cleared his throat behind me and my arms tightened around Rory reflexively. She pulled back, her eyes still glistening and her cheeks wet. I wiped her cheeks with my thumbs, my hands cupping her face as I leaned in and kissed her smiling lips gently.
“Is breá liom tú,” I whispered against her mouth. “I love you,” I said with more emphasis. A soft sob gusted across my lips so I kissed her again.
“As nice as it is watching you two have a moment, if we’re done here, I’ll be leaving now.”
I turned, glaring at Elio. “Sit the feck down before I put you in your seat.”
He dropped back down immediately. He was remarkably sweaty, his engorged belly heaving with his heavy, nervous breathing.
I led Rory back to the couch and pulled her into my side as tightly as I could. She curled into me, breathing deeply and wrapping one of her small hands around the inside of my thigh. My cock twitched.
Feck. Focus, man.
I took the tablet from Rory and navigated to the photos I needed. I spoke as I swiped around on my tablet. “You see, Elio, one thing you might not know about my wife, is that she’s sneaky. Thanks to your parental neglect, she got really good at sneaking around, hearing things you didn’t want her to hear, seeing things you didn’t want her to see. Before we met, she saw you putting a file with my picture on it in your desk drawer. The night that you threw that party for us, she snuck into your office.”
I turned the tablet around, the picture zoomed in on the part with my name and Cesare Marino listed as a successful match for paternity.
“She snuck into your office that night and found this in that file.”
I watched as Elio’s face paled and the men behind him exchanged glances and shifted from foot to foot. Elio visibly panicked for a moment before he sat up straight and tugged on his tie. “That report is fake, boy. I made it myself.” He cleared his throat twice. “I was hoping you’d find it. I wanted to prove that little snoop was in my office and you fell right into my trap. Now I know that I can’t trust you and can call off the peace treaty. I’ll be calling Mikhail and letting him know your plans to retaliate against him!” he said cockily, the warble in his voice betraying that confidence.
“That won’t be necessary,” Mikhail said as he entered the room. “I’m well aware of Cal’s plans to retaliate, just not against the Bratva.” He wore a sinister smile as he stopped to stand behind the couch we were seated on.
Rory relaxed against me a little as our friends entered the room, Mikhail flanked by Elliot and Nate, Lorcan bringing up the rear.
Rory opened the file she’d been holding. “We thought that might’ve been the case, so we took the liberty of calling the company that ran the DNA test. Luckily, they transferred all their files to a digital format before they got rid of the old paper ones, so they still had these results.” She laid papers out on the coffee table as she spoke and arranged them neatly, the casual movements betraying her nerves. I doubted anyone else even noticed, but I knew my solas and I saw the slight sheen of sweat on the back of her exposed neck, the tiny tremor in her hands as Elio’s anger brought brutal memories to the surface.
She paused, pulling out the final piece of paper and scanning it with her eyes as if she hadn’t read it a hundred times already. “And then we thought, ‘hm, this all seems really suspicious. Everyone suspects Elio of killing Cesare, and now we know that he’s Cal’s father and that he died just before Cal was born’. So, naturally, we started wondering about Cesare’s death. I contacted the coroner”s office and obtained a copy of his autopsy report. Turns out, Cesare did die of a heart attack, like you’ve been saying all these years. But, if the adrenaline induced heart attack hadn’t killed him, he would have died of mass organ failure due to prolonged arsenic exposure within a matter of weeks.”
She laid the last page down on the table, facing Elio and his men. Her breathing was a little spotty as she discreetly wiped her hands on the thighs of her jeans.
I was so proud of her in that moment. She was nervous in the face of her tormentor’s anger, but she refused to let it get to her, fighting with herself to stay strong and brave. I placed my hand on the back of her shoulder and ran it down the length of her shoulder blade until my hand rested comfortably in the dip of her waist.
Elio scoffed. “You can’t prove that someone poisoned him. Maybe the crazy bastard poisoned himself. Maybe he couldn’t stand the thought of fathering a child with that Irish bitch!”
My hands fisted and my teeth ground together. Lorcan stood, ready to defend his sister. My muscles shook with rage. As Elio raged on, his face red, sweat beading on his brow and upper lip, I leaned over and buried my nose in Rory’s hair, allowing her scent to calm me.
“And even if I did have him killed, there’s nothing you can do about it. I’ve been running this faction of the Cosa Nostra for nearly thirty years! My men are loyal! No one would support you if you tried to assert your claim!”
Marco, who had been quietly observing with the other men behind Elio, stepped forward. “I do.”
Rory’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. Surprise settled in my gut. This hadn’t been part of the plan.
Elio’s red face turned purple as he jerked his head to the side to glare at the man. “How dare you,” he growled.
“You killed my best friend. You killed his lover and tried to kill his child. You killed your wife and then spent the next decade and a half abusing her daughter. You are not a man worthy of loyalty or power.” Marco moved across the room to stand behind me.
“You’ve been my right hand for thirty years, Marco,” Elio hissed at him. “I will kill you for this.”
“I haven’t ever been your man, Elio. I’ve been plotting your demise, dreaming of your murder every single time I looked you in the eyes.”
“I think we’re getting off track here, boys,” Rory said. She was still curled into my side but I could feel the tension slowly leaving her body. “We’re not here to talk about Elio’s death. Or at least, not yet. That’s for others to decide. We’re here to talk about Cesare’s death, and Elio’s role in it. So, Elio, what’s the case? Did you just get power hungry? Realize that Cesare had produced an heir and got angry that you weren’t next in line anymore? Is that why you tried to have Cal killed after you killed his parents?”
“You need to learn to keep your fucking mouth shut, you piccola fica.”
Men all over the room tensed, the air changing from tense to frigid. I leaned forward but Rory sat up, her back ramrod straight. “No, you need to learn to watch yours, Elio. This is my home, this is where I am in charge. You will watch your tongue, or I will have my men cut it out and serve it to you for dinner.”
My dick swelled behind my zipper. I knew she’d never make good on that promise, at least, not the last half of it, but damn if it wasn’t fecking hot watching her take charge. I could still see the tiny hints of her nerves. The small beads of sweat on the back of her neck dampening her hairline. The way her pulse fluttered under her pale skin. The way her breathing sped up every time Elio’s eyes turned her way.
But she was so fecking strong, refusing to let her nerves get the best of her.
Elio heaved and hefted his body weight, rapidly bouncing on the couch until he was in a position where he could push himself to his feet. “You dare speak to me like that?! Don’t you remember the punishments I’m capable of-”
I joined him on my feet, the men around me closing in to make an imposing wall. “You have disrespected my mother. You have disrespected my father. You have disrespected me. But if you ever threaten my wife again, I swear to you on my parents’ graves, it will be the last thing you ever do.”
“You don’t scare me, boy. I have the entire Cosa Nostra behind me. What do you have? A small chapter of Irish farmers and wanna-be fighters behind you? What could you possibly do to me?” Elio’s chest puffed out like a peacock displaying its feathers. “Yeah, I killed your parents. I slowly poisoned my brother so everyone would think his health was failing. When he took too long to die, I gave him a massive dose of adrenaline and watched him die of a heart attack at my feet. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Marco stepped forward. “Cesare was a real Don. He earned our loyalty and respect. He loved each and every one of his men, just as we loved him. He was just as loyal to us as we were to him. You are nothing but a shadow of that man’s greatness and now, your own ego will be your takedown.”
It was only then I noticed his men slowly making their way out from behind the couch he’d been sitting on. Rory stood immediately, squishing herself to my side in her first open display of nerves. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled my gun from the shoulder holster at my side, turning so that she was partially behind me, ready to die to protect my wife and child. Connor and Carson quickly converged on her, their bodies tense.
But then one of the men spoke. A middle aged man with salt and pepper hair stepped forward. “Is that true, sir? Everything you just said about killing Cesare?” His voice was calm, but his face was red and a storm was brewing in his eyes.
Elio, misinterpreting the man’s calm, smiled proudly. “Damn right it is. I earned my spot as Don of the NYC-”
Elio broke off as the other man shoved his gun in his face, the others all drawing their weapons at the same time. Connor yanked Rory behind him, he and his twin and Nate making themselves her human shields as the room filled with glinting blades and firearms.
“I should kill you where you stand, traditore!”
For the first time tonight, Elio seemed to pause and realize the danger his temper and ego had put him in. He swallowed heavily, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “Johnny, get that gun out of my face before I have you killed.”
The man, Johnny, smirked at him. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a roomful of men pointing their guns at you right now, Elio. I think you’ve lost whatever power you held.”
Elio turned to one of the other men, one holding a wicked looking blade. “Slit his throat!”
The man didn’t move, but Rory pushed her way through the wall of flesh in front of her and shouted, “NO! Not here! I like my carpet, goddammit!”
I chuckled at her strange obsession with our carpet. Several of the Italian men turned to look at her, many of them chuckling as well while some faces held surprise that she would try to negate a Don’s orders. The one named Johnny stepped forward, bowing his head and lowering his gun. He approached slowly, his gaze timid.
“Miss Aurora, it’s good to see you again. I hope you’re faring well here?”
Rory looked over her shoulder, like maybe the man was speaking to a different Aurora, one who happened to be standing behind her. She turned back to Johnny with a blank stare. “Uh…what?”
He smiled softly at her but turned to me next. His gaze wandered my face for a moment while I stood rigid, waiting to see what his next move would be.
“You look like your father, Mr. Byrne,” he said, his voice soft with something akin to heartache. “Your father was a good man. He meant a great deal to us.”
My muscles tensed, readying for an attack, when he moved. But he didn’t move toward me. He lowered himself to his knees before me, both joints cracking loudly on the way down. He laid his gun at my feet as Elio shouted obscenities at him.
“You have my loyalty, my support and my respect. I vow to protect you with my life, should it come to that.”
As the other men in the room followed Johnny to their knees, Elio stomped his feet and made a beeline for the hall that led to the front door, but Finn and Elliot quickly blocked it. He turned, scanning the room for another exit, his face a strange shade of gray.
“Finn, take Elio to one of the holding cells. Make sure he’s well taken care of until the Concordia is ready for us.” Finn grabbed Elio’s arm but the man used his heavy weight to try to throw him off. Mikhail grabbed Elio’s other arm and together, they dragged Elio from the room. He screamed and made demands the whole way, until his voice disappeared when they descended the stairs to the basement.
Rory came up to my side, lifting my arm over her shoulder and cuddling in close. With so many weapons still on display, I gently urged her back behind me, despite my body’s insistence I keep her close.
“Put your weapons away, men,” Marco said. “You’re making the Don uneasy.”
The Don.
Jesus Christ, what am I doing?