Chapter Twenty-One #2
The warehouse is chilled, the scent of the sea outside permeating the dimly lit room.
Carlo puts Salvatore in the chair and cuts off the zip-ties.
He’s not going anywhere. There’s nowhere to run.
The older man sits with his hands on his thighs, his back straight, staring at me with an obstinate expression.
I pull a chair over and sit across from him. “Talk. What the hell is this all about, Salvatore? Why the fuck would you come after my omega?”
Salvatore is quiet for a moment. Then he says, “I think you know why.”
“I have no idea what you were hoping to accomplish. If this was a grab for power it’s the lamest grab I’ve ever seen. You thought you could beat up or murder my omega in your house and get away with that?”
He scowls. “I never intended to do anything at my house.”
Carlo frowns. “Then why were you holding Elio there?”
Salvatore grimaces. “Elio showed up uninvited. You think I’m so stupid I’d bring him there on purpose?”
“All I know is he was there and it’s obvious your man worked him over.”
Salvatore laughs harshly. “Trust me, the little asshole gave as good as he got.”
“Good,” Carlo growls. “How dare you put your hands on Marcello Foschini’s omega. You must’ve lost your mind, old man.”
Glancing at Carlo, Salvatore sneers. “Of course I dare. Foschinis bleed and die just like any other mortal.”
I clench my jaw, holding my anger back. “Is that what you want, Salvatore? For all Foschinis to bleed and die?”
His face twitches. “I want justice, that’s what I want. Justice for my son.”
“For your son?” Carlo repeats.
Salvatore snarls, “That’s right. Revenge is my right and my duty.”
“And you think hurting Elio and my unborn child will give you that?” I give a confused laugh. “I’m not sure how you came to that conclusion.”
“It’s because of your father that my son died,” Salvatore hisses, his eyes glittering with resentment.
“My father isn’t responsible for Cristiano’s death.”
“Liar. Domenico used money to seduce my boy into taking the heat for Adriano, and it got him killed.”
Shaking his head, Carlo mutters, “You clueless old fool.”
“Fuck you,” Salvatore spits out at Carlo. “You serve a devil and are too stupid to even know that.”
I cross my arms. “You think I’m a devil? You think my father was a devil?”
“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you haven’t sent hundreds of men to their deaths. Tell me you didn’t send my son to his death. All so Adriano could stay out of prison.” He spits at my feet. “I’ll never forgive your family for taking my son from me.”
Carlo advances on him, face red. “They didn’t take Cristiano from you, you asshole.”
“Wrong,” Salvatore growls. “Domenico decided my boy wasn’t as important as his, and so he lured him to his death with promises of money.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Carlo says angrily.
I stand and put my hand on Carlo’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Carlo. Calm down.”
Carlo glares at Salvatore. “He needs to hear the truth, Marcello. He’s living in a dream world.”
Salvatore shakes his head. “You think I’m living in a dream world? That would be you, not me.”
I meet Salvatore’s surly gaze. “It’s clear you wanted to hurt Elio and the child.” I move closer to him. “Why were they both unharmed?”
Salvatore huffs. “Something like that takes planning. Elio just showed up at my house before things were in place. You think I’m so foolish I murder people at my home? I’m not an idiot. Jesus, give me some credit. I knew perfectly well you’d trace the Uber to my house eventually.”
Carlo scowls. “Then why’d you keep Elio at your house?”
Salvatore grumbles, “I thought Marcello was out of town. I thought I had more time.”
“But you did plan on killing Elio,” I say roughly.
Shrugging, Salvatore says, “Of course. I wanted to hurt you and nothing would hurt you more. But I wasn’t ready to make a move yet. Damn kid forced my hand,” he mutters, annoyance shimmering in his eyes.
“I’ll bet you’re sorry you missed your chance,” Carlo mumbles, giving Salvatore a disgusted glance.
Salvatore lets out a weary sigh. “I’m sure you won’t believe me, but I’d have taken no pleasure in killing Elio. But it had to happen if I wanted justice for my boy.”
“No one forced Cristiano to do what he did,” I say.
He lifts his eyes to mine. “No? You don’t think when your father, the head of the Foschini syndicate, asked my son to do him that favor, perhaps he felt pressured in any way?”
“Salvatore,” I press. “My father didn’t make Cristiano do it.”
He looks at me like I’m crazy. “How could he say no to Don Foschini?”
“You’re not listening,” Carlo grates out. “Your son wasn’t forced into anything.”
Salvatore looks disgusted. “Why should it surprise me you have no empathy for the position my son was in? Do you know when your father found out Cristiano had died, he came to see me, Marcello?”
“I’m sure he did,” I say. “You were his friend and you’d just lost your son. He wanted to comfort you.”
“Comfort me?” Salvatore’s laugh is mocking.
“No. He came to me to put on a show for the other syndicates. He had his men carry in this enormous arrangement of white orchids, lilies, and chrysanthemums. Those flowers took up the whole foyer in my home. The sweet scent was overpowering. To this day I can’t smell any of those flowers without wanting to puke.
They just remind me of Cristiano’s death now. ”
I don’t speak because I have no idea what to say.
His voice is bitter as he continues. “I remember Domenico hugged me and said how sorry he was for my loss.”
“And I’m sure he meant that.”
He laughs bitterly. “Of course you would think that. But he didn’t just express empathy. No, he also whispered to me that Cristiano had known the risks. That he’d willingly taken the deal.”
“That’s all true,” Carlo growls.
Salvatore ignores Carlo. “Your father told me I should be proud of how brave my son was. He assured me his sacrifice wouldn’t be forgotten. Then he left me in my empty house and he went on living and my only son was in the ground.”
A lump forms in my throat as I listen. Even if I’m angry with Salvatore, there’s no denying his raw agony. “I can’t imagine the pain you went through. I even understand why you want to believe it’s my family’s fault that Cristiano died.”
Carlo’s laugh is harsh. “Yeah, only it isn’t the Foschini’s fault Cristiano died. This old fool needs to know that.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of kissing Marcello’s ass, Carlo?” Salvatore jeers. “You think he’d be any more loyal to you than he was to my family? You’re expendable, just like everyone else. We’re all just pawns for the Foschini syndicate.”
I shake my head, frustration rising. “You think you have it all figured out and yet you’re completely off the mark.”
“How so?” Salvatore snaps.
I move closer to him. “My father didn’t strong arm Cristiano into taking Adriano’s place in prison.”
“Bullshit.”
“You’re wrong, but I guess you want to believe what you want to believe,” I grate out.
Salvatore curls his lip. “I believe it because it’s how it went down.”
“You’re wrong,” Carlo snarls. “A hundred percent wrong.”
“Yeah?” Salvatore’s eyes bug. “Then why did my son die in prison? Why was he in that hellhole instead of Adriano Foschini? Adriano was the one in trouble with the law, not my son. Domenico sacrificed my son instead of his own. Foschinis don’t care who they hurt or destroy so long as it’s not one of them. ”
Carlo advances on Salvatore and grabs him by the front of his shirt. “You’re wrong on all counts. Cristiano wasn’t forced into anything. He volunteered to take Adriano’s place in prison, you fucking moron.”
“Carlo, be quiet,” I snap, but it’s too late.
Salvatore’s stiffens and he shoves Carlo away. “You’re lying,” he shouts, face flushed and eyes wide. “Domenico asked him to take Adriano’s place and he had no choice but to obey. He couldn’t say no.”
Carlo shakes his head. “No, I’m not lying. Cristiano approached Domenico first.”
“He never would have done anything that reckless,” Salvatore rasps, rising to his feet.