Chapter 35
ADRIANO
Mirabella's tears break my heart as I tuck her into bed for the third time for her nap. Her fairy nightlight casts dancing fairies along the ceiling, but they do nothing to comfort her.
“I want my mommy.”
I sit on the edge of her bed, smoothing back her hair. "I don't know." I’ve now moved on from “soon” to “I don’t know”, but it’s still a lie. The truth is, Eva is dead. There’s no way Ivan didn’t retaliate once we sent that head back. But I can’t give my daughter a truth that brutal.
Her tiny fingers clutch the edge of her blanket. "The bad men have her?"
I nod, throat tight. "Yes."
"But you're the strongest," she says with such conviction it guts me. "You can get her."
This absolute trust would melt my heart at any other time.
Now it makes me feel like shit because I’m lying to my own flesh and blood.
Especially since she’s latched onto me as her only source of safety in a world suddenly turned upside down.
God, I don’t want to fail her and yet I am.
"Sleep now," I whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
When her breathing finally evens out, I retreat to the hallway, leaning against the wall.
Exhaustion burns my eyes.
All these days of being her father, protector, and trying to fill the void her mother left have pushed me to the limit.
I'm a killer, an enforcer.
I know how to break men, not how to mend a child's broken heart.
Even as I curse Eva for what she's done, I find myself wishing she were here to tell me what to do to help her.
I go to my room and grab the bottle of scotch I’ve taken to hiding in my drawer.
I pour a glass and stand by my window, overlooking the back garden.
I can see the tree I, Eva, and Mirabella picnicked under. It was a happy moment.
Now Eva is out there somewhere.
Probably dead.
Because I did nothing to save her.
I down the liquor in one burning swallow and pour another, trying to drown the image of her body, broken and discarded, that haunts me every second of the day.
"Daddy?"
I turn to find Mirabella standing in the doorway, clutching her stuffed unicorn.
"What's wrong, Princess?" I set the glass down and cross to her.
"I dreamed about Mommy again."
I hear the words as an accusation. Like she knows her mommy is gone because I allowed it.
She has Eva's eyes, Eva's mouth when she frowns. A constant reminder of what I've condemned.
I lift her into my arms, and she tucks her head under my chin.
"She was crying.” Mirabella sniffles.
"It's just a dream."
But what if it isn't?
What if Eva is alive, crying out for help that will never come?
I carry Mirabella back to her bed and sit beside her, rubbing her back until she drifts off again.
The doubt that's been festering inside me grows stronger.
What if I got it all wrong?
Yes, I heard her with Ivan.
Heard him telling her he wanted her to betray us.
But I didn't stick around to hear everything.
My mind goes back to that last night we were together.
She’d talked about how her father pulled her into this life.
That once he was a part of the Mafia, she never had a choice.
What if Ivan is using her the same way?
The truth is that women have very little agency in our world.
Valentina was indulged by us, but for a time, Alessandro was committed to making her marry a monster.
It was Cristian who saved her from that fate.
The possibility that I've abandoned Eva to torture and death when she might have been just another victim in this bloody game makes me sick.
Alessandro would say I'm making excuses for a traitor because I still love her.
Maybe he's right.
Or maybe the real betrayal was mine, turning my back on the mother of my child without giving her a chance to explain.
I return to my scotch, but it does nothing to dull the burn of guilt.
What have I done?
“Sir? Don Dante requests you in his office. He’s having a meeting with Don Vitale.”
“I’ll be right there. Can you have Sophia come up in case Mirabella gets up again?”
“Yes, sir.”
I go to my bathroom and splash water on my face. I use the trip to Alessandro’s office to shake the fog of guilt and grief so I can focus on the job.
Don Marco Vitale rises from his chair when I enter, extending his hand with a wide smile. "Adriano! It's been too long."
"Don Vitale." I shake his hand, wondering why he’s being so jovial when not that long ago, he was trying to crowd into our territory.
“You remember my son, Enrico,” he says.
I shake Enrico’s hand.
Alessandro gestures for us to sit. "Don Vitale has brought us an interesting proposal."
The old Don leans forward, hands clasped. "The Russians have become quite bold lately, no? I thought Maksim was bad, but this Ivan… " He makes a gesture that in Italy would be considered obscene.
“What’s the proposal?” I ask, not having any interest in ice-breaking bonding conversation.
“Straight to the point, I like that about the Dantes.” His gaze slides to me. "The Bratva has been a thorn in our sides for too long. They’re like weeds, slowly encroaching on what’s ours like we won’t notice.”
The same could be said about the Vitales, but I keep my mouth shut. If we’re having this conversation, it means Alessandro is considering whatever Marco is proposing.
I glance at Alessandro, who nods slightly, encouraging me to speak. "What do you get from this alliance, Don Vitale? The Russians haven't bothered your territory."
"Not yet. But Ivan is ambitious. Today, your family, tomorrow, mine."
Enrico’s gaze takes in my brother’s office, his eyes shining with what looks like anticipation.
“What does this alliance look like?” Alessandro asks.
“We share resources.” Vitale presses his hand on his chest like he’s making a vow. "My men are ready whenever you are."
Ready for what, exactly? He hasn't proposed any specific plan.
“You have a shipment coming Friday, right?” Marco says.
The hairs on my neck stand up. I glance at Alessandro, whose gaze has narrowed on Marco. “How would you know that?”
Marco laughs. “You know dock workers. All have big mouths, isn’t that right, Enrico?”
“That’s right.”
“We’ve got an issue with some of our construction sites not far from your territory. I help you guard that shipment from the Bratva, you help me keep them out of my construction projects. Win-win.”
Alessandro leans forward. “Do you have specific intel on the Bratva that suggests they’re targeting us?”
“They’re Bratva, aren’t they?” Enrico says in a tone that suggests Alessandro is a moron.
Alessandro ignores him. It’s not the wisest move. Someday, Enrico will be Don, and he’ll likely want Alessandro to pay for disrespecting him. Still, Enrico is an entitled weasel.
“No, no… nothing specific, but Enrico is right. It’s no secret that the Bratva have a hard-on for you. What better way to get at you than this shipment coming Friday?”
“I’ll consider it,” Alessandro says. “Give me a day.”
“Absolutely.” Marco rises from his chair. “But not too long. I’ll need time to get my men organized for Friday.”
“I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
They shake, and Marco and Enrico leave Alessandro’s office.
Something about this doesn’t feel right.
The Vitales and Dantes never had any issues until my father died and Marco decided to test Alessandro’s vigor as a Don.
It didn’t go well for him. Since then, relations have been cool. But you wouldn’t know it from the way Marco Vitale acted today.
"That was interesting," I say, leaning against Alessandro's desk.
My brother loosens his tie, pouring himself a drink. "Vitale's never been this friendly before."
"You noticed that too?" I take the glass he offers. "How'd he know about Friday’s shipment? No fucking way dockworkers are gossiping."
Alessandro's eyes narrow. "Could be coincidence."
"Bullshit. There is no coincidence in our world."
"Fair point." Alessandro swirls his drink, but his expression tells me he’s thinking about taking this deal.
“Alessandro, we don’t need them. Especially not them. They’ll use this against us. I swear to fuck Enrico was measuring your office, like he’s planning to be in charge once his father gets rid of the Dantes.”
“Maybe, but this alliance could be what we need now. The Bratva's been like termites, eating away at us. If Vitale wants to throw his resources behind us—"
"What if that's not what he wants? What if he's fishing, probing for weaknesses?"
Alessandro considers this. "You think he's planning to move against us?"
I shrug. "I think nobody offers help without wanting something in return, and I’m sorry, that whole ‘I need help protecting construction projects’ is weak."
Alessandro moves to the window, staring out at the compound grounds. "We need allies," he says finally. "Ivan's recruiting families that have been neutral for generations. If the Vitales decide they’d rather throw in with the Bratva—"
"We're fucked," I finish for him.
He nods. "So we play along."
"And if he betrays us?"
Alessandro turns, and for a moment, I see our father in his eyes. Cold, calculating, merciless. "Then we do what Dantes have always done to traitors."
I nod, but something still doesn't sit right. "I'll have Carlo shadow Vitale. See who else he might be meeting with."
"Good." Alessandro returns to his desk. "And have Nico check our security at the docks again. If the Bratva is planning something for Friday, I want to be ready."
I leave his office, the meeting still replaying in my mind. I don’t trust the Vitales as far as I could throw them, but if Alessandro is right and we need allies to continue to ward off the Bratva, it could restore what was lost after my father died.
When I pass Mirabella's room, I peek in to find her napping. For a moment, all the suspicion and violence of my world falls away, replaced by something purer. This is my purpose now. The business. The killing. It's all to keep this precious treasure I’ve been given safe.
I failed Eva. Had I realized what was happening four years ago, I might have been able to save her, protect her, build a life with her.
But that’s the thing about life.
Hindsight is twenty-twenty. I can’t go back. I can only go forward.
For me, that’s giving Mirabella a life where she’s safe and loved, protecting her from having to make the impossible choices Eva had to make.