CHAPTER 26 MAURO
Present Day
The engine is screaming at full throttle as I tear through the forest toward my cabin. Dirt sprays beneath the tires, and the Jeep bucks violently over the rutted ground. My jaw is clenched so tightly it feels like the enamel on my teeth is about to crack.
On one hand, I shouldn't have left Jared alone. On the other, I can't confront that son of a bitch with my True Mate standing right there, so I have to trust Renato to protect him. I just have to reach my brother before he gets anywhere near the Santoro estate.
My phone lets out another sharp beep.
I ease off the gas and glance at the screen. It's a text from Ennio.
Be careful, Mauro. Rocco is making his move today.
Well… that's exactly what's happening.
I toss the phone aside and focus on the road again.
Eventually, I reach my cabin by the muddy trail that's barely visible between the trees. Rocco's vehicle is already there, a Mercedes-AMG G-Class. So he came prepared for rough terrain.
I glance at my phone. The security cameras show that Rocco is alone, which is interesting. He's sitting calmly on the couch inside the cabin, waiting for me.
So he found me after all.
Point to him.
I put so much effort into making sure this place couldn't be found, ensuring no one would ever track me here, but that was na?ve. They say the mafia can find anyone if they truly set their minds to it, and I’m a traitor; in our family, betrayal has always been punished with death.
So, I’m not surprised they’re here again.
I take my gun in hand, then kick the door open with one hard strike and step inside.
The moment Rocco sees me, he bursts into laughter.
His face, split by that deep scar, twists into something grotesque whenever he laughs, making him look almost inhuman.
"Wow. You got here really fast. I barely had time to make myself comfortable." He gestures around the cabin. "You really didn't settle that far from Renato. Dumb, Mauro. Really dumb. All it took was a little observation from a distance, and we had you."
I keep him in my sights with one hand while signing with the other, which is not easy; I need to use the other one from time to time.
I'm going to kill you, Rocco. The fact that you came here only convinced me it's the right decision.
"So… you're going to kill me, or are you actually doing it? Right now, Mauro, while you've got the chance… Because that little window of opportunity is awfully narrow, little brother."
I tighten my grip on the pistol and sign again.
I doubt you'd come here without some kind of insurance. Talk. What is it?
He lets out a long, rasping laugh.
"You're thinking along the right lines. I've got an excellent choice for you. I have Jared already. Either you kill me right now and never find out what is going to happen to him… or you let me live, and you'll get to watch exactly what I do to him with your own eyes."
My anger overwhelms my reason.
I pull the trigger.
The bullet slams into Rocco's chest. Of course, I know I should've aimed for his head if I wanted to be certain, but I fired into his chest for a reason. I wanted to show him just how determined I am. But I can’t kill him yet. Fate only knows what plan he’s already set in motion.
His top-tier body armor stops the round, but the impact is still powerful enough to knock the air from his lungs. Rocco slides off the couch and drops onto his knees, bracing himself against the floor with both fists.
He coughs for a moment, doubled over.
Then he lifts his head.
"Well, look at that. You've actually got some balls. Just not enough to finish the job… and maybe that's for the best, because it would've ended very badly for Jared."
Still bent over, breathing roughly, he pulls his phone from his pocket and turns the screen toward me.
The picture shows Jared lying unconscious on the living room rug with his eyes closed.
I recognize that rug immediately. It's the patterned rug in Renato's living room.
An icy chill races through my body. Not that, everything but not that!
"So… what do you say, little brother? I've got him. What've you got?"
This is the moment I started preparing for six years ago.
The moment that demanded a Plan C.
I always knew it might come because Rocco isn't someone you can predict. Like every psychopath, he comes up with ideas no sane person ever would.
I sign a few words.
Then maybe we should trade my True Mate… for yours.
Silence fills the cabin.
I know that got his attention.
Rocco's black-haired head remains lowered, so I can't see his face. He just stares at the floor, his fists still planted against it.
The silence stretches on.
Maybe what Moon said was true, that everyone wants to find their True Mate… or maybe it isn't. With Rocco, you never know.
So I have to build the picture for him. I need to make it visual. Make his fated real.
One sentence isn't enough.
Without taking my gun off him, I pull out my phone and type as fast as I can.
"Funny how criminals seem drawn to each other.
Your True Mate has quite a colorful past. Even though he's an omega, he used to run with a gang as a teen.
While high, he killed several people and went to prison for it.
He's come to his senses now and lives a completely different life, but here's the best part…
he's Sicilian. I heard you once said you couldn't imagine being with someone who wasn't. Looks like fate respected your preference.
On top of that, he's really cute… but if you do anything to Jared, you'll never find out who he is. "
Rocco keeps staring at the floor.
The silence doesn't break.
I lower my eyes to my phone, ready to show him the picture of the guy and to type a few more lines that might convince him even further because I still can't tell whether Rocco is the one exception, someone who truly doesn't care about his True Mate… or not.
That brief moment, when my attention shifts to the screen, is apparently exactly what Rocco has been waiting for.
He lunges at me.
I manage to fire before he reaches me, and this time the bullet strikes much higher, near his neck, glancing off the edge of his vest and ripping through the scent gland at the side of his neck, spraying blood across his skin.
A savage roar tears out of him, but he still reaches me.
He slams into me with such brutal force that my back crashes against the wall, then clamps both hands around my wrists so I can't fire again.
The surge of adrenaline pumping through him is so overwhelming that I realize the only way to overpower him would be to shift into my other form, and I don't want to do that right in front of him… though I may not have a choice.
Rocco's face is inches from mine now, flushed a furious red. A thin strand of saliva hangs from one corner of his mouth, while tiny drops of blood from the wound on his neck have splattered across the scarred side of his jaw. His eyes gleam with pure madness.
"If you think you can control me through my True Mate, think again. I don't have a bond with him, so if you kill him, nothing happens to me. Can't say the same about you and Jared… one snap of his neck, and you go down with him."
He hisses the words straight into my face.
With both of my wrists pinned, I can't type on my phone or sign to him.
Rocco notices that immediately. He tilts his head, his lips twisting into a warped grin.
"You were always too soft. Not mafia material at all…
" He trails off, as if a thought has just crossed his mind.
"Funny. I never would've believed it before, but I guess I've got my own…
" He hesitates. "…softer half too. My sweet little twin. "
Rocco chuckles. I listen to what he says with growing astonishment.
"But I have to keep him in line, under my control, because without me watching over him, that other half of me might actually want to… spare you! Can you believe that? Hell, maybe he's whispering in my head right now, begging me to do exactly that… but, oh well…"
The stuff he's babbling sounds downright bizarre, and I'm starting to wonder if Rocco has something wrong with his head.
His grin widens.
"Lucky for me, I'm the one in charge. Which is why I'm taking Jared."
Then Rocco abruptly cuts himself off.
His head gives a sharp twitch before tilting slightly, almost as though he's wearing some kind of hidden earpiece that malfunctioned.
Maybe he is?
But I don't hear a thing, and as an alpha I should be able to catch even the faintest whisper coming through an earpiece.
Still, there's nothing.
Yet Rocco keeps reacting as if he's carrying on a live conversation with someone, receiving updates that change his every move.
Is Rocco developing some serious mental disorder, something like schizophrenia?
"Fuck," he mutters. "Don't do it, you son of a bitch!" His voice suddenly rises, his face turns away from me, his expression distant, unfocused. "You asshole! Why the fuck did you leave him? You goddamn idiot…!"
Who is he talking to?
Whatever was supposed to happen has gone wrong, though I have no idea what, and I know I have to use that one second. The momentary distraction is all I need. I slam my forehead straight into his nose.
The blow is hard and sends him stumbling backward, but not hard enough to make him let go of the hand holding my wrist.
"If you think this is over, you're out of your fucking mind!" he howls.
And he twists my wrist with a violent jerk. The gun flies out of my hand, but my reflexes don't fail me. I snap my knee up and kick it as it falls, sending it skidding across the room until it crashes behind the old chest with a loud metallic bang.
But that's not the end of it. I still have one more ace up my sleeve. The moment Rocco makes a small move, as if he's about to lunge for the gun, I yank my arm up over my shoulder, draw my katana, and level it straight at him, forcing him to stumble backward.
We stare each other down. He's breathing hard.
Moments like this make me curse the fact that I'm mute, because I have a lot I'd like to scream at him.