Chapter Twenty-Eight Enzo
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Enzo
Tomcat: What are you doing this weekend?
Me: You, hopefully
Tomcat: Not hopefully, definitely. Clear your schedule Sat-Sun.
Me: What’s happening?
Tomcat: We’re going away for the weekend.
Me: What are we celebrating?
Tomcat: Another year in my flesh prison.
Me: Aww, is that geriatric millennial emo for birthday?
Tomcat: I’m not emo. I’m just unimpressed with humanity.
Tomcat: And I’m not a geriatric millennial, either.
Me: Okay, Pops. Sensitive much?
Me: Where are we going?
I hoped we were still going, wherever it was. I had a knack for making him want to rip his hair from his skull.
Tomcat: It’s a surprise.
Me: Shouldn’t I be the one surprising you?
Tomcat: I don’t like surprises.
Me: That is the least surprising thing I’ve ever heard.
Me: I’m still gonna try, though.
Tomcat: No jumping out of a cake.
Me: Dang it. I had a whole routine planned.
Tomcat: Sorry.
Me: What about a sultry rendition of Happy Birthday Mr. President?
Me: I can rock that crème sequin dress like nobody’s business.
Me: Hello? Anyone there?
Tomcat: Unfortunately.
Me: Did you smile today?
Tomcat: Not yet.
I send an attachment.
Tomcat: Cute. How old were you there?
Me: College. I went through a platinum hair phase. Really leaned into those Billy Idol cheekbones.
Tomcat: You must’ve been popular with the ladies.
Me: I had a steady girlfriend all through high school and college. It was easier, you know?
Tomcat: I know.
Tomcat: E?
Me: ?
Tomcat: I lied. I smiled today already. I just wanted you to send a picture.
Me: Really?
Tomcat: Really.
Me: Well, whaddaya know.
Me: Never trust a fucking fed.
The week was going so well, I allowed myself not to concentrate on Katya, the Bratva, and the fact that Luca was literally falling apart. He’d missed two important meetings and left a third one halfway through because of a text message.
Achilles and Tierney had postponed their honeymoon indefinitely, and Achilles had called for an urgent meeting without Luca to see how we could salvage the situation.
We met at Tiernan and Lila’s house in the ’burbs. Tierney opened the door, all swooshing red hair and a femme fatale smile. She wore ripped Chanel stockings and a little black dress that highlighted her runway model measurements.
“Enzo!” She threw herself at me in a hug. “I haven’t seen you in, like, weeks!”
“Oh, shush. You Instagram stalk me, like everyone else,” I murmured into her hair.
She laughed, pinching my side. “Would you follow me back already? I’m getting a complex.”
“No,” I drawled, squeezing her harder, knowing she’d resist. “My online persona refuses to acknowledge humanity. I’m just posting for the fans.”
“All right, that’s enough, Napoleone di Buonaparte. Remove your hands and megalomaniac presence from my wife before your next post is your obituary.” Achilles appeared at the doorway.
I stepped back. Tierney and I shared an exasperated eyeroll.
Before I was able to step into the house, Lila, my baby sister, flung herself at me.
Lila was the exact opposite of Tierney. Whereas the red bombshell was all bite, spice, and dripping sex appeal, Lila was soft, sweet, no edges—with blond curls, pale blue eyes, a flowery pink dress, and one heck of a baby bump.
Somehow, though, they got along like a house on fire.
Those two were the real ride or die between the couples.
“Brother!” Lila signed in ASL. “I missed you so much. You don’t visit me as often anymore.”
“I visit you every weekend!” I protested, swaggering into the living room and picking up my nephew, Nero, from his playmat. “Il bambino.”
He laughed as I tossed him in the air and caught him. I matched his gurgling sounds, which put my nephew on a high. He couldn’t stop giggling.
“Careful, Enzo.” Tiernan materialized from the hallway. “That’s my son and heir you’re hurling dangerously close to a twelve-foot ceiling.”
“If toddlers didn’t want to be thrown, they wouldn’t be the perfect throwing weight,” I retorted.
Tiernan stopped. Scowled. Looked ready to decapitate me.
“Relax.” I chuckled. “I do it all the time.”
“How is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“To feel anything, you must first be capable of emotions.”
“I’m capable of emotions,” Tiernan reassured me, leaning against the wall dispassionately. “For instance, right now, I’m madly in love with your sister and endlessly pissed off at you.”
With a sigh, I handed Nero to Tierney, who was less prone to treating babies like they were baseballs.
“Were you able to drag the woman of the hour to our conference?” I strode into the kitchen to get myself some coffee. Everyone followed me.
Lila shook her head, speaking, “I think Sofia has finally had enough of him.”
Lila’s pronunciation was different, because she was deaf and recently got cochlear implants. She still signed when she felt self-conscious, even though all of us could understand her just fine.
“Well, she lasted longer than I did.” Achilles flicked the coffee machine to life. That man loved coffee almost as much as he loved his wife. “I got fed up with his sour ass before I learned how to crawl.”
“Am I hearing right that you’re crawling, babe?” Tierney was the last to walk into the kitchen, Nero in her arms.
“Not at the moment. But for you, I’d get on my hands and knees in a room full of shattered glass.” Achilles slid the first cup of coffee he made her way, pressing an intimate kiss to her cheek.
“Thanks so much for this appetite suppressant,” I murmured. “Now, let’s figure out what to do with our new don.”
“What do you think Sofia is doing in that mansion with Jeremie?” Lila asked. She sat in her husband’s lap. He stroked her like she was a lazy cat, the movement automatic, almost like an afterthought.
Achilles elevated an eyebrow. “You want me to spell it out for you, little sis?”
“Might be for protection only,” Tiernan pointed out. “Considering her history with Luca and some of the shit that’s now coming out about everything he’s done over the years.”
We all had skeletons in the closet. But Luca had a fucking graveyard. We’d only found out about it recently.
“I hope it’s not just for protection.” Tierney sipped her coffee. “Sofia is a saint, but even saints have their limits. What do you think happened?”
Achilles shook his head. “Luca is cagey about his relationship with her. I know next to nothing about it. Enzo?”
“Same here,” I said. “Lila, you’re the closest to her, right?”
Lila nodded, just as Tiernan wrapped an arm around her waist. The psychopath couldn’t fucking stand it when another man talked to her, even if it was her brother.
“What do you make of it? Do you think there’s a chance she’ll take him back?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. She doesn’t talk about him at all other than to say they are not compatible.”
“The man is not functioning.” Achilles slammed his coffee cup on the counter. “And we’ve got a lot of shit on our plate. We need a plan.”
“Sounds like you gave it some thought.” I stroked my chin. Achilles never shied away from making bold decisions. Especially ones involving mass carnage and maximum casualties.
“We can get rid of Jeremie,” he said, in a tone suggesting he’d be happy to take care of that problem.
“And turn your Cold War with the Bratva into a full-fledged bloodbath?” Tiernan drawled. “Genius idea.”
“The carnage can’t be prevented at this point,” I said. “Might as well draw first blood.”
Please, let this whole thing blow up so I won’t have to marry Katya.
I’d made a promise to Alex that I’d follow through with the wedding, and I was going to keep it, but only if he’d fulfill his end of the bargain and separate Sofia and Jeremie. So far, it hadn’t happened. And I was becoming increasingly desperate.
“If Luca wanted Jeremie dead so badly, he’d have done it himself,” Tiernan pointed out. “Giving him help he didn’t ask for would only make matters worse.”
“You think I’m playing Cupid?” Achilles snorted derisively. “I couldn’t care less about Luca’s marriage. If anything, I’m rooting for its breakdown after what he did to me and Tierney.”
Ah, yes. Apparently, Luca had played a big part in ripping the lovebirds apart when they were teenagers. My father, of course, orchestrated the entire operation, the supreme shitbag that he was.
“I care about the Camorra, not about Luca’s happiness,” Achilles lamented.
“Well, what do we do?” Lila asked.
Unlike Achilles, I did care about Luca’s happiness—quite a lot, actually—but he was right. We needed to take care of business first. Because the price to pay was more than just money—it was all of our lives.
“If Luca doesn’t pull himself together, we dethrone him. We have the votes.” I put my coffee down.
“Do you?” Tiernan raised an eyebrow. “Achilles can rile up your lackeys. But who convinces Donna Chiara to pull the trigger? Everyone loyal to the Ferrante family would want to hear what she has to say.”
“Yes,” Achilles drawled, staring me straight in the eye from across the room. “We need someone to ask Mama to pass the crown to someone else. And that someone can’t be me, because she never could stand me.”
Aside from Lila, I was the closest to Mama out of us siblings. So I knew exactly what he was asking me.
“She’ll agree,” I said. “I’ll work my magic on her.”
“And who, pray tell, is going to take Luca’s place?” Tierney asked.
Achilles and I locked stares again. I gave him a little nod.
He deserved it.
“I’m giving him a month to change course,” Achilles announced, “then I’m taking over.”