CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

ROME

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I pulled into Marcel's driveway a few minutes later, shut off the engine, and reached over to grab the peace lilies from the passenger seat. The house sat quietly behind a tall wrought-iron gate, the landscaping trimmed to perfection.

To get through the gate, I’d had to wait for his security scanner to scan my face and allow me through. Apparently, I was on the list of people allowed on his property. Anyone driving by would probably think this place belonged to a rich old man living a peaceful life.

They'd be wrong.

This house was what Marcel called his fortress. But what I saw was a self-made prison. I needed to find the key to free my young cousin soon. I walked to the front door and pressed the doorbell. A few seconds later, the small speaker above the camera crackled to life.

"What’s up, Romaneo Cattaneo?"

A smile tugged at my lips. “What’s up, Marcello Cattaneo?” I greeted.

"You brought flowers,” Marcel mused.

"I did,” I told him, staring down at the bouquet my Blossom had prepared.

“Who are those for?” he asked.

I leaned closer to the camera to glare at him.

“If you don’t open this door, I’m going to break in,” I told him.

“Men who wear glasses shouldn’t be so violent,” he stated.

Before I could reply, a series of electronic beeps came from inside the house. Then something clicked.

"The door's unlocked," Marcel said through the speaker. "You have five seconds before it locks again."

Damn it.

I grabbed the handle, twisted, and stepped inside. The lock clicked almost immediately after I shut the door behind me. Damn. I'd barely made it. I strode forward, wondering where the hell my cousin was.

The front hall seemed to stretch forever. My gaze moved left and right, noting the cameras on the wall. They followed my movements, tracking me. Marcel’s foyer opened into a spacious living room with high ceilings and large windows.

I immediately noted the changes he’d made to the place since the last time I was here. Over those windows were security shutters that were closed, preventing outside light from entering the home.

They were also keeping anyone on the outside from peering into the home or snapping photos from a distance. Before I could look around more, footsteps echoed from my right. I glanced in that direction in time to see Marcel jogging down the stairs.

He'd obviously just finished working out. His long dark hair was damp with sweat and clinging to his shoulders. He was shirtless, wearing a pair of black athletic shorts, with a white towel resting across one shoulder.

For a second, I simply stared at him. Cas was right. He'd changed. Marcel had always been a handsome kid. It was in his genes. But over the last several months, he'd gotten bigger. His shoulders were broader now.

His arms and chest carried lean muscle that hadn't been there before. He wasn’t bulky. Just... fit. Stronger. No longer the scrawny kid we’d fought so hard to bring home. He was a man who looked like he could hold his own now.

But his looks weren’t what concerned me. This house and his unwillingness to leave it were what bothered me. When he made it to the last step, his gaze landed on the flowers in my hands, and a grin spread across his face.

"Did you really bring those flowers for me?"

"I did."

He chuckled. "This feels weird as hell. No one's ever given me flowers before."

"There's a first time for everything."

Still chuckling, he accepted the flowers.

“I forgot to ask for a vase at the floral shop. So, I stopped at another store and got that little vase thing for you to put the flowers in. You’ll need some water and stuff, so they can live. I think the florist put a card in there to explain how to care for them.”

“Oh yeah, I see it. I’m still shocked you got me flowers.”

“You know what? I think this is my first time buying anyone flowers.”

Marcel shook his head. “No wonder you’re still single.”

Apparently, he hadn’t talked to my brothers today.

"What made you get me... this?" Marcel asked, staring at the flowers as if they were poisonous or something.

"I stopped by a florist on the way over," I told him. "She said fresh flowers help brighten a house. They're also supposed to freshen the air."

“You trying to say my house stinks?” he asked.

“I’m trying to say, since you won’t go outside, I’m bringing the outside to you. These flowers are called peace lilies.”

Marcel glanced down at the peace lilies, staring at them differently now.

"They're actually kind of nice,” he mused.

"I thought so too."

He walked over to the center table in the living room and carefully set the vase down.

“I’ll put some water in them in a minute,” he said.

I nodded. For a moment, he simply stood there looking at them. Then he smiled again.

"Peace lilies, huh?” he muttered. “I like them."

"I'm glad."

Seeing that smile, a genuine smile from him, eased a little of my concerns. The last time I visited him, he’d looked different. And he’d clearly been in a darker headspace back then.

Now, Marcel looked less like a man haunted by his past and more like the cousin who’d grown up following me everywhere, begging me to teach him how to shoot. Marcel glanced down at himself and sighed.

“I should probably take a shower before lunch. Give me ten minutes to clean up. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time.”

He started toward the staircase. Halfway there, he suddenly stopped. His entire body stiffened. Then he spun around.

“Hey, uh. Don’t venture around the place and be nosy just yet. I need to turn off the traps set throughout the house so you don’t trigger them.”

I frowned. “Traps?”

“Yeah. Give me one minute to deactivate them.”

Without another explanation, he hurried upstairs. Traps? What the hell did he mean by traps? I stood there for a full minute, not moving because I didn’t want to set off anything. Something to the right of me clicked.

I won’t lie, it startled me, making me tense up. Something above me hummed, then went silent. I looked up, wondering what the hell Marcel had going on in this house of doom.

“All clear,” he called from upstairs.

I released the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I stood there for another minute before curiosity got the better of me. Leaving behind the flowers on the center table, I slowly walked through the house.

The first room I wandered into was his security room. Monitors covered nearly an entire wall. Every camera angle around the property was displayed on the screens. The front gate. The driveway. The backyard. The sides of the house. Every entrance. Every window.

Nothing escaped Marcel's attention. He was making sure no one got close to him without him knowing first. I couldn’t say I blamed him. After what he’d experienced, this was actually a normal response.

Even so, I hated that he had to live this way. I moved to the upstairs area. The next room I found was lined with weapons. Handguns. Shotguns. Rifles. Knives. More ammunition than me, Cas, and Raz had in our weapons rooms combined.

Leaving the room, I continued down the hallway. The next room was a gym. I smiled as I stared at a water bottle sitting on the corner table. The writing on it read: Put Down The Soda and Pick Up A Water Bottle.

So, he was one of those health nuts. I moved around the space, noting the free weights, benches, multiple workout machines, and punching bags. The space was larger than most commercial fitness centers.

No wonder he'd put on muscle. Working out wasn't a hobby anymore. It was his life. As I stepped back into the hallway, something else caught my attention. The locks on the doors. Every door had more than one.

Some had three. Some had up to five. And they weren’t simple locks. Heavy-duty deadbolts reinforced nearly every entrance I passed. All the windows had inside shutters, keeping the sunlight out.

The entire house had become a fortress. A beautiful prison Marcel had built for himself. And he lived here alone. No guards. No staff. No one. Just him, his thoughts, and his fears. He no longer trusted anyone enough to live under the same roof with them.

He felt he was safer alone. But this wasn't living. This was surviving. Whoever had provided the intel that led the Bianchis to Marcel had stolen far more than his freedom. They'd stolen his peace. They'd also stolen the simple things.

The things most people never thought twice about. Like his ability to answer his own front door by himself. His ability to work out or shower without setting booby traps because he feared someone might enter his home while he was distracted.

They’d stolen his ability to feel safe in his own home. And they’d cut him off from his family and friends, forcing him into isolation. I blinked, realizing that tears were blurring my vision. Fuck!

I wiped the tears away. This would not be how my cousin lived his life forever. I would destroy his enemies so he could finally have peace of mind. So he could finally live again. He deserved that.

He would have that.

I looked around one last time before making my way back down to the living room. Taking a seat on the couch, my gaze landed on the peace lilies on his center table. I hoped they brought him a little peace as I sought those who’d stolen his.

I waited quietly for Marcel to return, my mind filled with vengeance and the desire to destroy whoever had taken on the Ettori intel job. A few minutes later, Marcel came downstairs wearing gray jogging pants and a plain white t-shirt.

His black hair was still damp from the shower. He had it pulled back into a short ponytail. Walking into the living room, he dropped onto the couch across from me.

"Sorry about that," he apologized. “If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve worked out later.”

"No problem. I should’ve called before I came."

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. Marcel glanced over at the peace lilies on the center table.

"I still can't believe you bought me flowers, dude. If my mom finds out, she’ll start filling this place with those things."

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