by Bree Porter
“Do you have a favourite?” I asked.
“Whichever one makes the most money.” Gabriel mused.
I laughed. “A crowd favourite, I imagine.”
The pace car pulled off the track. Immediately, the race cars began to speed up. I could hear the faint sound of them rumbling as they warmed up around the track.
A green flag waved. The race begun.
Most of the men went up to the windows, peering down. Gabriel excused himself and rose to join the others, eyes greedy as they took in the track.
“Sophia,” Don Piero called. “Come and keep me company. My grandsons are beginning to bore me.”
I rose and joined the small table. Alessandro and Salvatore Jnr were both sitting in front of me, terrifying in their own ways.
“Are you hungry, my dear?” He asked.
“No, thank you. I just ate.”
Alessandro’s eyes cut to me. I could’ve sworn there was a flash of amusement in that dark wild gaze of his. If the Capo gig stopped working out, I truly think Alessandro would have a chance at being a human lie detector.
“Alessandro tells me you have joined the Historical Society.” Don Piero said, grinning. Even cold Salvatore Jnr cracked a sly smile at the mention of my new patronage. To be fair, Salvatore Jnr did not like me. “I’m sure you’ll be a welcomed pretty face.”
I smiled, hiding the anger that grew up my throat. Do not react, I chanted. Do not react, Sophia. Be calm, be pretty, be stupid.
“I hear you also have a love of history, sir. Mayor Salisbury told me all about the fabulous donations to the club. What was it again that he said?” I pretended to think. “Oh, that lovely speakeasy in Little Italy.”
Don Piero’s face paused. “You and the mayor seemed to have struck up quite the friendship.” His tone wasn’t unkind but it was the hardest I had ever heard it.
I could practically hear the rational side of my brain begging me to shut the hell up. I couldn’t once I had opened my mouth.
I caught Alessandro’s gaze and he gave me a warning look.
“I am easily impressed and Mayor Salisbury likes to impress.” I said, backing down. “It’s a shame there is no Fashion Society. I would much of preferred being a patron of that club than the Historical Society.”
Don Piero’s expression smoothed and he gave me another smile. “I am sure you would’ve. Perhaps you should start one.” He flickered his eyes to Alessandro.
Alessandro didn’t look at him. He was just scowling at me.
I took a sip of my lemonade, looking dumb and pretty and full of nothing of substance at all.
“Do you have a favourite car, sir?” I asked, pretending not to notice their sly looks. “Gabriel has no allegiances, he said, but I think sports are much more fun when you can root for someone.”
“I agree.” The Don said.
We spoke about easy topics as the race continued. Don Piero made multiple attempts to try and convince his grandson to join us at Church but Alessandro seemed reluctant. Salvatore Jnr also made vague excuses about not being available every Sunday morning. The Don didn’t back down, but seemed good-natured about the whole debacle.
“That is my time with Sophia, anyway.” Don Piero said. “You should be glad I am there, Alessandro. I spend the entire sermon protecting poor Sophia from male attention.”
Alessandro flickered his eyes to Don Piero, scowling. Oh, I thought, I would hear about this later.
I forced out a laugh. “Sir, you are mistaken. I spend the entire time defending you from the ladies. I can’t even leave you to go to the confession box without having you swarmed.”
“Church woman are a force to be reckoned with.” He mused.
From the look Alessandro was giving me, perhaps I could do with a swarm of Church women.
As soon as we left, Alessandro shoved me up against the concrete wall, caging me in with his body and arms.
“Are you fucking crazy?” He demanded.
“Sir—“ Oscuro tried but Alessandro swung his blinding gaze to him.
“Leave, Oscuro.” Oscuro and Beppe quietly left. Traitors, I thought.
Alessandro cut his dark eyes back to me. The expression in his face made my heart skid. “I asked you a question, wife.”
“Don Piero was lying about the male attention—“
“Not that!” He exploded. “Why the hell were you winding up the Don? Don’t fucking lie to me. All that talk about the speakeasy? What the hell do you know?”
I swallowed harshly. “I was just—“
“Just what?”
“Let me finish my sentence.” I snapped. My anger rose hard and fast, sick of being shoved down and told to behave. “Salisbury mentioned it when I was getting that certificate and looked like he wished he hadn’t. I don’t know anything about it except that Salisbury and your grandfather wanted to keep it a secret.” Alessandro leaned down closer to me, voice deadly. “Why the hell would you bring it up then?”
“Because I’m humiliated!” I tried to keep the hysteria out of my voice but I did a terrible job. “You laughed and chortled—all of you—about that certificate. You had a good chuckle about my first job with the Outfit, didn’t you?”
He said nothing.
“I put up with a lot.” I told him. “I put up with a whole lot. But the one thing I won’t put up with is being degraded.”
Alessandro smiled slowly. There was nothing kind about it. It was the look a predator made when it found a struggling prey in its grasp. “It’s all about image with out, isn’t it?” He inquired darkly.
“That’s my job. I was a representation of my father’s wealth and status, and now I am a representation of your wealth and status.” I hissed. “The fancier my clothes, how beautiful I look, are all attributed to you. When you go to jail, I won’t be allowed to wear makeup. And when you finally kick the bucket, I will wear black for years to mourn your absence.”
I was breathing so hard that my heartbeat was pounding in my ears.
“That is your role.” He said. “And you know what my role is?”
I didn’t trust myself to reply. I think I might’ve just started yelling again.
Alessandro leaned closer, brushing his lips against my ear. Goosebumps shuddered along me. “My job is to protect you.” His quietness was worse than his shouting. “And by stirring up the most powerful man in the Midwest, you have made my job very difficult.”
My heart was pounding. “I am the only woman in the Rocchetti family. Your job was difficult from the get go.”
“Trust me, Sophia,” he murmured. “Don Piero is a much worse creature than anything your nightmares can conceive.”
“And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“What type of creature are you?”
Alessandro didn’t look pleased as he said, “If I told you, you would follow in your predecessor’s footsteps.”
I swallowed.
Everyone knew the violent rumours surrounding the other Rocchetti women. Some had to be made up…but by that same logic, some also had to be true.
“Go home, Sophia. I have some work to do.” He pulled away from, taking his warmth with him. Over his shoulder, he called, “BEPPE!”
Beppe and Oscuro both formed from the darkness. Immediately, their eyes flickered to me.
“She’s fine.” Alessandro snapped. “Oscuro, with Sophia. Beppe, let’s go.”
“Yes, sir.” Beppe said.
Before he left, Alessandro swung his dark eyes to me. He didn’t say anything just gave me a hungry look.
My heart sped up. Do not think about the kiss, I told myself. Do not think about the kiss.
I knew tonight that I would dream about this instance again. Except in my retelling, we wouldn’t fight. Well…maybe a little fight. But instead of him leaving, it would end with us naked against the wall. A wet dream would be a nice change from the usual nightmares that plagued me.
To be fair, since getting pregnant, my dreams had been a l
ot more vivid. I didn’t know if it was the prenatal vitamins I was taking or that growing a baby just made your dreams crazy. I would make a note to ask Dr Parlatore at my next appointment. She was always very patient with my stupid questions.
“The car is this way, ma’am.” Oscuro said.
I followed him quietly.
Before we even reached the car, a familiar voice rang out. “Sophia!”
I turned and saw Don Piero coming towards me. A terrifying-looking bodyguard was close at his heels.
“Don Piero,” I greeted. “Is everything okay? Oscuro and I were just about to leave.”
“I hope you don’t have to go just yet.” The Don said. “I have something I would like to show you.”
My stomach dropped.
Chapter Seventeen
Strangely enough, I felt like a lady.
Don Piero escorted me on his arm, with a gentle hand on top of mine. As we moved like a royal couple throughout the circuit, people darted out of our way or bowed their heads in respect. When I was with Alessandro they avoided us, but everyone wanted to see Don Piero. They didn’t want to get too close but they wanted to see.
The Don didn’t lead me to the box or even to the track. Instead we left the arena altogether and headed towards a flock of warehouses out the back. High barbed fences surrounded the buildings, and large KEEP OUT signs were posted. This area would’ve been used to store cars, trucks and whatever else the track might need.
The sky was dark now, the sun having fallen while the race ran, and the temperature had dropped. I shivered, but I don’t think it was because of the cold.
Gravel crunched beneath our feet as we closed in on the largest warehouse.
We reached a door which blended into the wall. Don Piero pressed down on the handle, but before he opened the door, he turned to me. I thought he was going to say something but instead he just gave me a unreadable look and then swung the door open.
I could hear the sounds of men yelling and numbers being thrown around. It was lit by dusty industrial lights hanging from the ceiling and there was a distinct smell of oil.
But none of that would’ve prepared me for what was actually happening.
Huge trucks took up most of the space, with men milling around them. They looked to be trucks that moved race cars around the country, but instead of stock cars loaded up in the back, there was crates on crates. I didn’t have to look far to figure out what was in the crates.
I peered into an open crate near me. Stacks and stacks of plastic-wrapped packages were piled on top of each other, ready to be shipped out.
All I could think was: If Cat had seen this, she would’ve gone absolutely ballistic.
Don Piero led me further into the warehouse. “Drugs, my dear.” He said.
“You use the Circuit as a cover.” I wasn’t surprised. Every business the Outfit was owned was used as a cover for illegal acts. But to see it in person?
I didn’t ask questions when Papa gave me my allowance and I certainly didn’t ask Alessandro where the money for the penthouse came from. I knew, they knew I knew, but it went unsaid. After all, my role in the Outfit was very different to theirs.
And yet, Don Piero had given me a front row seat. Women could be married to a Made Man for fifty years and never see this side of business.
I looked at Don Piero. “Why have you shown me this?” I asked, quietly.
He flicked his dark eyes to me. “It has been a long time since we had someone new in the family.”
“You’re showing off?”
His weathered smile brightened in amusement. “Aren’t we men always showing off?”
I tried to smile but couldn’t manage it.
“I heard a rumour that my grandson got into a fight with his father-in-law.” Don Piero said. “Is that true?”
“You’ll have to ask Alessandro.”
Don Piero looked at me. There was something ancient about his expression. He was a man who had lived through a lot and had done a lot. I could see it in his old eyes now. The years of fighting and killing and power struggles. But also the years of success and prosperity.
“I had hoped you wouldn’t like him enough to protect his secrets when you got married.” Don Piero said candidly.
I just smiled. “My apologies.”
He ignored this and instead spread a welcoming hand. “Come. Let me introduce you to everyone.”
Don Piero played a wonderful host as he introduced me to his men. I knew almost everyone from growing up in the Outfit, but I knew them as loving uncles or annoying cousins. Not as soldati. Even handsome Gabriel was there, overlooking a shipment with a harsh expression. Not the same Gabriel I had had drinks with earlier today.
When he had finished introducing me to his Underboss, Davide Genovese, I leaned into his ear and murmured, “Why have you really brought me here?”
Don Piero smelt of tobacco up close. The smell made me feel ill as he said, “To answer a question of mine.” Don Piero stretched up a hand and yelled, “Alessandro, look what I brought you!”
I spotted Alessandro the same moment he snapped his head up. He was inside one of the trucks, supervising the crates and their placement. The moment he saw me—and trust me, dressed in pink and white, I stood out amongst this crowd—he strode to the edge of the truck and swung out like Tarzan.
“What is she doing here?” Alessandro growled.
Don Piero looked like he had his answer. I was too terrified to even contemplate what the question had been.
“I’m showing her around.” Don Piero said.
Alessandro tugged me out of the Don’s arm and towards him. I regained my footing quickly, if I hadn’t, I would’ve gone straight into his chest. He looked down at me, eyes locked, before yanking me to his side. I faced Don Piero now, flushed and disheveled.
“I don’t go around disrespecting Nicoletta and I would appreciate you to extend me the same courtesy.” He snarled.
Don Piero stood straighter, waving off the aura of a charming grandfather and forming into the patriarch of the Rocchetti Family. “Careful, Alessandro.” He warned. “I would hate for us to get into a fight about something so trivial.”
“Don’t be coy, grandfather.” Warned Alessandro. It felt nice not to be the one Alessandro was saying that to for once. “Sophia shouldn’t be here.”
I glanced at him. Why had he said it like that?
Don Piero just smiled. “This is the only place she should be.”
Something was going on here. I could see it in their postures and hear it in their tones. Perhaps there was a power struggle or a business deal gone wrong. Either way, I doubted my presence was the true reason for the extent of Alessandro’s anger. I had been the rabbit used to draw the lion out of the cage.
“I should go.” I said softly. “Polpetto will need his dinner.”
They both looked at me. Alessandro nodded curtly, “Yes, you should go.” He waved a hand over my head. “Oscuro will take you home. As he already should’ve done.”
“I will be sad to see you go, Sophia.” Don Piero said. “Although, I hope you feel better.”
I tensed.
Alessandro turned his head to me. I doubt he was pleased to find out his wife’s business from someone else.
“The bodyguards said you were ill this afternoon and you barely ate anything, my dear.” The Don feigned concern.
I swallowed against my harsh throat. “I undercooked my dinner last night. Embarrassing, but I am feeling much better. Thank you for your concern, sir.” “If you feel so sick, my dear, you shouldn’t leave the house.” Don Piero flickered his eyes to Alessandro. “You shouldn’t be dragging around your poisoned wife, Alessandro.”
Alessandro’s stare burned my skin. “If Sophia felt she was fine to leave the house, I’m sure she was.” He turned his head back to his grandfather. I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. “Is that all?”
Don Piero didn’t shudder at his grandson’s terrifying expression. “For
now.”
Alessandro pressed a hand to my back and pushed my lightly. I took the hint. I had to physically restrain myself from running screaming to the exit. That wouldn’t go over well.
Before I could escape, a figure formed from the darkness and stepped towards us. My stomach twisted itself into knots.
“Nero,” Alessandro greeted. “I want to hear about your mission once I’ve dealt with this.”
I couldn’t even be angry that Alessandro had made me sound like little more than a piece of dog shit on his shoe that he had to scrap off. All my attention had directed itself onto the man that stood before us, the darkness surrounding him, shielding away all light.
Like Gabriel, Nero was infamous. Though not for his conquests. Nero was one of the Outfit’s assassins, and by far the deadliest. I had never met him, never spoken to him. He was not at family events and Papa had never dared invite him to our house. The brief times I had seen him in passing, Papa had always gripped my shoulder and drawn me away.
The fact that our paths had never crossed had not stopped me from hearing about his reputation. The blood he spilt was whispered about, the stories about him feeding a man his own balls were kept hushed up. Even the Christmas he showed up at Don Piero’s and rolled the head of Brian Gallagher across the table—over the turkey and eggnog—were spoken about quietly and always in private.
And now to see him in person, not five feet away…I seriously felt I might faint.
“Sir.” Nero said in answer. His eyes fell to me, and something akin to curiosity filled them.
Alessandro’s hand on my back tightened. “Now, Nero.”
To my utter surprise, Nero bowed his head and headed towards Gabriel.
I looked back at my husband. If a man like that listened to him, who else obeyed his authority?
Oscuro, Beppe, Gabriel, Sergio and now Nero all flashed through my mind. Bodyguards, underboss, enforcer and assassin.
