Chapter 12
RAFAELLE
If I thought Cesare would hightail it to wherever his pregnant wife was after our little chat, I was wrong.
I catch glimpses of him schmoozing the sponsors, discussing strategy with Bibi and the twins, then giving the engineers a taster of the hell he used to give them during race weekends. Basically Cesare doing what Cesare did as a racing driver between practices.
So it’s no surprise at all when he returns to me, standing with his back to the track, arms crossed, suit impeccable despite the Mediterranean humidity.
He doesn’t look like a man running an empire. He looks like a man who’s just watched his younger brother stroll into a fire with a can of gasoline and a hard-on. And yearned for it to be him.
‘You miss it, don’t you?’
He tenses for a nanosecond, then shakes his head. ‘Nah. At the risk of sounding like a sappy dipshit, I love my life now more than ever.’ He winces, then slaps my arm. ‘No offence, frate.’
I don’t shrug and for the life of me, I can’t find a single joke to counteract the sting. Our months-apart age gap made us near enough peas in a pod growing up. We stood shoulder to shoulder in everything, from taking a pummelling from Orazio’s fists to losing our virginities in the same damn week.
‘You were spotted this afternoon,’ he says without looking at me. ‘You slipping or do you just not care?’
I light a Cohiba – ignoring the no-smoking sign and the glares of the Wellness-R-Us freaks who fill their lips with Botox and their tits with fake liquid but object to a little Cuban culture – and take a long drag, leaning on the railing like I’m not the subject of an impending interrogation. ‘Define “spotted”.’
‘Walking three steps behind the younger Mancinelli sister. Remind me again, didn’t she try to kill you, like, five minutes ago?’
I shrug. ‘Technically, she only tried the once. That shows restraint.’
He turns, eyes narrowing. ‘You’re seriously doing this?’
‘Doing what?’ I ask, blowing smoke rings skyward. ‘Forming a strategic alliance? Getting intel? Getting head?’
Cesare exhales, slow and sharp, and pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s resisting the urge to headbutt me into the next race circuit.
‘She’s dangerous.’
‘So am I, fratello.’
‘No. You’re unstable. That’s different.’
I choose not to think he’s placing us in separate boxes. After three decades of bleeding side by side, of burying bodies and secrets no one else could carry. Of being mirror and shadow to each other. Is he now drawing a line between us? Making me other? Or am I in my fucking feelings?
I snort at the thought that isn’t as funny as it should be. ‘And yet you love me.’
Cesare doesn’t respond right away. He looks out over the track, where Renzo’s car gleams under the floodlights. Somewhere nearby, I imagine Sofiya is pretending not to be watching me from the VIP suite like she doesn’t want to stab me and kiss me in equal measure.
Fuck, I’d give my right nut for that to be happening in real time.
My phone pings the distinct sound we both know. I don’t glance at it but I feel Cesare’s gaze sharpen.
‘Nightowl?’ Cesare says, his voice quieter.
I nod.
He frowns. ‘They haven’t responded to me in weeks. Not even a coded check-in.’ He sounds jealous.
I smirk. ‘Maybe they like me better now. And what the hell do you need them for? They’re hackers, not psychics. They can’t tell your future or how great you’ll be at fatherhood.’
He glances at me. ‘They’re not supposed to like anyone. They’re a phantom contact.’
I don’t answer right away. I know what he’s saying. What he’s not saying. ‘I’m not trying to cut you out.’
‘No?’ He looks at me again. There’s no heat, just that quiet Cesare stillness that always made me want to throw punches. ‘Because it feels like everything’s shifting. I used to know every move before you made it. Now? I learn about your little dance with the Mancinelli chick through a damn capo.’
I flick ash into the wind. ‘Things change.’
He nods slowly. ‘They do. Maddie’s belly gets bigger every day. She fell asleep last night with her hand on it, like she could already feel the baby dreaming. You know what that felt like?’
‘What?’
‘Peace. For the first time in years, I didn’t feel like a killer waiting to come back to life. But with you… it doesn’t feel like a good change. It feels like you’re punishing me.’
I look away. Something stabs beneath my ribs. I can’t deny it. Learning Maddelena and Giada Mancinelli were present when my mother took her last breath was a kick in the heart.
Cesare laying down the directive that I wasn’t to go after Giada, find out everything she knew? Yeah, that was a kick in the face and the fucking nuts.
I scoff. ‘You’re about to be a dad. That’s your big redemption arc. You get to raise a soft, squishy little human and teach them not to be assholes like us.’
He huffs. ‘Right.’
I glance at him sideways, smirking, injecting humour into the moment because I’m a fucking team player. ‘You gonna be in the room when Maddie pops it out? What if you faint when the afterbirth hits? You want me to hold your hand? Or just take your place and deliver the kid myself?’
‘Shut the fuck up.’
‘I’ll wear gloves. Maybe.’
Cesare glares. ‘You even think about saying any of this bullshit to my wife and I’ll put a bullet in your thigh.’
‘Aw. Just the thigh?’ I mock-pout. ‘I distinctly remember a gun to my throat when I suggested you do the world a favour and fuck her. You’re getting soft in your old age. Also, you’re welcome.’
‘Fuck off.’
‘You first, stronzo.’
We fall quiet for a moment. The roar of an engine echoes below, a mechanical scream in the dying hours of parc ferme.
When he speaks again, it’s softer. ‘She may feel like some kind of deranged kindred spirit. Or a means to a necessary end. Just… don’t get killed, Rafa. Not by her. Not for her.’
I clap him on the shoulder. ‘That’s the thing, fratello. If I go out, at least I’ll die hard and happy.’
He groans. ‘You’re a fucking caveman.’
‘And you love it.’
We stand there like we always have – side by side, chest to the world. But the silence now isn’t easy. It’s laced with something heavier. A thread we both feel but neither wants to pull tonight.
So we let it hang, the way only brothers can.
Close. Still connected.
But not quite the same.