Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
RAFE
I looked between Massimo and Adelina, holding myself in place beside the exit. When I focused again on my half-brother, it wasn’t Massimo standing there, but our father. Internally, I flinched. Massimo had pushed himself beyond our Papà’s expectations, while I went off to serve the country. And now, Mass was the mobster, and I, the monster.
A ghoul who craved the off limits. My eyes dropped my eyes to focus on a knot in the hardwood floor.
Mass and I were probably equals in the numbers of deaths that could be laid at each of our feet, but his were all enemies to la Famiglia and likely had bloodstained hands like him. Some of the people I had slaughtered were—no, I couldn’t let those little faces creep into my head now.
But what was I to do when they certainly would’ve fired the guns they had trained on me?
Stop! Please, please, stop, I begged the thoughts and visions to stay away.
I forced my eyes to stay open, though my vision had blurred. My fists clenched at my sides—another battle with myself to not press the heels of my hands to my temples. I needed to focus on the business at hand and push all that other stuff down deep.
Adelina crossed her arms over her chest, hanging closer to Wilde than Massimo. Every time she looked at me, she had the same fire in her eyes. It was probably fury with Sas, who had basically been dragging her out, but I also suspected it was because of last night.
When our gazes met now—like they’d been locked together while Sas fucked her—the intensity in her dark irises burned me deeply, leaving my soul sizzling. She, though, felt the wrongness too, because she averted her attention back to Wilde.
“Mia figlia,” said Massimo, calling her over like she was precious to him.
Lies. Mass didn’t know the meaning of the word precious.
“Have you called your mother?” He opened his arm, hand toward his side in a silent order for her to come like a dog.
“I talked to her a couple of days ago,” said Adelina, returning to him with her head bent.
“We haven’t taken her cell phone,” said Wilde. “She’s allowed to communicate with the outside.”
“How... modern of you.” Massimo curled his upper lip and then snapped his fingers, beckoning his assistant into action. “Get my wife and my younger daughter.”
The assistant scurried off, her skirt tight to the curve of her ass. Massimo never changed, learning from our father. I didn’t know this assistant’s name, but there had been many like her. There would be more after her.
Would he put a bastard in the skirt’s belly like our father did with my mom?
Adelina faced the young woman with a placid, business-like mask. The assistant was probably Adelina’s age, if not younger. The acerbic thoughts I suspected were passing behind her professionalism made my skin itch, as though I’d bathed in acid.
However, her statuesque demeanor spoke volumes to the fabric of the woman she was becoming. She would say nothing of her thoughts now, but something brewed in her mind.
“If this really is a family event, then Sas should be here,” said Wilde.
“Mister Tate had a few days to marry my daughter,” said Massimo with a dismissive shrug. “When Neomi’s father dropped her off, we were married within the hour. It’s not my concern that your man hasn’t taken the opportunity. Except, that is, when it comes to bringing him into la Famiglia’s business.”
“The deal said a wedding,” said Wilde, his jaw tensing with every word. “Isn’t that why we’re fucking here?”
“Your bastards aren’t religious,” said Massimo, returning a small growl.
A figurative fraying rope stretched between the Don and the Prez, and I waited for that last thread to snap, for guns to come out, and for this little reunion to turn into a blood bath.
“I wouldn’t expect a motorcycle club president to stand on ceremony.” Massimo quirked a brow. “An arranged marriage was the bargain.”
Wilde’s voice lowered a notch. “What about what your daughter wants?”
All the eyes in the room flashed in her direction, but she didn’t return the scrutiny. Entering the penthouse had put Adelina back into a box, stuck under Massimo’s thumb. It silenced her into a demeanor that made it seem like her blood boiled beneath her skin, and surprisingly, her face didn’t turn red. Steam didn’t come out of her ears.
She didn’t move a muscle.
Massimo’s daughter was still vicious, even—or especially—toward her father. She rocked back on heels, and I couldn’t figure out what held her back now.
Sas? Graff?
Me?
Noemi and Caterina Parisi walked into the penthouse living room, saving Adelina from answering the question on the table. Mass and Neomi’s eldest daughter turned away from her father with her chin held high. Wearing a warm smile, she joined her mother and sister.
While the mother gathered her daughter up in her arms, welcoming her home, Noemi narrowed her gaze on me, like she knew the sins I’d committed against Adelina.
It’s not possible , I told myself.
Noemi was just a lioness, protecting her cub.
“I’m so happy you’re home,” said Caterina, which made Noemi gather both of them into a single embrace.
Their mother’s glare turned to her husband, and I released the breath I had been holding.
“Moglie.” Wife. No one except Massimo Parisi would dare refer to their partner as “wife” in today’s world. But Mass waited for Neomi as though it were the most normal way to speak to someone he loved.
“Sì, marito ?” Neomi rolled the Rs longer than normal, the only sign she had beef with her husband.
Adelina truly was a melding of the two people facing off. She had her mother’s high cheekbones and her father’s eyes. But more than that, she inherited their more subtle qualities too.
Determined.
Strong.
Beautifully brutal.
“Adelina needs a wedding dress,” said Massimo. “Take her shopping.”
“And take one of my guys,” added Wilde.
Noemi turned her glare on Wilde, but he didn’t flinch. He’d probably seen things scarier than Noemi, but what he didn’t understand is that she was married to a true psychopath. She had been in the Mafia her whole life. She’d been born to the life and held no romantic delusions about what happened in Massimo’s inner sanctuary. And she’d never strayed, no matter how many times her husband did.
“Why?” she asked Wilde.
“We’ll send Alessio,” said Massimo dismissively.
“The fuck you will,” I snapped. There wasn’t any way I was letting my brother assign a man known as The Wraith to Adelina’s protection detail.
Wilde swiveled to look at me with a question.
My brother narrowed his eyes on me, but Noemi didn’t even look at me. I wasn’t worth the effort. I wasn’t Mafia any longer.
Gathering myself, I said, “I’m happy to go along. I’ve been both Adelina and Caterina’s escorts since I came back from active duty.”
“Adelina is one of us, now,” said Wilde, directing it back to Massimo. “We protect our own. But I’m not sure that’s a job for Rafe anymore.”
I started to object, but the Prez held up his hand.
“Graff, then,” I suggested through gritted teeth.
Adelina knitted her eyes together, but I didn’t know what she was asking. Did she want me to tag along?
Since the Prez said no, I offered her a lame excuse. “Sas can’t go. He’ll see you in your wedding dress, and that’s bad luck.”
She smirked, finally breaking her hardened mask.
“Fine,” said Noemi, turning Adelina away from me. “We should go now and take whoever this Graff man is.” She shooed her daughters ahead of her like she had done a hundred times. Adelina and Caterina went, being good little dolls.
Adelina didn’t even look back at me as she got into the elevator and the doors closed, but Caterina was talking Adelina’s ear off. They had always been close, and Cat’s favorite topic was boys. And I knew for a fact that they had been texting every day, almost all the time.
I stiffened. Would Adelina possibly tell Caterina about us?
With a sigh, Massimo walked over to the bar and poured himself another drink. “Now that the women are gone, why’d you think it was okay to bring my daughter into this office while we talked business?” Tension lingered in his tone.
Wilde explained, “She hopped on the bike and wanted to come.”
“You didn’t just throw her off?” asked Massimo, and I scowled.
“Is that how you want us to treat your daughter?” Wilde asked.
“Seemed logical with your kind,” said Massimo.
Surprisingly, Wilde held his own, not showing the anger that rumbled in his voice when he said, “We don’t disrespect our women.”
Caught between the two of them, I gritted my teeth at my brother’s audacity. If he thought the MC would abuse her, that really showed his complete lack of normal human feelings. And he sent me there too, thinking I was that kind of bastard as well.
“Is that so?” Massimo scoffed. “You have a clubhouse filled with whores. You hop some of them up on coke. Is that respect in your book?”
Wilde clamped his teeth shut, and I entered the conversation.
“Fratello”—I used the Italian for brother, because it always got his attention—“Adelina has been treated very well.”
“I know she has the necessities, Rafe,” he said, my name a sigh. He still sounded displeased. “But I’m not happy with her future husband. He’s crass. I suppose it’s too late to get another man since they’ve already fucked”
I hadn’t mentioned anything specific about Sas being such a motherfucker with Adelina. Or that she’d expressed interest and arousal in how he’d been treating her. I didn’t like Sas any more than my brother, but I was slowly getting a read on him.
As misplaced and clumsy as his actions were, he cared about the club and the brothers, which was more than I could say for Massimo.
The Don only cared for power.
And... after last night, Sas and I were connected through Adelina.
Wilde jutted out his chin. “Sas is the VP of our LA chapter. It’s the highest-ranking position we have available.”
Massimo rolled his eyes. Adelina looked so much like him when she did that.
“That’s nice and all,” said Massimo, sounding bored, “but I’m disheartened by his incompetence. Especially with how he has been dealing with the cargo and the cartel. I’m not happy with you either, president.”
“I don’t need you to be happy with me,” said Wilde, voice low. “This little arrangement was your fucking brainchild. Doesn’t mean I answer to you.”
“I’ve entrusted my daughter to you,” continued Massimo like he hadn’t heard Wilde. “You’ve given my daughter to someone who’s careless.”
“Sas isn’t as careless as you think,” said Wilde.
“He wouldn’t be, obviously,” I added, “to become the VP.”
Wilde nodded, but darkness shrouded Massimo’s features.
“There is no one else,” continued Wilde. “All the ranking officers—besides the treasurer—have ol’ ladies.”
Massimo circled his desk and sipped his Scotch. “And what’s wrong with the treasurer?”
“Beans is...” Wilde scratched his head. “I’m not sure. I’ve never seen him with anyone. Never even heard rumors of it. I think he’s...”
“Not into women?” I offered, then scowled. “Well, maybe not into anyone?”
Wilde waved off the topic. “Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t do shit ’cept spreadsheets. Sas is our only possible officer. He’s young and can be unpredictable, but he’s a solid choice.”
It seemed tough for him to play diplomatic, but he managed. Massimo would have some respect for it because he too liked to play to decorum in these moments. It was something that Gambinos had always done and what our father taught us.
We were gentlemen... until we weren’t. Massimo had a room of his own to prove it.
My brother finished off the whiskey and sighed. “A loveless and sexless marriage is one thing, but there’s gotta be trust. Think maybe we should meet this?—”
“Sas is loyal as fuck,” barked Wilde. “He’s saved my other VP’s life. And Adelina’s, if you remember. What was it you said that meant to your Italian family?”
Wilde was walking on thin ice, and I tried not to grimace. I could pretend that I had control over Adelina, but I couldn’t even pretend with Massimo.
Mass smirked and tapped his finger against the glass as one second after another ticked by. My heartbeat quickened as he reached for the bottle and poured another three fingers. “What do you think, little brother?”
I had too many thoughts. Too many ideas about Adelina and her life and what happened last night between Sas and Adelina and Graff... and me. I hadn’t been involved, not really. I had only watched, but I had hungered for more. I had barely slept last night, exercising until I was sweating and spent and then working my cock until it nearly bled.
Massimo was still watching me with our father’s eyes—my eyes too—but that was where our similar features ended. His skin was tanner than mine, and his thin lips were in a constant downturn. We were only half-brothers—something he had made very clear to me when I was young—and I often felt the divide between us.
Our blood wasn’t the same.
“Sas is fine,” I grumbled. “He’ll get the job done.”
“What a stunning review of the man,” said Massimo, rolling his eyes. “But fine. I’ll arrange things with Bishop Thomas down at the Guardian Angel Cathedral.”
Wilde stepped toward the door. “Then we should see you?—”
“We’re not done yet,” said Massimo.
Wilde shut his jaw, and I went rigid too. Apparently, it was too much to ask that this would be over.
Massimo checked his watch. “Rafe, get Sas ready for the wedding.”