Chapter 29 Alessio
Alessio
A sleepless night leaves me dangerously edgy and having company makes this commercial flight an even bigger pain in the ass.
Rocco, the pathetic pussy, has acted like a whipped dog since I kicked his ass and sent him back to Reno after my wedding, so it’s interesting to see him behaving more like his old cocky self around me.
More than that even, he seems amused by something.
“I think a video would’ve been better than just the audio recording. I would’ve liked to have seen the whore’s tits bounce while he fucked her ass,” he says to his father while giving me a smarmy grin. “I’ll bet even the brother would get hard watching that and want to join in the-”
“Rocco,” Uncle Enzo growls, a clear warning swinging in his tone. “For once, do yourself a favor and keep your stupid mouth closed.”
I shut my eyes, not giving a fuck about whatever amateur porn garbage Rocco’s drooling over.
I want to be with my wife. The hint of vanilla and cloves still clung to our sheets last night but no Caterina there meant no rest. She left me a message yesterday afternoon, but I was in a meeting with our top cocaine supplier and after that I had the debtor’s run to make before I left Vegas for a couple of days.
By the time I made it back to a practically empty mansion last night, it was far too late for me to return her call.
It’s just like my father leaving me with twice the amount of work to handle while he skips out of town.
I swear all he does lately is make threats.
I’m sure he’ll be sucking up to Don Vicini while he's here though. Fucking New York, they act like they’re the bluebloods of the mafia when their hands are every bit as dirty as ours.
After our flight lands, Rocco places his hand on my shoulder. “I’ve arranged a car for us,” he tells me with a smile which turns my tired edginess into a different variety of alertness. My uncle is silent for a change. Something feels… off.
“I’m meeting Armando and have my own ride arranged.”
“Are you certain, Alessio? We’re all going to the same place. You’ll see your sweet little bride soon enough,” Rocco adds.
That prickly sensation at the base of my skull, the one I first recognized as intuition many years ago, has me refusing them again.
Maybe it’s nothing but an offer to ride together.
Maybe Enzo and Rocco think eliminating me and disposing of my body in someone else’s territory means they can take over Vegas someday.
Or, maybe my father really is that angry with me and thinks I’m dumb enough to get into a car with them when all my instincts are screaming at me not to.
“I’m certain.” With that, I turn away from them in the crowded airport, knowing they’re not ballsy enough to attack me in such a public place.
I find the locker Carlo texted me the code for and remove the waiting handgun, quickly tucking it under my jacket. At least my future brother-in-law is a man of his word. “Where are you?” I ask Armando when he answers his mobile a few minutes later.
“Watching the girls pretend to eat before we leave for the audition. I swear, you’d think all three were facing a firing squad when it’s Frankie who has to perform. Well, that and Sofia’s getting married tomorrow to a man she doesn’t want. I think Caterina’s just nervous on behalf of them both.”
A longing twists inside my chest hearing my wife’s name.
I miss her. I never thought I would. I never shared my bed before I married but a little over a month of marriage and I’ve become addicted to having her by my side when I wake.
I should’ve called her back first. I’d only called Armando because I need a ride.
“Is there time for you and the girls to swing by and pick me up on your way?” I don’t particularly care about watching a bunch of singing, not even Frankie, nor do I want to share my wife’s attention with anyone else, but I want to be with her enough that I’ll gladly agree to all of it.
“You want us to drive to JFK to get you, then back to a place that’s ten minutes away from where we are when your cousin is supposed to check-in in less than thirty minutes for her audition?
” Armando asks, incredulously. “Have you ever looked at a map of this fucking city or heard of the concept of traffic, Alessio?”
I roll my eyes, knowing he’s right. “Fine. I’ll get a cab and meet you there.”
I hang up and my phone rings a minute later. Smiling like a goddamn idiot, I answer. “Good morning, wife. I apologize for not calling you back yester-”
“Don’t come to the audition, Alessio. Frankie’s nervous enough as it is. I can text you and let you know how she does. You’ll be bored. It’s… don’t worry about joining us. ”
It’s not that she didn’t return my greeting first.
It’s not that she sounds nervous.
It’s not even that she doesn’t want me to come join them.
It’s all three things together making that prickly sensation at the base of my skull return.
“I want to see you and know you’re safe.”
“Don’t be silly. Armando will be there. Sofia has two Vicini guards with her and Carlo is coming to watch, too. We’ll be fine. Juilliard is not a place the Bratva hangs around, right? I’ll… I’ll look forward to seeing you at our hotel room afterwards. I missed you last night.”
The last was spoken in a whisper, and I can clearly picture the way her cheeks pinkened as she said it. “Very well. I’ll see you later. Tell Frankie-”
The call ends abruptly before I can finish the sentence. My bad feeling about all this increases. A cab pulls up to the sidewalk where I’m standing and I get in. “Lincoln Center Plaza. Quickly.” I pass him two hundreds and he peels out. Fuck going to the hotel first. I’m going straight to my wife.
Fifty-two minutes later, the cab stops and my mobile is buzzing again – Armando. “Something’s happened, Alessio.”
“Caterina?” I croak, wondering if my heart will stop beating any second now and wondering how many I’ll murder if something has happened to her. I could wipe out everyone in Manhattan, and it still wouldn’t satisfy my wrath or fill this widening hole in my chest.
“She’s safe. It’s Sofia.”
My heart keeps beating despite the fact I care about my half-sister. Only Caterina could end me by being… “Spit it out, Armando,” I bark. “Is she alive?”
“Yes, but she’s gone missing.”
“Tell me everything.”
His everything isn’t much. Armando was focused on protecting my wife as he should be.
Carlo was busy watching Frankie sing, and Sofia suddenly said she needed to use the restroom, saying she felt nauseous.
The guard who followed her didn’t get suspicious enough to act until she’d been in there for fifteen minutes.
A window opening onto an inner courtyard had been jimmied and she was gone.
But, Sofia, our little drama queen, left a note:
Marry another girl and try not to make her miserable, you filthy manwhore.
Perhaps we should’ve got her an audition here as well.
I should’ve suspected something. Sofia’s been unhappy ever since the night of my Seconda when she caught Carlo being serviced by a couple of whores by the pool, the same night when I found her with her tub of ice cream and kiss-swollen lips crying in her bedroom and sent her to my wife.
I just didn’t think she was this stupid.
Or this brave. This is more like something Frankie or Gia might try. Or Caterina.
No, Caterina bravely walked down that aisle to marry me despite having every reason to believe I would hurt her because of what her brother had done.
When I tried to make her brothers angry by kissing her roughly at the ceremony, she bit me, defiance dancing in those beautiful brown eyes.
She didn’t scream or cry when the Bratva attacked us.
She held a knife to my throat when she thought I’d cheated on her.
She fears my father, but she does not cower before him like my stepmother.
My wife is strong, and she’s too courageous to simply run away.
But she might help another girl try to, especially one she loves. Even if it meant betraying me.
Shoving the useless, wounded feelings that thought provokes aside, I focus on the hunt. It’s been twenty minutes at best, and Sofia still would’ve had to make it out of the school without drawing too much attention to herself.
Cutting down 65th on foot, I bump into a man near my height with reddish brown hair and a beard.
After I rush past him, I promptly turn back around.
I only caught a glimpse of him but he looked…
familiar. I start to follow him when I see Armando hurrying my way.
In a blink, the man I bumped into has disappeared in the hectic flow of New Yorkers. They’re fucking everywhere.
“Anything?” I ask Armando. He shakes his head.
Carlo and his two guards are exiting the building from another door.
My wife and Frankie are close behind them.
This is a fucking shit show. I snarl at Armando to watch over the women.
I don’t trust these New York guys any further than I can throw them.
I must keep searching for my sister. Her life could be at stake.
Her beauty is well-known in our world and so is her face.
The fucking Bratva would be foaming at the mouth for a chance to hold a De Luca girl hostage.
Then, I see something else that makes my blood boil – Nico and Dante Morelli. What the fuck are they doing here?
All at once, a million shards of mistrust burrow under my skin. Caterina was abrupt on the phone and didn’t seem to want me here. Sofia didn’t plot this on her own. But why them? Why the hell would Sofia turn to them for help?
Because my Morelli wife would convince her to trust them.
Because maybe I shouldn’t trust Nico’s little sister any more than my father trusted my mother.
I’m in the mood to shoot first and ask questions later when I draw my gun and stalk toward the brothers, ready for blood… and ready for vengeance.