Chapter Thirty–Seven
Stefano
LORENZO FINDS ME IN his office, watching the thinning casino floor below as the last-call regulars shuffle out. He brings with him the scent of whiskey and the soft clink of ice in glass as he steps up beside me.
“Got a voice message from Vernon,” he says. “Ranting that you canceled on that business dinner tonight.”
“I did.”
He scoffs. “You must have a damn good reason, because you know how that thin-skinned egotist loves taking shit personally.”
I scan the floor as the staff begin closing down. Searching for…I don’t even know what. “What’s the one thing Luca craved most and would’ve done anything to get?”
“Besides easy pussy?”
“Yeah. Besides that.”
It takes him a second. “Ah, his papa’s forgiveness.”
“Luca was solid. Loyal. Blood,” I say. “There’s nothing that could’ve convinced him to turn on us…except that. Vale’s approval.”
Lorenzo slides me a side-glance, ice clinking as he takes a sip of liquor. “What are you getting at?”
“Check the secure cloud. I dropped you some photos.”
As he pulls out his phone, I continue. “We know by now that nothing about how Raya thinks is obvious. She likes to challenge the mind, give as little as possible, stay just beneath the surface. So I tried to think like her, where or how she would leave a clue, what we would overlook that she wouldn’t.
Until I remembered something she told me the last time we spoke.
‘Sometimes tattoos are a map to the soul.’” I rub my jaw.
“And then I just knew exactly where to look. On Luca’s body.
There’s a fake tattoo on his inner wrist.”
“‘Forgive me, Father, for I have failed,’” Lorenzo reads aloud from the zoomed in photo of Luca’s wrist. The words are accompanied by a rosary.
“What does that tell you?”
“I don’t—” Lorenzo shakes his head, perplexed. “She wants is to believe Vale is behind this?”
“‘Luca knows what he needs to do to fix our relationship.’ That’s what he said when I brought up their estrangement over our last chess game,” I tell him. “But I was too damn distracted to pick up on it then.”
Unconvinced, Lorenzo rubs his jaw. “Look, I hate the fuck out of Vale. Don’t think there’s a righteous bone in that fraud’s body.
But I can’t see him pulling this off. Maybe Raya’s fucking with us, not helping.
” He shakes his head again, more emphatically this time.
“I mean, Vale lives off your monthly donations to the church. How the hell would he afford a coup? Mercenaries, cartel sway, mafia reach, the goddamn mayor? It’s not adding up for me. ”
“How? Easy. Someone’s funding him,” I return.
“Don’t forget, I’ve blocked a slew of business plays in this city that many aren’t happy about.
Someone’s backing Vale in exchange for a promise of something if Luca took over.
We just need to figure out who that someone is.
And I know exactly who to put pressure on. ”
Lorenzo lifts a brow. “The mayor? Your power pussy?”
“It’s time I paid her a visit.” I straighten my cuffs, then turn and start for the door. “In the meantime, assign some Soldatis to sit on Vale. Quietly.”
“Will do.”
I’m halfway out the door when a strange feeling knocks into me, halting me. A forceful blow, like being slammed in the chest by a battering ram. A lightheaded sway passes over me. Followed by a sudden, overwhelming sense that something’s wrong.
I’m out of time…
Mamma dreamed of her own death, so I’ve always figured it would be the same for me. But I won’t. This is it. This crushing weight pressing down on my chest like a goddamn boulder is the only warning I’ll get.
I’m too late. Death is here. For me.
With quiet acceptance, I turn and walk back to my twin. He’s caught off guard when I pull him into a hug, his whiskey splashing across my sleeve.
“If I’m taken out,” I say at his ear, “you know what to do, alright? No revenge. Just grab your girl and go. Live the life we planned.”
He pulls back, frowning hard. “What the fuck is this? Did you have one of your dreams?”
“No. Nothing from my dreams. But…something’s coming for me. And it’s close.”
“What the fuck does that mean,” he grits out, gripping my arms. “Don’t say shit like that, man.”
“Just promise me, Lo. When it happens, you fuck off to the island, yeah? Leave this shit behind.”
“No. Fuck no. I can’t promise you that.” He backs up, shaking his head. “You’re literally my other half, Stef! No other motherfucker on earth will ever have my back like you do. How do you expect me to just—”
“Lo—”
BANG!
“What the—”
BANG! BANG!
We spin to the casino floor just in time to see staff scattering and scrambling for cover as a small army in black tactical gear and ski masks storms in, armed to the fucking teeth.
“How many Soldatis are on duty here tonight?” I ask.
“For whatever the fuck this is…not nearly enough.”
The assailants fan out, moving with coordination, establishing perimeters, securing angles, forming a path. A protected corridor for…
Ah, there he is. Unmasked. Brazen. Furious. The man who’s always beaten me on the chessboard. Without fail. Always one move ahead. And this time’s no different. Because he’s found my newest weakness…
And he’s holding a gun to her head.
Darkness creeps at the edges of my vision. Time warps, the world distorting. It feels like I’m being pulled backward into a black hole.
“Well shit,” Lorenzo breathes. “It really is him.”
His voice snaps me out of it. I spin and bolt for the door. Hearing him right behind me, I jerk around and shove him back with both hands. “Stay up here.”
“Like fuck I am. He has Raya—”
“We can’t both die tonight, Lo!” I bite out, impatient. “I felt this coming. Trust me. FUCKING STAY HERE.”
His jaw locks, fists clench, and after a long beat, he gives a sharp jerk of his chin and steps back.
I race out to the elevator and slam the call button. The doors slide open instantly and I dive in, jabbing at the floor button.
Even at high velocity, the ride down feels eternal.
When the doors finally open, I sprint out, then stop short at the double doors leading to the casino floor. Take a minute to find my composure.
One breath...then another…and another…
Mute the rage. Override the emotion. Clear your fucking head. You have no weakness. She’s not your weakness. She’s nothing. She means nothing.
When a delusory calm settles over me, I push through the doors and walk out. With leisurely steps, I slip my hands in my pockets, every muscle under strict command.
I don’t look at the hostage. Can’t. Won’t.
Cool and collected, I slide on a smile, “Well, well. This is a rather interesting twist.”
“Ah, here he is,” Vale bellows with a bitter laugh. “The ‘king.’”
Vale might wear a collar, but humble he’s never been. He usually carries an air of smug composure. Confidence in his shoulders. Shrewdness in his eyes. Measured with his words. Quiet with his thoughts.
But right now, he’s none of those things. He’s frayed.
There’s a wild, unhinged edge to him. A twitchy tension in his jaw, his posture, the jerky snaps of his body.
Shoulders uneven, neck veined and straining, like his body’s barely holding it together.
He looks like a man who went all-in on what he thought was a winning hand, but instead lost it all.
And there’s no reasoning with a man who has nothing left to lose.
“Come on, Vale,” I drawl. “Time and place.”
Two of his men block me before I can advance further.
I raise a brow. “You know this is bad optics for the city you’re trying to steal, right?”“
“Fuck the city!” he shouts.
“Ooh.” I tut at him. “That’s not very priestly of you, Uncle.”
“YOU KILLED MY SON!” Veins bulge in his neck, his face reddening with rage. “You took my boy from me!”
I let the silence stretch before I respond, slow and steady,
“After everything that came to light, I wish it was me who killed him.” I take a step forward.
His men match it. “When you turned your back on him, I took in that little pissant. Mentored him. Fed him. Treated him like a brother. And how did he repay me? By being a disloyal filth.” I keep my voice level, but cold, cutting.
“Trust me, I’m pissed as fuck that someone else beat me to ending that spineless piece of shit. ”
“LIAR!” he roars, his entire body shaking.
“Why would I lie about dropping someone who turned on his own and got the very men he sat and drank with killed?” I scoff. “Why would I lie when it’s embarrassing as fuck for me that he pulled it off right under my nose.”
“Because. I. Have. Her.”
He yanks Raya’s head back by a fistful of her hair. And the short, stifled whimper that leaves her feels like a blade shoved straight through my ribcage. It takes everything in me to remain still.
I force a detached, perfunctory glance at her. “What gave you the impression that I give a shit about this Pink House nobody runaway?”
Vale lifts a challenging brow. “No?” He kicks her leg out from under her and drives her to her knees, gun pressed to the back of her head. “So you won’t mind if I splatter her brains all over your casino floor?”
And just like that, any illusion of control on my emotions shatters.
Because I do care. I’m not detached. I’m not indifferent.
This woman owns a piece of my soul. She’s been my weakness since the first fucking second I laid eyes on her.
My heart feels like it’s being crushed by a goddamn boa constrictor.
I scan the room. Every angle, every distance, every armed body. The math is bad. The odds worse. But I’m already calculating how many bullets I can sustain before I reach her.
Something must show on my face, because Vale throws his head back and bellows out a laugh. Unhinged. Triumphant.