Chapter 28
VAL
My heartbeat stopped as Saul’s head exploded, time moving in slow motion as his body fell, and fell, and fell until finally thudding against the wooden floorboards behind Stefano.
Marco appeared then, standing less than thirty feet away, his gun raised, a small plume of smoke rising and dissipating, his hands still wrapped around the grip.
For a long moment, no one said anything. All gunfire and shouting in the front of the house stopped, the complete silence broken only by the ringing in my ears.
Nausea overwhelmed me. Bile filled my mouth.
Stefano turned his head to see who had taken out Saul while keeping his pistol aimed in my direction. He’d never lowered his arms once, refusing to miss any clear shot at Aris he might get.
Stefano jerked his chin forward, directing Marco to move, then he quickly locked on to my gaze again.
“Marco, lower your weapon and walk over to me slowly.”
My legs grew weak. The room spun around me.
Aris screamed, and the situation erupted into chaos.
“What the fuck did you do!”
He lurched forward, crashing against my backside, his hand dropping from my hair. His full attention shifted to Marco, so I took the only chance I might get.
‘ Drop in three, ’ Stefano mouthed, and I nodded.
One… two…
I jammed an elbow into Aris’s stomach and dropped to the floor at his feet, ducking my face between my legs, protecting my head with both arms.
Marco might’ve planned to kill Aris next—I didn’t know—but given the situation and Stefano’s position, my older brother wouldn’t have the chance. And I was glad for it. If not me, it should’ve been my son’s father who made sure Aris didn’t live through the night.
Stefano took the shot.
My ears rang louder.
Hot liquid rained down over me.
My twin’s blood.
His body crumpled onto the floor next to me.
I lifted my face. Aris’s dead eyes stared at me, accusing me, making sure I would never forget my part in his death.
The world went quiet again, kind of like someone hit a mute button. People spoke all around me, but I couldn’t hear their voices. Stefano. Bruce. Marco. Santo.
I couldn’t look away from my dead twin, the other half of me, the person who grew inside the same womb as me. Even in death, he wanted to control me, manipulate me.
I shook my head. No, I won’t let you.
A bond had never existed between us, regardless of what others might have said. We only ever shared two things. A birth date and a last name.
Not anymore. I planned to change my name immediately, and my birthday now belonged to me alone. We would share nothing. He was nothing. And I wouldn’t let his eyes haunt me.
As I looked around me, everything seemed surreal.
What had we done? Was it really over? Aris finally gone?
Still, he stared at me, his eyes open but unmoving, like a sick Halloween prop. Blood pooled on the floor around his head, coloring the white rug beneath us. None of it seemed real.
How could it be?
My hands shook and my lips trembled as reality filtered back into my brain. So much blood. And the bodies.
Aris and our father. Dead.
Overcome with relief and sadness and dread and other emotions I couldn’t even name, I began sobbing.
Stefano dipped down and wrapped his warm arms around me, my security blanket, then and always, and as he lifted me, he pressed a soft kiss on my temple.
“I’ve got you now, Angel,” he whispered. “You’re safe. He can’t ever hurt you again or come for our son. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
He looked across the room at Santo.
“I’m sure you have a family doctor. Get him here now.”
“H-her,” I said.
I didn’t know why I cried so much, so uncontrollably, but I just couldn’t stop. It felt as if I had lanced a boil to get all the infection out of my soul.
Santo nodded and tossed over a wet washcloth.
Stefano pressed his lips to my forehead.
“I’m so sorry, Val. Sorry you had to see this. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him from hurting you sooner.”
He carried me to the couch and held me, washing the blood off my mouth, dabbing at my lips ever so gently, while Bruce and my brothers moved Aris and Saul’s bodies to the cellar.
I pressed my face against Stefano’s chest, listening to his strong heart beating, and watched them go, not looking away until they were gone. Part of me still feared Aris would get up, let out his maniacal laugh, and attack me again.
“He’s gone now. He’s never coming back,” Stefano whispered, addressing my fear like he’d read my mind. “They’ll throw his body into the incinerator tonight.”
“Good idea,” I whispered.
Adrenaline coated my nerves. God, when it wore off, the pain in my body and my face would roar back with a vengeance.
We stayed on the couch, just holding on to each other.
After brushing my fingertips over his cheek and scraping my nails through his beard stubble, I dropped my hand onto the cushion. My nonna had upholstered the couch herself. Dark green velvet. It was where she’d read bedtime stories to me.
“The doctor’s here,” Stefano said. “Let her tend to you. Then, if she says you can travel, we’ll go home.”
He shifted me, stood, bent to kiss my blood-stained lips.
“I’ll just be in the kitchen with your brothers.”
I grabbed his hand as he went to walk away. “Enzo?”
Stefano smiled, and then, without letting go of my hand, he pulled out his phone and got his underboss on speaker.
“The boy’s sound asleep in his bed,” Tony said. “I have the estate locked down like a fortress. Still, I posted a guard outside his room. Everything’s quiet here, boss.”
I nodded, so relieved, tears welling in my eyes again.
Stefano let my hand fall away from his as he headed to the kitchen to meet with Marco and Santo.
“I love you, Ace,” I blurted.
He glanced over his shoulder. “I know, my angel.”
“When did you last eat, Valentina?” the doctor asked.
I couldn’t think. “Um, I don’t know. I can’t remember.”
“Santo said it’s probably been days. Is that right?”
Yes, of course she knew Santo. She’d been the one who treated the injuries that left scars all over him.
I stared at my feet and shrugged.
She understood this life. I didn’t have to explain it to her.
Dr. De Rosa patted my knee. “It’s okay not to remember everything right now. You’re in shock, and it’s masking your physical and emotional discomfort. I’m going to start an IV to hydrate you and get nutrients into your bloodstream. You’ll have some euphoric effects… I’m going to include morphine.”
She pulled on gloves and went right to work on my arm.
“Next, we’ll clean up the wounds, and I suspect we’ll need to address multiple broken ribs. Your brother’s men are on their way in with my portable X-ray machine. But please, all that said, I want most for you to allow yourself the time you need to process what you’ve been through, okay?”
“I’ll try,” I croaked.
I murdered my twin. Stefano might have been the one to shoot him, but he’d done it for me. And it hadn’t been a crime of passion. We planned to do it. A premeditated murder.
Neither of us would be punished for it, though. No one would report Aris’s death, and his body would no longer exist.
Marco would circulate rumors.
Saul and Aris had traveled to the old country to visit relatives and conduct some business. Maybe the Sicilians or the Calabrians murdered them. Maybe Saul simply abdicated to Marco because he chose to retire in Italy. And everyone knew Aris would never leave his father’s side.
Marco would set up a paper trail corroborating his story.
But leaders in a few of the right families would know the truth. Saul Moscatelli’s heir had murdered him.
Marco had taken the family in name and by force, making his claim to the empire irrefutable.
The other person who could’ve but wouldn’t make a claim on our family legacy was Santo since Santo had aided Marco.
As the doctor moved me this way and that, snapping images and giving me instructions, so many thoughts and questions blasted through my mind.
What did all this really mean?
What happened next for my brothers?
Would Marco disown me?
Would he honor the Moscatelli deal with the Russians?
Did any of it even fucking matter?
No. It totally didn’t matter.
Stefano would see that I went home with him to our son, and without a doubt, he would kill Marco to do it if necessary.
I wanted my son to know his uncles, the men I’d loved my entire life, the only family I had left. Wait—I was a Vignali now. Stefano had said so himself. And I wanted my husband and my brother to unite our families amicably through our marriage.
As the morphine hit my system, nausea struck me, and I covered my mouth with both hands.
My head spun faster. My pulse pounded harder.
Dr. De Rosa handed me a vomit tray, then reached into her medical bag for a syringe and vial. She injected the liquid directly into my vein.
“It’s to be expected. This will help ease the nausea.”
Santo came into the room, his expression empty, a glass of water in one hand, a shot of whiskey in the other.
“Here, sister. I wasn’t sure which one you needed most.”
The doctor squinted and pushed her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose.
“No alcohol, please. Your sister can sip on the water.” She turned back to me.
“Three fractures, no organ damage. Use ice. Don’t hold your breath, although breathing will hurt for a while, kiddo.
Follow up with your regular doctor right away.
We’ll want you to start breathing exercises immediately. ”
I nodded and accepted the water from Santo. My stomach rebelled at the thought of drinking it. I sipped anyway, mostly just wetting my dry mouth and lips, while Santo sat on the couch next to me and shot the whiskey himself.
“What happens next, Santo?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’m assuming Marco’s taking over?”
My little brother nodded. “Yeah. He’s with Stefano. They’re talking to the men and seeing to the injuries.”
“Will Marco let the Russians take me?”
Santo shifted uncomfortably and scratched the back of his inked neck before making eye contact with me.