Chapter 18 Alessio
Alessio
“Did you tell Caterina where we’re going tonight?”
I take my time checking my weapons for the raid before responding to Armando’s question, wondering why there’s a heaviness in my chest when I reply. “No. Why should I? Did you tell Gia?”
“Of course not, but Gia’s not my wife. Things could get dangerous.”
“Our lives are always dangerous, both inside and outside of our homes.” My father made that clear at dinner by throwing his knife toward Bibi.
He’s a ticking time bomb that’s overdue to go off.
Hopefully, he'll stop worrying about my bedroom habits with my wife soon. If he knew the truth, that I haven’t claimed my virgin bride at all yet, he’d probably shoot me in the head and do the honors himself.
I hated seeing that sheet on display in our dining room when I’d come down for dinner.
Father’s been behaving like some fisherman with his prized catch ever since the wedding night.
I told the maid to burn it. I’ll make sure she does, or I’ll do it myself.
Not even tormenting Nico is worth upsetting Caterina this way.
Why am I so bothered at the thought of upsetting Caterina though?
“If she knew what we were up to tonight, my little Morelli wife would probably be hoping for my early demise,” I say to Armando. I’d finally admitted the knife thing to him after crashing in his room again. He’d had the audacity to laugh.
“I guarded her for two years before your marriage.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“She's a good girl. She wouldn’t have sliced your throat. Except maybe by mistake.”
“You’re instilling a lot of optimism in me regarding my future wedded bliss, asshole.”
“Well, maybe imagine how she’s felt about this marriage for the past two years. She was a pawn for peace, handed to a brutal man she didn't know without any say in the matter at all."
"I didn't choose her." Though, if I'm honest with myself, there's no other woman I could imagine wanting the way I want Caterina.
Armando is unimpressed with my response.
"Maybe you didn't choose her, but you know you will always have more power in this marriage.
Caterina could've been given to anyone, like Gia was. You need to get over her having the upper hand on you for a handful of seconds. Stop ignoring her just because she was jealous.”
“I am over it.”
I’d tried to express that earlier today after her family left town at last. I could tell how heartbroken she was, and I’ll admit that bothered me, too.
I’m just not the best with words, so I’d chosen actions - the stuffed kitty, the hot bath with her fragrance filling the room, the pint of ice cream in the flavor Sofia said Caterina prefers all waiting for her. What else was I supposed to do?
“I didn’t murder Nico before he left town today, did I?”
“You’re a pillar of restraint,” Armando says, wryly. “She asked about your mother the other night by the way.”
My eyes narrow as my insides twist with uncomfortable memories. “What did you say?”
“Nothing other than she had died. It’s not my business to share it. You could share it with her though. If you wished to get closer to your wife-”
“I’m not sharing shit with a woman who holds a knife to my throat, whose brothers I’d like to skin! Nothing about her fate will make Caterina feel any better about being married to me. So, make sure you keep remembering that it’s not your business if she asks again.”
Armando shrugs, unfazed by my outburst. “Did anyone notice Gia’s or my absence after dinner?”
Shaking my head, I decide it’s my turn to taunt him a little. “Not that I’m aware of. Did you do anything you shouldn’t have with my sister in the basement, Armando?”
I expect an eyeroll or to be flipped off. It’s what he would’ve done when we’d first become aware of Gia’s crush on my friend. The poor girl had been pretty obvious.
Instead, Armando goes very still, his jaw clenching tightly. “I told you I want to teach her to shoot. That’s all. I wouldn’t dishonor Gia.”
“Fine. Teach her to shoot.”
“I’d like to teach her to fight, too.”
He’s very invested in Gia being able to protect herself since the attack on the wedding, but I know what it stems from. “Or maybe you could simply fly to Chicago and kill her husband for her.”
“I’d do it in a heartbeat. Do I have your permission?” He’s deadly serious and all the pre-raid sense of humor leaves the room.
“You know I can’t give you that.” Clearly disappointed by my response, Armando resumes checking his own weapons. That heavy sensation in my chest intensifies. Guilt. I don’t like it.
“Ready to go, boys?”
Lifting my head, I find Armando’s father, Giovanni standing in the room with us.
He’s several years older than my father and, at first glance, one might imagine him to be too gentle to be part of the mafia.
Maybe that’s why he’s been passed over for promotion, remaining a soldier despite years of loyal service and intelligent handling of our street racing and small fry betting.
It would be unwise to underestimate him though, and he’s one of the few men on this earth who can still get away with calling me boy.
With a nod, Armando and I follow Giovanni outside where a black van waits, crowded with the soldiers I’ll lead on this raid.
Before opening the door, Giovanni takes a moment to grasp Armando’s hand, murmuring in Italian for him to be careful and stay vigilant.
He loves his son dearly and he’s not afraid to let others know it.
Secretly, I’ve envied Armando for having Giovanni for a father since we were little boys.
When Armando struggled or acted out, Giovanni encouraged or redirected him.
When I did, Father threatened to cut off a finger or gouge out an eye.
“Don’t worry, Giovanni,” I say, clapping the old man on the shoulder. “The Bratva won’t know what hit them until it’s too late.”
“I’m sure of it, Alessio, but you stay safe, too. You’ve got a beautiful, sweet girl waiting for you to return home, and that isn’t something to take for granted.”
Normally, an upcoming night of slaughter would have me in high spirits, but Giovanni’s words sour the taste of it somehow.
Just as he loves his son, Giovanni loved his wife before she passed, and she loved him.
I will never have that though because my blood is tainted.
Love and the last name De Luca don't mix.
"Let's just get this over with so my father will shut up about our revenge," I grumble. He wants instant payback for the wedding attack but plays the long game when it comes to revenge for his own son’s murder. He’s become impossible for me to figure out at this point. And that’s becoming worrisome.
In truth, I also want tonight to be over so I can return to her as Giovanni said. The question is, does she want me to return? I don’t know, but the thought of never once claiming her or seeing that certain smile from her again makes me determined not to die.
Sliding the van door open, I eye my men, all of them hand-picked for their skill and loyalty to me.
They’ll be my new guard once our current Capo is gone and I take Vegas as my own.
“Who’s ready to kill some Russian fuckers?
” I ask, jumping in with a sinister smile.
They all grin back at me, more than ready to get their hands bloody tonight.