Chapter 32 Caterina
Caterina
Monday morning, the cook is muttering under her breath in Italian as I pick at another meal she’s prepared.
Ornella says that I should eat, that my husband would not want me to waste away.
I pretend not to understand her. I have no appetite, and I’m quite certain now he doesn’t care if I eat or not.
As promised, Alessio sent me back to Vegas Friday night. My phone was returned with one tracking application removed and another added. I’m a perpetual teenager to them. Hell, I am still a teenager. I wish I felt more like a rebellious one today.
After I arrived at the mansion with a couple of guards, I tried calling my husband when the sun should’ve been coming up in New York. A woman answered his phone. Giggling, she told me he was too busy to talk and then hung up on me. He never returned my call.
He is cruel and he is unforgiving and he answered my betrayal with one aimed directly at my heart.
I want to hate him for it with the same intensity which he burns with the desire to kill my brothers.
But my heart was fashioned for love. It feels like my weakest link today.
Everyone I care about is beyond my assistance or doesn’t want my affection.
All love does is pull me further down a path toward misery, waiting for the day my husband finally kills one of my brothers or vice versa and all my foolish hopes die for the last time.
The hours pass slowly, each one a bitter increment measuring something I’ve lost. With every day in which Sofia isn’t found, I become more and more fearful that something dreadful has happened to her.
Nico returned home after unsuccessfully trying to convince my husband to let me stay with my mother and the babies for a few days. “He probably knew if I got you to Chicago, I’d never let you leave again.”
“I wouldn’t have stayed there. For better or worse, he’s my husband and I have a life here.” He’d been silent on the subject after that. I’m not sure if Nico could sense my anguish or he was too focused on his own problems. He certainly has his hands full.
Initially, I was glad that Armando didn’t travel back to Vegas with me after the uncomfortable encounter in my hotel suite.
Now, I’m not certain that’s for the best. Bibi has returned home to enter a state of seclusion, full of demands from the servants and lots of hysterical slamming of doors.
The problem is Rocco flew back with her, saying his uncle has placed him in charge of the household until his return.
He struts around like a peacock. I avoid him but at least he doesn’t frighten me the way Silvio does.
Poor Valdo was sent back as well. He follows me around during the day since his mother is preoccupied with her dramatics.
He seeks my quiet reassurance that everything will be alright.
He’s only nine, the same age Alessio was when he watched his brother kill his mother on his father’s orders.
I watch Valdo play his video games, feigning interest in how many kills and captures he achieves, while grieving over things I can’t undo or control.
How soon will it be until this boy will see or do something he can’t forget or forgive himself for?
Something that will harden his heart irrevocably?
And then, there’s Frankie. Alessio said he’d try to send her home with me, but it’s been three days since I last saw her being led away for questioning by Don Vicini and her uncle. What have they been doing to her all this time? I shudder to contemplate it.
A commotion in the entryway draws me from my melancholy morning and gives me the excuse I need to escape the cook’s scolding. My steps ring out lightly across the marble as I wonder what I’ll do if it’s Alessio. Is there any hope for our marriage after he cheated on me?
“Why are you here?” I hear Rocco angrily asking someone.
“Because Alessio told me to come with her, and I am nothing if not a dutiful soldier.”
Armando! My pulse picks up, unsure if this is a good thing or not.
Armando has guarded me for years, since the night I became engaged to Alessio.
I’ve trusted him. I liked him. I even saw him as another annoying older brother at times.
But he’s not my brother and the other night he reminded me what he truly is, a Made Man, a De Luca solider, a killer, someone who will torture others at the drop of a hat in the name of their cause.
I nearly collapse with relief the next moment when I turn the corner and see who’s standing beside him in the doorway. “Frankie!”
With her chin held high and her red hair shining in the morning sunlight, she summons a smile for me, but her poise falters when I stumble into her, grasping her tightly.
Someone I love has come home, and I don’t want her to fly away again.
I don’t care about the men watching us. All I care about is she’s pale and tired-looking as she promises me she’s alright.
“I’ve been so worried about you!”
“I know. I’ve been worried about you-”
“Enough, you traitorous little bitch,” Rocco barks at Frankie, shoving us apart.
I stare at my husband’s cousin in disbelief. He’s a nasty piece of shit, and I haven’t forgotten the awful things he said the day of my betrothal dinner, but he has never dared speak that way directly to any of us girls.
“Rocco,” Armando snarls in a low and dangerous voice, “I have instructions to guard Francesca until decisions are made but, if you don’t remove your hand from Mrs. De Luca’s wrist at once, I’ll be forced to cut it off.
” My eyes fly to the bodyguard, noting the fading bruises on his temple and around his throat, unable to forget that Alessio threatened him in a similar manner recently for touching me.
Rocco releases his hold on me. “I’m not hurting her. But this one’s going to pay for her crimes.”
“Even if that’s the case, she won’t be paying you.”
“You don’t make the decisions here, Armando. I’ll be Underboss someday, and you’re just a fucking soldier.”
“You’ll be Underboss someday if you outlive your father, and that’s currently up for debate. Now, fuck off before you really make me angry.”
Rocco hisses like the offended little weasel he is, but Armando never flinches or backs down. Knowing he’s outmatched, Rocco slinks away after giving Frankie a look of pure loathing.
“They know you helped her?” I whisper, worriedly.
“They know she helped her,” Armando replies before Frankie can.
“Is she a prisoner?”
“Not exactly, Cat,” Frankie answers.
I look between the pair, wondering what I don’t know. Too much, I’m afraid. After my one attempt to call Alessio, I’ve not reached out to anyone who was still in New York and Gia knows even less than I do since she never left Chicago, thanks to there being no wedding to attend.
“Come on,” Armando says with resignation. “I know you’ll follow us anyway.”
Of course, I will. There’s no way I’m leaving Frankie’s side after Rocco sounded so vicious. Plus, I want to know everything that’s happened.
We’re led to a different part of the mansion, one I’ve never visited. “These were his mother’s quarters,” Frankie murmurs as Armando pulls out a key.
“Yes, as I understand it, Alessio’s mother was permitted to sleep apart from his father after she gave him two sons.
” My lip curls up in disgust over Armando’s statement.
I feel sympathy for the woman even if I can’t understand how she might’ve been planning to leave her two young boys with that monster.
“The outer door is fitted with a lock. If Frankie is not a prisoner, why is she being put into a cell?” I snap at Armando. He walks in without a reply. “Fine, don’t answer me but, if you try to make me leave, you’ll have to carry me out, kicking and screaming.”
“I don’t plan on signing my own death warrant today, Caterina,” he replies, dryly. “Stay with her. I’ll be right outside. Knock if you want to go to your own room. Francesca, you know my orders.”
She nods and, completely stunned, I listen to the sound of the lock being turned and immediately a sense of panic flutters in my chest. “How can you be so calm about this?” I ask Frankie who seems unbothered.
“Armando is under orders to protect me as well as you. I’m not afraid of a locked door.”
“Protect you? From Rocco? Frankie, what happened in New York after I left?”
Urging me to sit, she tells me. Mostly, she sat waiting in locked rooms like this one, but Silvio questioned her harshly over her part in Sofia’s disappearance in front of Don Vicini and his men.
“Only the words were harsh, Caterina. They did not torture me. They didn’t touch me at all. He wouldn’t allow it.”
“Who? Alessio?”
“No, Alessio wasn’t there. I meant Carlo wouldn’t allow it, not even his father, the Don, could check his rage when Uncle Silvio suggested it.
" That surprises me. I figured Carlo’s rage would be directed at Frankie once he learned of her involvement.
Her next words surprise me even more. “Perhaps it would’ve been better if he had allowed the torture. ”
“You can’t mean that.”
“I might. Carlo says he was promised a bride by the Vegas Trio when peace was made two years ago. He says he expects them to uphold their promise or the peace will be at an end. He says if Sofia does not return before the week is finished… he’s going to marry me instead.”
***
Hours later, we’ve talked ourselves hoarse, and I’m curled up beside her to sleep.
She’s like a sister to me, and I can’t leave her when she’s so distressed.
Everyone was furious when they learned her brother was still alive and that she plotted Sofia’s escape with him.
Heads will roll for that hit not only being botched but lied about, I’m sure.
And, we’re still not sure what punishment Frankie might ultimately face assuming she doesn’t marry Carlo.
She’s worried over Rocco’s behavior. I see now why she’s glad to have Armando posted outside the door.
My initial shock over what Carlo had demanded wore off as I’d tried to offer her some comfort. “Even with all the craziness that day, I noticed he couldn’t keep his eyes off you during your audition. Perhaps, in time, he might develop feelings for you and...”
She’d shook her head. “Oh Cat, you’re an even bigger romantic than Sofia.
Carlo’s a player who likes bedding any woman who catches his eye.
Do you even know all the men from New York my father helped the FBI put in prison when he turned rat?
Think of it, New York’s future Don marrying me?
I can’t imagine what he’s thinking, but I’m certain nothing good will come of it. ”
I want to believe she’s wrong but what do I know? She’s right. I am a romantic fool. I thought Alessio might fall in love with me after all.
“A woman answered his phone the morning after I left,” I whisper in the darkness, glad Frankie won’t see my tears at least.
“I don’t believe it.”
“You think I hallucinated a woman answering his phone?”
“No, I just don’t believe he cheated on you.”
“We are both plagued with optimism on the other’s behalf, I suppose.”
She grasps my hand in the dark, squeezing it. “Wait until he returns and ask him. Force him to look you in the eye and answer. He left New York that morning you’re talking about. You know that, right?”
“No one has told me anything.”
“I overheard Armando on the phone with him yesterday. Alessio was in Zurich.”
“Zurich? Why would Sofia go there?”
“Europe must be safer for her than here. It wasn't part of my brother’s escape plans, but she's not with Ronan.”
“Do you think the Trio will catch your brother to ask him about it?”
“I hope not. I have a feeling locating Sofia will be the last of Ronan’s worries if they do.
” I squeeze her hand back in sympathy. “What I do know is that your husband is hunting for his sister. I doubt he’s been focused on breaking your heart with some random woman in the interim.
If my cousin is that stupid though, I'll kick his ass for you.”
I grin at her fierce loyalty before sobering again. “It’s not like it would be hard for him to…” I can’t even say it; the thought makes me so sick.
“Uncle Silvio told him not to come home until he finds her, but Alessio told Armando last night that, come hell or high water, he would be coming home to his wife before the week is over. That doesn’t sound like a man who’s put you far from his mind or his heart to me.”
I want to curse that little spark of hope Frankie’s words ignite in my soul. I should hate him. But, I can’t. The small wish that she might be right about my husband burns too brightly to pretend it isn’t there. Now, I only have to wait until he comes home to see what chance we might still have.