Chapter 47 #2
Thankfully, Marcello’s phone rings, pulling everyone’s attention away from me. Isobel’s eyes follow him the moment he answers the call and rises from beside her, stepping away from the rest of us so no one overhears what’s being said.
“Something’s wrong,” Stella murmurs to Kirill, her eyes fixed on our older brother.
“Easy, milaya. I’m sure it’s nothing,” Kirill soothes, his large hand rubbing over my sister’s thigh.
I drag my eyes away from them. Watching anyone else’s happiness only reminds me of everything I’ve lost. And though I could never hate my siblings, it feels unnecessarily cruel to have a front-row seat to how beautiful their lives are while mine has fallen apart.
However, the second my gaze lands on Marcello and his locks onto mine, my entire body tenses.
“I’ll be there in an hour,” he says before hanging up the phone, finally tearing his gaze away from mine and turning his attention to my sister. “Stella. With me.”
The authoritative tone in my brother’s voice is still something I’m getting used to.
My sister, on the other hand, seems more than accustomed to it by now.
Stella immediately rises from her chair and presses a quick kiss to Kirill’s lips, while Isobel silently slips off the couch and moves to stand beside Marcello without him ever having to ask.
“See?” Stella teases with a smirk. “Told you.”
“And you think I’m staying here?” Kirill snorts, already pushing himself to his feet. “No, dusha moya. Wherever you go, I go. Remember?”
Stella beams at him, delight radiating across her face, only for it to dim the second her eyes meet mine.
It happens more often than I’d like to admit. My grief has a way of poisoning everyone else’s happiness.
Once upon a time, I would’ve felt guilty about that. The old Anna would’ve forced a smile onto her face just to spare everyone the discomfort of witnessing her misery.
But that Anna died in a church beside her husband.
No worries, sis. This version of me won’t be around much longer either, my mind whispers cruelly as Stella continues staring at me with concern.
“I’m coming too. It could be something serious, after all,” Jude remarks, grabbing Mina’s hand and pulling her up from the couch so they can follow Marcello back to his office.
“Sure, why not?” Mina shrugs. “Let me just check on Remus and Rolo first. I’m not sure leaving them alone in the gaming room with Kostya and Darius was a good idea.”
“Kostya can handle your cousins,” Jude replies.
“I still say you should have them neutered. The twins would be a delight to spend the holidays with if you just cut off their balls,” Kirill jokes.
“Funny,” Mina laughs. “I’ll remember you said that the next time I have a run-in with your prick of a brother, Sasha. If anyone’s bollocks should be cut off, it’s that wanker’s.”
“I’ll be sure to let him know,” Kirill smirks.
“Guys! Hussle!” Stella claps, grabbing their attention.
“Do you really need to leave?” my mother asks softly. “It’s Christmas Eve.”
“Let them go, bella.” Gio presses a kiss to my mother’s shoulder. “There were plenty of Christmas Eves when we had to leave you and the kids behind to work. Enjoy the fact that the baton’s finally been passed, and now they’re the ones carrying the burden.”
“You’re not helping, stronzo,” Dominic mutters, shooting Gio a disapproving look.
My father, Gio, responds by flipping him off behind my mother’s back.
Honestly, is it any wonder my family is the way it is when our parents still behave like overgrown children half the time?
Then again, they never really had a childhood to begin with.
Nobody born into the Outfit ever does.
I suppose one good thing came from my kidnapping. The Cosa Nostra exposing my parents’ relationship finally gave them the freedom to love each other openly.
No more sneaking around. No more hiding. No more risking their lives in endless mafia wars just to stay together.
They finally got their happily ever after.
Must be nice.
“Anna,” Enzo calls out once most of my siblings have left the living room. “Alejandro and I were just about to watch It’s a Wonderful Life. I remember how much you love that movie. Want to join us? I’ll even make popcorn.” He flashes me a wide smile.
“Maybe tomorrow? I’m not in the mood to watch a movie right now,” I reply, forcing myself to speak when each word feels like glass scraping my throat.
“Raincheck, then.” Enzo smiles, but the worry in his chestnut eyes betrays him.
I lower my head and quietly leave the room, thankful no one tries to stop me. I can only pretend to be half alive for so long before the cracks start showing.
And no one wants to see that.
Especially not on Christmas Eve.
But as I walk down the hallway and begin to pass Marcello’s office, something catches my attention.
A name.
“You have got to be shitting me,” Stella snaps. “Donato must’ve been a cat in a past life because the fucker clearly has nine lives.” She lets out a disgusted exhale.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were getting rusty,” Kirill teases. “Not like you to miss.”
“Bite me, Kill. I never miss.”
“Later, milaya. Let’s help your brother deal with his Cosa Nostra problem first. Then we can play.”
A low growl rumbles through the room, and I instantly know it came from Marcello.
“I think what my husband is trying to say,” Izzie cuts in smoothly, “is that he’d appreciate it if the two of you kept the foreplay to a minimum in his presence.”
“No promises,” Kirill replies unapologetically.
Even without seeing him, I know he probably just winked at my brother.
I’m not usually one to eavesdrop, but curiosity roots me to the spot. Which Donato are they talking about? Raffaele? Niccolò? And when exactly did they try to kill either of them?
They never tell me anything anymore.
Even after I reminded them that Raffaele and Niccolò are my family, too.
Sure, Niccolò always intimidated me, and Raffaele… Well, we’ve seen better days. But they’re still family.
“Can we please move on from Stella and Kirill not being able to stop dry-humping each other for five seconds?” Jude groans. “This is serious. How the hell did he even get into our city? How did nobody see him coming?”
“Oh, my poor sweet na?ve husband,” Mina coos. “Isn’t it obvious?”
When the room falls silent, I clasp a hand over my mouth to keep anyone from hearing me breathe outside the door.
“It’s clear as day. How haven’t you all accepted it by now? The man loves her.” Mina’s voice softens. “Tell me, husband of mine… how far would you go for me? Or you, Marcello? Or you, Kill? Wouldn’t all of you walk straight into enemy territory and risk death itself for the woman you love?”
My heart, which stopped beating weeks ago, suddenly kicks fiercely against my ribs.
No.
It can’t be.
Could he really be—
“Or maybe he just wants to kidnap her again,” Stella cuts in, though uncertainty creeps into her voice.
Hope crashes inside me so violently it nearly steals my breath away.
It’s Raffaele.
That’s who they’re talking about.
My shoulders sag with disappointment, but I still don’t move from the doorway.
If Raffaele is in Chicago, then I want to speak to him.
I need to know how Paolina is doing. I’ve been sick with worry over her mental state.
A mother should never have to lose a child like that.
And like me, Paolina loved Matteo with her whole heart.
“You’re starting to sound like Anna, wife,” Jude mutters tiredly.
“And maybe that’s a good thing, considering it’s obvious this family refuses to read the writing on the wall,” Mina counters, slipping fully into her Boss-of-the-London-Firm voice.
“I know this didn’t happen the way we wanted it to.
I know this bloody mess has only gotten worse with every day the Outfit and the Cosa Nostra continue this war.
But this is the reality we’ve been given.
They love each other. Annamaria and Matteo love each other.
And keeping them apart is downright cruel. ”
This time, my heart doesn’t just beat.
It soars.
I don’t wait to hear another word. I storm into the office like a banshee straight out of hell.
“He’s alive?!” I shout, my voice cracking with fury and disbelief. “Matteo is alive?!”
Every head snaps toward me, my siblings and their partners looking equally ashen and horrified.
“When were you going to tell me?” I demand. “When?!”
“When we thought you could handle it better,” Marcello answers evenly, Izzie still standing quietly beside him, her fingers threaded through his.
“You haven’t exactly been yourself lately,” Jude adds carefully, clearly trying to defuse the situation.
“We just didn’t want to make you suffer more than you already were,” Stella says softly as she rises from Kirill’s lap.
My gaze cuts across every single one of them, disbelief roaring through me.
They knew.
They all knew.
And somehow they still thought they had the right to decide what was best for my life.
My life!
“Where is he?” I ask, my voice low and deadly.
“Anna, I don’t think—” Stella starts, only to fall silent when I level her with a murderous glare.
“I won’t ask again.” My chest heaves in anger. “Where is my husband?”
“He’s being held in the basement of Dad’s club,” Marcello explains, his expression remaining unreadable.
“Then that’s where you’re taking me.” I take a step toward him. “Now.”
Everyone stares at me like I’ve suddenly grown a second head. Everyone except Marcello.
Much like my father, Vincent, my brother remains perfectly calm under pressure. I suppose that’s a necessary trait when you become Capo dei Capi.
But I don’t belong to the Outfit.
I never took the omertà. I never swore loyalty to the famiglia.
The only vows I ever made were to my husband on our wedding day.
And those are the only vows I intend to honor.
Matteo is alive.
Alive.
Which means there’s still hope.
“Take me to my husband,” I demand, my voice leaving no room for argument. “I’ve lived without him long enough.”