King of Souls

by L A Cotton

  “Luis?” I asked, hesitating.

  “This is Jay,” he replied.

  “Hey, Jay.” Nora slipped around me and climbed inside. “I’m Arianne’s best one, Nora.”

  He didn’t reply.

  Luis leaned in. “It’s okay, you can trust him. He’s a friend.”

  My brows furrowed. Surely, he didn’t mean what I thought he meant.

  “You mean he’s—”

  Luis silenced me with a knowing look. “We need more eyes and ears. This is a good thing, I promise.”

  “Okay.” I got inside.

  “So what’s the plan?” Nora asked the second Luis hopped into the passenger side.

  “You’ll see,” he said cryptically.

  Nora caught my eye and waggled her brows. Trust her to be excited by the prospect of an adventure. I couldn’t find it in myself to share her enthusiasm. Because although I was excited to be seeing Alessia, I didn’t want to put her at risk.

  “Hey, don’t do that.” Nora frowned, grabbing my hand. “Don’t always assume the worst. Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”

  We took the road out of Romany Square toward La Riva. My heart beat wildly in my chest as I watched the landscape change, but we didn’t stop. The new guy kept driving, taking the road toward Providence, until the familiar landscape of Nicco’s neighborhood became nothing but trees and shadows.

  After ten minutes, we turned off the main road, taking a dirt track to nowhere. The dense canopy of trees made everything eerie; their dark, twisted fingers scratching against the windows and roof of the vehicle. Eventually, the thicket started to clear, giving way to a cabin.

  “What is this place?” I asked no one in particular, as my eyes strained against the darkness.

  “You’ll see.”

  The SUV rolled to a stop alongside a truck, and Luis unclipped his belt. “Wait here.” He climbed out and made his way toward the cabin. After a couple of seconds, the door opened, and Matteo stepped onto the porch. My shoulders sagged with relief.

  They discussed something before making their way back to us. Luis yanked open the door and Nora wasted no time getting out. I hesitated though.

  Matteo stuck his head inside. “Going to sit in here all night?”

  Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. Matteo chuckled, offering me his hand. “Come on, I don’t bite.” He helped me out.

  “What is this place?” I asked.

  “It’s a family hideaway. We have a few places like this in and around Verona County. We should go inside. I know there’s someone dying to see you.”

  I didn’t get chance to respond. A whirlwind of blonde flew out of the cabin and down the steps. “You’re here,” Alessia shrieked, launching herself into my arms. I hugged her back, laughing softly.

  “I’ve been so worried,” she whispered.

  “One rule, Sia,” a deep voice said. My gaze lifted to find Enzo in the door, cold glare right on me. “Stay in the damn cabin.”

  “Lighten up, E, we’re safe out here.” Alessia poked her tongue out at him but Enzo was no longer looking at her. He was staring right at Nora.

  “You didn’t say she was bringing her.”

  “I have a name, douchebag.” She marched right up to him, shouldered past him and slipped into the cabin.

  “What?” Matteo chuckled, clearly amused. “You didn’t have to come.”

  “Yeah,” Enzo growled. “I did.” He spun around and disappeared inside.

  “This should be fun.” Laughter rumbled in Matteo’s chest. “Come on, we’ll give you the tour.”

  Alessia pressed herself into my side. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  It should have felt weird or overfamiliar, but it didn’t. It felt nice.

  It felt right.

  It felt like something was shifting, like I had finally found my place.

  “We’ll be right outside.” Luis gave me a reassuring nod. “This place is off the grid, but we’ve got it covered. You’re safe here.”

  “He’s not wrong,” Matteo added. “We won’t let anything happen to you, Arianne, I promise.”

  “Yeah, you’re one of us now.” Alessia smiled. “And we protect our own.”

  Chapter 9

  Nicco

  “How do you do this day in, day out?” I asked Tommy, drumming my fingers against my thigh.

  We’d been at it all day. Staking out the address he’d found. It was tedious fucking work, but Tommy seemed to like it.

  “I like the solitude... and I like people-watching.”

  Yeah, that wasn’t creepy at all.

  “I don’t see why we can’t just go knock on the door and talk to her.”

  Elizabeth Monroe.

  Seventy-five-year-old widow. Born and raised in Montpelier, Vermont. But she hadn’t always been a Monroe. She had, in fact, been born Elizabeth Ricci, and was Mike Fascini’s auntie. The only remaining Ricci in Vermont according to Tommy’s findings.

  “Hey, who’s that?” I flicked my head to the young girl entering the house. She looked to be my age, maybe a couple years younger.

  Tommy ran his hand down the notebook, flipped a page and jabbed his finger at the thing. “She has a granddaughter. Charlotte Monroe. It could be her.”

  “A granddaughter? You didn’t say anything about family.”

  “It’s just her and Charlotte. She’s a freshman at the college in Burlington.” He shrugged, lighting up a smoke.

  “Do you mind?” I raised a brow. “Those things will kill ya.”

  “I already got a one-way ticket to hell, kid. Might as well enjoy the ride.” He took a long drag, cracked the window and exhaled the smoke outside.

  I cracked my own window, breathing in some fresh air. It was a little after six. Arianne would have finished her shift at the VCTI which meant Luis was driving her and Nora out to the cabin to meet Alessia.

  God, I wanted to be there. I wanted to see her so fucking badly. But instead, I was stuck here with Tommy, breathing in his secondhand smoke and staking out an old woman’s house.

  “She hasn’t left the house all day. She isn’t a threat,” I said, growing impatient.

  “She isn’t a threat, but we don’t know that Fascini hasn’t got eyes on her.”

  “You said Michael Fascini left Vermont before Mike was born.”

  “According to records, they arrived in Verona County in the seventies. But we still can’t take any chances.”

  Letting out a frustrated breath, I raked a hand through my hair. “So what? We’re going to just sit here all night?” It had already been hours.

  “We wait for the girl to leave, then you go in.”

  “Me?”

  “It’s gotta be you, Nicco. Look at me, I’m not exactly grandma friendly.”

  Tommy had a point. The ugly jagged scar that ran from his left eye down to his jaw gave him a permanently angry expression. Which was ironic given that he was one of the best people I knew. But if Elizabeth Monroe saw Tommy standing on her doorstep, chances were, he wasn’t going to get an invitation inside.

  “Everything I dug up suggests Elizabeth and her brother were estranged. But the paper trail doesn’t always paint the whole picture.”

  The door opened and the girl appeared. Elizabeth hovered in the door. She looked frail for seventy-five. They hugged and the girl kissed her grandma’s cheeks before taking off down the sidewalk.

  “Okay, you’re up. You ready for this?”

  “Talking to an old lady?” It was a piece of cake compared to some of the stuff we had to do.

  “You packing? Just in case.”

  “Seriously?”

  “If I’ve learned anything working for the Family, it’s that you can never be too sure, about anyone or anything. I’ll be close by.” Tommy gave me a nod, and I slipped out of the car.

  Cutting across the street, I jammed my hands in my pockets. The sun was just beginning to disappear on the horizon, dusk blanketing the neighborhood. I had no idea what I was
going to say but the need to know the truth—to uncover the details of what led us to this point—sat heavy on my chest.

  She lived in a small bungalow, a far cry from the huge place the Fascini owned in Roccaforte. Climbing the porch, I rapped my knuckles against the outer door. Nervous energy reverberated through me, which was fucking stupid. I didn’t know this woman. She was no one to me.

  No one.

  And yet, she was.

  If things had been different, she would have been family.

  Maybe not by blood but her brother would have been.

  It was some screwed-up shit.

  A shuffle behind the door demanded my attention and then it cracked open, the fly screen separating us. “Yes?”

  “Mrs. Monroe?”

  “Who’s asking?” she said in a soft Italian accent.

  “My name is Niccolò. Niccolò Marchetti.” I was already going against Tommy’s advice, but something compelled me to the speak the truth.

  “Marchetti, you say.” She narrowed her eyes, her skin crinkled and tired. “I haven’t heard that name in a very long time.”

  “I was hoping you can help me, Ma’am.”

  “Let me guess, that nephew of mine is causing all kinds of trouble?”

  My spine stiffened.

  She knew.

  The old lady knew why I was here.

  “I’ve been waiting for one of you to show up, you know. Didn’t think it would take this long. You alone? Actually,” she held up a finger. “Don’t answer that. I know how you people work. Come on inside.”

  Elizabeth opened her door and stepped aside. I opened the screen and followed her inside. “I hope you like tea,” she called. “I just made a fresh pot.”

  “Tea’s fine.”

  “Well go on through there and take a seat, I’ll just be a second.” She motioned to the living room. It was a modest room, full of work furniture, every available surface littered with trinkets and photographs. I spotted the girl from earlier, her granddaughter, in most of them. But it was the one on the mantle above the fireplace that caught my eye. It was like staring at an older version of Scott Fascini. Same square jawline, same cocksure smirk. Except the photograph was an old faded black and white print.

  “That’s my brother, Michael.” Elizabeth placed down a tray of tea and moved beside me, plucking the silver-framed photo off the shelf. “But you already know that, don’t you?” She gave me a knowing glance. “Come, sit. I’m sure we have much to talk about.

  “You keep talking like you’ve been waiting for this. I expected you to be more...”

  “Unwilling to talk? No, I have been waiting for this moment to arrive. The past always catches up with you eventually, does it not? I am an old lady now, so I make every second count. Is he... dead?” Elizabeth deadpanned as she poured the tea.

  “You didn’t know?” According to Tommy, Michael Fascini had died almost twenty years ago.

  “I haven’t seen or heard from Michael since the day he left Vermont on his crusade.”

  “Crusade?”

  “I’ll never forget the day he found out the truth. Our mom never talked about his father growing up. We knew we had different fathers, but it didn’t matter, not to me. I idolized my big brother. Even as a young boy he was strong and loyal. He doted on our mom something fierce. I think it’s the reason she never found anyone else, because she feared what Michael would do.

  “I was seven when she finally told him. Michael had just turned eleven. I remember because it was a bad winter and we were snowed in for days. He’d been asking more and more questions about his father and I guess she felt it was time he knew the truth.”

  Elizabeth gazed out at nothing, her eyes clouded with the pain of the past. “Everything was different after that. Michael became obsessed with learning all about the Marchetti and Capizola. He became withdrawn, started fighting and getting into trouble at school. Mom was beside herself. I knew she regretted telling him the truth, but it was too late.”

  “She told you what had happened too?”

  “Not at first, no. They both kept some things to themselves. But when she got sick, she confessed everything. How she and Emilio had sparked the chain of events that led you to be sitting here today.”

  “Your nephew has threatened someone I care about.”

  She let out a heavy sigh. “I had hoped he would break the cycle.”

  “You knew? You knew he would come after us?”

  “You have to understand, Nicco... may I call you Nicco?” I nodded and she smiled. “Our mother fled to Vermont with nothing but the clothes on her back. When Michael discovered the truth about his father, and his murder, it left a mark on his soul. A mark that, as he grew, festered into something bigger. Something malevolent. When he met Miranda, I had hoped she would be able to bring him out of the darkness. And for a little while, she did. But when they announced their move to Verona County, I knew what he was doing.

  “I begged him not to go. Miranda was pregnant and she didn’t know the whole story. She thought he wanted to make a better life for them. I could have told her... I should have told, but I still hoped...”

  I let out a strained breath.

  It was true.

  It was all true.

  Mike Fascini was Elena Ricci and Emilio Marchetti’s grandson. He was my grandfather’s cousin.

  He was my family.

  “Nicco?”

  “Y- yeah?” I scrubbed my jaw, trying to wrap my head around everything.

  “Just tell me, has Michael Junior hurt anyone?”

  “Not yet, no. But his son—”

  “A son? He has a son?”

  “You didn’t know?”

  “I did not. My granddaughter is all I have left.”

  “What about your husband’s family?”

  “Kenny, God rest his soul, was an only child. There is only me and Charlotte left. Her parents, my daughter and son-in-law, they died in a car accident a few years ago.”

  “She lives with you?”

  “She did.” The old woman smiled fondly. “She recently moved to Burlington for college. I’ve made my peace with the past, Niccolò, but Michael never could. I knew him moving to Verona County would mean only one thing. I’m just sorry to hear his thirst for revenge has been passed down to Mike Junior.”

  “So it is about revenge?” I sat forward, clasping my hands between my legs. Elizabeth had been an open book. I didn’t know what I’d expected when she opened the door, but it wasn’t this.

  “I can’t claim to know what my nephew thinks or why he does the things he does. But I knew my brother. I looked into his eyes and saw the secrets of his soul. And that man was fueled by grief and rage. The Ricci were supposed to be one of the great families of Verona County. Instead, we became nothing. What lengths would you go to for the woman who gave you life, Niccolò?”

  “My mother is gone,” I said flatly, feeling pain snake around my heart.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you have siblings?”

  I nodded. “A sister.”

  “And what lengths would you go to in order to protect her? To right any wrong befallen on her? I don’t justify my brother’s actions, but I can understand them. His father was murdered because he loved the wrong woman. I understand your ways, your code... but love knows no bounds, Nicco. It doesn’t adhere to codes or laws or morals... sometimes it just is.”

  I couldn’t argue with her.

  I had fallen hopelessly in love with Arianne. Even after I discovered her true identity, I couldn’t stop myself. Our souls were bound. And I couldn’t help but think history was reliving itself. Only this time, it wasn’t a Ricci and Marchetti breaking the rules.

  “What is it?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Do you understand why I came here?”

  “For answers... for the truth.”

  “And do you know what I have to do with this information? What it means?”

  “I do.” Her expression softened. “Like I said, Nicco, I h
ave long made peace with things. But it was different for Michael. Our mother gave him her name to protect him. But it only fed his obsession for vengeance. My brother wanted only one thing in life, Niccolò.”

  “Yeah? And what’s that?”

  “To take everything from the people who took everything from our mother.” She looked me dead in the eye, and for the first time since coming here, I felt the invisible line between us. “To make the Marchetti and Capizola pay.”

  “THAT’S SOME HEAVY SHIT, kid,” Tommy said as we sat in the bar. “So Fascini is like your distant cousin?”

  “Something like that.” I ran my thumb around the neck of the bottle.

  Tommy wanted to break out the hard liquor, but I knew if I let myself indulge, it would be a one-way street to doing or saying something I would regret.

  He was family.

  Marchetti blood flowed through Scott’s veins.

  It didn’t change a thing.

  And yet, it changed every-fucking-thing.

  The sins of our forefathers had led us to this point, and now, it seemed we were the ones paying the price.

  “Do you think he knows?”

  “Who, Scott?” My jaw clenched, his name like acid on my tongue. “He has to, doesn’t he? No one can be that twisted without some serious trauma in their lives.”

  Tommy shrugged, draining his beer. He slammed it down on the table and let out a heavy sigh. “Some people are just messed up. Maybe he knows, maybe he doesn’t, maybe it’s just in his blood... but he’s the enemy, Nicco. Don’t forget that.”

  “Forget... you think I could ever forget what he did to Arianne?” I seethed. “I will never forget.” It was imprinted on my mind, engraved on every fiber of my being.

  “Good.” Tommy nodded. “A shitstorm is coming. I’ve known men like Mike Fascini in my lifetime. Men so blinded by the need for vengeance that it destroys who they are. He won’t stop. There’s only one way this thing ends.”

  He was right.

  Michael Fascini had moved his family to Verona County with one sole purpose in mind: to destroy Arianne’s family.

  To destroy my family.

  Even Elizabeth had resigned herself to the outcome.