Chapter 48 #3
One thing is for sure, letting Matteo go isn’t an option. Too much blood has already been spilled. The Outfit will demand that Matteo be made an example of. And if I refuse to kill him, the other families will use that weakness to challenge my authority.
I’ve only been Capo dei Capi for a matter of weeks, after my father was forced to step down in disgrace. The other heads of families would love nothing more than to see the entire Romano bloodline stripped from power after such a scandal.
The only reason I’m still sitting at the head of the table is because tradition demands it.
Which means I need to prove the Outfit’s faith in me isn’t misplaced.
That I’m a fair Boss.
A just Boss.
But most importantly…that I’m not a weak one.
Which means Matteo must die.
But if he dies, Anna will suffer. And if what Stella is telling me is true, then she’ll end her life before her husband’s body is even cold.
I need to come up with a plan. One that will somehow satisfy both parties involved.
“Where are they now?” I ask, Stella nervously biting at her lip.
“I left them back at the club. Kill and Kostya are standing guard. I told the other soldiers to head home since it’s Christmas Eve and all.”
“Good. That’s very good. We don’t want any more witnesses than necessary.”
“Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” she nods. “So what’s our next step? How are we going to get out of this fucking mess?”
“Right now, we do absolutely nothing,” I state evenly. “Not yet. I need time to think.”
Stella’s eyes sharpen immediately.
“Hate to break it to you, Mar, but time isn’t exactly on our side. Soon, everyone’s going to know we have the Boss of the Cosa Nostra locked up. We’ve got a few hours at best before this blows up in our faces.”
“I’m aware,” I grunt. “Just give me an hour. Two tops.”
“That’s pushing it, brother,” she sighs. “But okay. I’ll see if I can keep the soldiers who were on guard at the club quiet for the time being.”
She pushes herself out of the chair and walks out of the office just as my wife walks in.
Izzie says nothing at first. She simply walks over to me and cups my face in her hands.
“It’s not easy being king, is it?” she murmurs softly, sadness lingering in her eyes.
“Let me guess,” I smirk faintly, brushing my thumb across her lips. “You were eavesdropping on me again?”
“Old habits die hard.” She shrugs with a teasing smile.
“Apparently so.”
I tug gently on her chin and pull her down just enough to kiss her.
“Better. Much better. We needed this,” the voice inside my head whispers, temporarily soothed by my wife’s kiss.
“Yes, we did,” I silently agree before forcing the Devil back into his cage where he belongs.
It’s becoming more natural for me to get my alter to abide by my commands. Dr. Seymour spent years teaching me how to control the darkness inside me. How to keep it chained down until I choose to let it loose.
Most days, I’m the one in control now.
But every once in a while, usually during moments of extreme stress, he still claws his way to the surface just to remind me he never truly disappeared.
And tonight has been one hell of a stressful night.
By the time our kiss breaks apart, I’ve made sure Izzie’s lips are nice and swollen from it.
“Can you ask my father to come to my office?” I murmur against her mouth.
She rewards me with one final sweet kiss before slipping out the door to retrieve my predecessor.
My father, Vincent, walks into my office a minute later and sits on the couch, as far away from what used to be his desk as possible.
I get up from my seat, fold my arms over my chest, and lean against the desk’s edge.
“How can I be of use, son?”
“I need your advice,” I state before telling him all that Stella had told me not a few minutes ago, paired with my own interactions with Matteo.
I can tell the revelation of Matteo’s love for my sister shocks him to his core by the way his expression pales with each word I utter.
“I wish I had known at the time,” he whispers under his breath. “Though your sister did try to tell me once. I was too worried about her safety and well-being to truly believe her. I wish I had.”
“Maybe if you hadn’t kept their marriage a secret from us, we might have figured this out beforehand.”
“The gift of foresight is a wonderful thing, but something I do not possess,” he laments.
“As I’ve said a million times before, I thought I was doing right by our family.
I knew all of my children were already suffering, imagining the worst being done to our Anna.
I didn’t want to plant an even darker nightmare in your minds.
Who knows what kind of reckless choices you all would’ve made out of desperation?
Instead of losing one daughter to the Cosa Nostra, I ran the very real risk of losing all of you to it.
And that, Marcello, was not a risk I was willing to take. ”
I press my lips into a thin line because I see the logic in his assumption.
We already feared what Anna could be going through, but being locked away in some cell and sharing our enemy’s bed are two very different things.
We might have made terrible mistakes that could’ve cost us our lives just to get to her sooner if we thought Matteo was forcing himself on her.
But just because I understand the logic behind my father’s decision to keep such a detail from us doesn’t mean I condone it.
Still, it’s his advice that I need now.
“What would you do in my shoes?”
“You won’t like my answer, son.”
“Tell me anyway.”
He lets out an exhale, his shoulders slumping.
“A good boss needs to put the syndicate above his personal life and affections. Having said that, I’ve never put the Outfit ahead of my family.
Not once. I would help my daughter in any way I could.
But I’m not the Boss now, Marcello. You are.
I know that the crown is heavy, but I also know you’ll make the right decision in the end.
You’re a good man, son. I know that whatever you decide will be with your true family’s best interests at heart. ”
“That isn’t very comforting, Dad,” I frown.
“There’s no room for comfort in this game. Only bloodshed. Just make sure the blood you spill isn’t your own or that of those who matter to you.”
He gets up from the couch and places a hand on my shoulder.
“Be a better king than I ever was, Marcello. You have it in you. You always have.”
And with that, he leaves me alone with my troubled thoughts.
After hours of restless contemplation, I know what must be done, even if it breaks my heart to do it.
Matteo must die.
Even if that means my sweet, kindhearted sister dies with him.
Luciano
“Are you sure about this?” I ask Marcello for the hundredth time as we both stare at the various computer screens in front of us.
“No,” he says flatly.
“Well, that’s not very reassuring,” I grumble, swinging my chair toward him.
“It’s not meant to be,” he mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose as if fighting a migraine.
Or maybe he’s fighting the little voice in his head.
Whatever.
All I care about right now is making sure Marcello doesn’t make a rash decision, one my entire family will have to live with the consequences of later.
“Maybe we should take a minute and really think this shit through.”
“I have, Lucky. This needs to happen. Now, have you and Enzo done everything I asked for?”
Fuck me.
“Yeah,” I mutter, my shoulders slumping. “Enzo and Alejandro already left. They’ll message me when they’re ready to go.”
“Good. That’s good,” he says, pacing the floor.
“Have you told Mamma yet?”
He shakes his head.
“I… I can’t. It’s going to break her heart,” he says somberly.
No shit, Sherlock.
“Then don’t do this. There has to be a better way.”
“You and Enzo are the geniuses of the family. Have you come up with a better plan?” he counters, his tone edged with accusation.
I shake my head.
It’s not for lack of trying. Since Marcello told me this harebrained scheme of his, I’ve been racking my brain trying to help my sister out of this clusterfuck.
I couldn’t give a flying fuck if it pissed off the Outfit or not. I say fuck ‘em. Annamaria is more important to us than those fat, gray-haired bastards ever will be.
But then Marcello explained that if we let Matteo go, the syndicate won’t just turn against him. They’ll turn against all of us. And seeing as my parents’ scandal has already tarnished the Outfit’s reputation, they’d love nothing more than to wipe every Romano off the face of the earth.
And I can’t let that happen. My Frankie is a Romano now. She’d be caught in the eye of the storm too. They’d kill her just for being tied to me. Sure, the Bratva would retaliate, but what good are the Petrovs to us if my girl and I are already dead?
Not only that, but I’ve got Darius to worry about too.
He already carries more than enough scars from being abandoned at a young age.
Frankie and I dying suddenly at the hands of the very syndicate I work for will only push him closer to the Bratva.
And Sasha’s influence over him is already a point of contention between us.
Like hell I’m going to kick the bucket and leave Darius to be raised by Sasha’s psychotic ass.
No. I need to help Marcello win his uphill battle to prove he’s worthy of the throne. And letting Matteo live out a long life with my sister at his side is simply not an option.
Which means my baby sister is shit out of luck.
Fuck.
I hate this fucking life sometimes.
It always manages to turn something good into shit. And in this case, it’s fucking with my sister’s happiness. Just another reason why I’ll never take the omertà. Sure, when I was a kid, that was all I wanted. But I’m a man now, with a family of my own. One that includes a Bratva princess, no less.
The Outfit would always come second to my family, even if it can’t come second to Anna’s now.
My phone vibrates on my desk, a message from Enzo telling me he’s ready to get this show on the road.