We were almost home when Paulie said, “You better not think of leaving, kid. Your dad had to put one of his businesses up as collateral.”
I shrugged, staring out the window at the cars on the highway. “I can’t make any promises.”
He grunted but didn’t speak another word.
There was no winning when I was in this kind of mood. And I no longer cared about my father or his businesses. As far as I was concerned, we were done. He was a traitor, a fucking rat I would never trust again.
Instead of dropping me off at my house, Paulie drove straight to my father’s villa, where everyone was waiting for me. Nino was on the couch in the living room next to my mother and Alessio was on the opposite side of the coffee table next to my dad.
“Are we having a family reunion I didn’t know about?” I asked them.
Ma jumped off the couch and came rushing into my arms. “Stephan, you had me worried sick.”
I wrapped my arms around her. “I’m okay, Ma. They just asked me some questions. Nothing to worry about.”
What a lie. I was going to prison for the better part of my life if I didn’t act right away. No matter how much I didn’t want to leave my mother and Nino, I didn’t have a choice.
Over her shoulder, I spotted my father shooting me a nasty look. No surprise. I knew he’d be angry with me, but at the time I made the decision to fuck with Senator Parisi, I didn’t care. I still didn’t give a shit.
“I need to speak with you,” my father said to me. “Alone.” His voice boomed when he said the last part.
My mother’s tears wet the sleeve of my shirt, and as I released her from my grip, I wiped them away from her cheeks. “It will be okay,” I promised.
In time, it would be, everything would work out. But I had to get over a few hurdles before I could begin planning my new life.
After my mother left the room, Nino and Alessio stayed behind, assuming they would be included in the discussion.
“Give me a few minutes with Stephan,” my dad told them.
Nino cupped my shoulder and pulled me into a hug. “I hope you gave them hell.”
I smiled for the first time in days. “You know it.”
Alessio patted me on the back as if I’d done the right thing. We never spoke much, not unless it was to fight about something. I was always at odds with my older brother, and now that I knew my father’s secret, it only made me resent Alessio more. He was the reason our father became a turncoat.
“I warned you to stay away from the Parisi family,” my father said once we were alone. “You just couldn’t listen, could you?”
“I heard you,” I spat back. “I chose not to listen.”
“That girl will ruin this family. Is that what you want?”
I sat on the couch across from my father, with a long oak table separating us. Resting my elbow on the arm, I glared at him. “You’ve already ruined this family… and any chance of me being a part of it.”
He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I told you that in confidence. To help convince you to do the right thing for this family.”
I snorted. “Well, your plan backfired.”
“What did you tell the Feds?”
“Nothing.”
“Isabella Parisi is missing. Did you have anything to do with her disappearance?”
“Why does everyone assume it was me?”
“Don’t answer a question with a question, Stephan. Where is the girl?”
I shrugged against the plush fabric, sinking further into the cushions. It had been days since I’d last slept. The only thing I wanted was a hot shower and a bed. Talking to my father was the last thing on my list.
“I don’t know. Maybe you should ask Senator Parisi. He’s the one who’s content on locking her up for the rest of her life.”
“He had nothing to do with it. If he did, he wouldn’t have come to see me, begging to get her back.”
“Has he considered the possibility that she ran away? That maybe she doesn’t want to be found. No one should have to live the way she does.”
“That’s not for you to decide, Stephan.” He gritted his teeth, looking away from me. “If you know where she’s hiding, you better tell me. No more games.”
“I wish I knew. But I don’t have any information that can help you.”
It was the truth.
“I don’t believe that for one second.”
Pushing myself up from the couch, I let out a frustrated groan. “I need to get some sleep.”
“Nino can drive you home. In the morning, I expect you to give me some answers. You know more than you are letting on.”
“Think what you want.”
He waved his hand to dismiss me, ending the conversation.
In the kitchen, I found Nino sitting on top of the counter, eating a bowl of meatball soup. Slurping loudly, he shoveled another spoonful in his mouth, and then glanced up at me.
“Can you take me home when you’re done?”
“Yeah,” he said, with his mouth full of food. “Give me a sec.”
I pulled out a chair from the small table and sat down. “Did you meet with Bruno?”
He nodded.
“Did he talk to Grandpa Sal?”
Nino set the empty bowl on the counter and hopped down from it. “I took care of it. Put two bullets in the back of Joe Rizzoli’s head. He won’t be a problem for us anymore.”
“Do you even know why you had to kill him?”
He gave me a confused look as if it were a trick question. “Because he went against the family.”
“It goes much deeper than that.”
“What are you not telling me?”
“Outside,” I said, my voice almost a whisper.
His eyes told me he understood, and he didn’t speak until we were in his car. “What’s going on?”
“There’s something Dad has been hiding from us for years.”
He drove off the property, through the high wrought iron gates, and down the empty street. “Like what?”
“Dad’s a rat. Rizzoli somehow found out we had someone on the inside informing to the Feds. I don’t think he knew it was Dad, but—”
Nino pulled the car over to the side of the road. His breathing was labored, his voice muffled when he spoke. “Dad’s a rat? No… that’s not… possible.”
“I felt the same way when he first told me.”
“Betrayed,” he shot back.
I nodded. “Like everything we’ve ever done for him was a lie. That everything he’s ever told us was a lie.”
“Why? It doesn’t make any sense? He wouldn’t do this to us.”
I filled him in about Alessio’s arrest and why our father became an informant. No matter how many times I told him the story, he still didn’t want to believe me.
“It’s true,” I confessed. “I’m getting out of here. I can’t work for Dad anymore. You should come with me.”
He looked at me with pain in his eyes. “Where?”
“Italy. We can work for the family in Calabria.”
“Does Dad know?”
“No. And you can’t tell him.”
Nino seemed irritated but not opposed to the idea. “You don’t have a passport. How are you getting there?”
“Damon’s going to hook me up. He can do the same for you if you want to come with me.”
“That’s why you wanted me to call him for you.”
“I want you to come with me,” I admitted. “It won’t be the same without you.”
Nino was my twin, and without him, a part of me would have been missing. I needed him to agree to this, to see things my way. Whether he realized it or not, I was doing him a favor. We could have a better life in Italy.
He scratched the dark stubble along his jaw. “When are you leaving?”
“I don’t know yet. I have to drive to Atlantic City to see Damon. He could tell me I have to be ready in ten minutes for all I know. Depends on how soon another shipment is leaving.”
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“You should get some sleep first.” Nino shifted the car back into gear and pulled onto the dark street. “I need some time to think about it.”
As we drove back to our house in silence, I hoped he would consider my offer. I couldn’t imagine my life without Nino in it.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Isabella
I nibbled on a piece of crusty Italian bread, careful not to eat too fast. After what seemed like days without food, my stomach churned with each bite I took. The pain digging into my stomach like a knife slowly subsided.
“Do you have something I can drink other than wine?” I asked the man sitting across from me. “It’s delicious, but I could use a glass of water.”
He glanced over his shoulder at a man by the long, oak bar and muttered something so fast in Italian I didn’t catch all of it. The man did as he was told, pouring each of us a glass of water from the pitcher he left for us at the center of the table.
I wrapped both hands around the glass and drank it in two gulps. When I set it on the table, the bartender filled it again. Liquid ran down my lips, which I licked away, my thirst still not satiated. I wiped the excess from my chin, and as I did, the scary Italian man across from me smiled. Well, he wasn’t all that frightening. His rugged good looks and killer smirk made it hard not to find him attractive.
But he was a murderer. I could see it in his eyes. He was like Stephan and his brothers. The same look from Stephan never frightened me. It excited me. I knew there was a monster inside him that wanted to claim me, hurt me, and I didn’t care about the risk. Except Stephan was never that way with me. He’d always shown me the softest parts of himself while exposing me to his darkness.
Sometimes, he smothered me with it, and I welcomed it every time. I breathed in his anger and frustration, allowing him to swallow me whole. Every inch of my body craved him, always did. And that fact would never change. Being on this boat, alone and afraid, only made me miss Stephan more. He could handle the man across the table from me.
“My apologies for my men. They had you confused with someone else.” His thick accent reminded me so much of Carmella.
My heart pounded against my ribcage at the thought of her. I hoped she was okay and that the men who wanted me didn’t hurt her.
I pushed the plate of food away from me and sat back in the chair, soaking in the warmth of the comfy cushions. “Who are you?”
“Domenic DeLuca.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “DeLuca?”
He nodded. “Yes. Stephan arranged for you to be here.”
“You said your men mixed me up with someone else. Does that mean you’re holding another woman against her will on this boat?”
His expression turned serious and dark. “What takes place on this boat is none of your business, Isabella. If you’re going to be part of this family, you have to stop asking questions.”
What Stephan and I had was forever. At some point, I would become part of the DeLuca family. But I’d never given it much thought, mostly because I wasn’t sure how long we’d be together with my father constantly interfering with my life.
“One more question. It’s important. Is Stephan still in jail?”
He shook his head, and I let out the breath of air I was holding. “We have another week until we reach Calabria. I suggest you rest up.” He scanned my dirty clothes and ratty hair and continued, “Perhaps a shower, too. You need to look presentable when you meet the boss.” I narrowed my eyes at him, and he added, “Stephan’s grandfather, Salvatore DeLuca.”
“I thought he was retired.”
He removed a pack of cigarettes from the inside of his jacket pocket. “His eldest son handles the day-to-day business, but Salvatore is the head of this family.”
“Does he know about my situation? About my father?”
If we would someday be family, I wanted to make a good first impression. But the issues Stephan had with my father only complicated things.
“He’s well aware. Your father is being handled.”
The way he said the last word sent a tremor down my spine. I was told not to ask questions, and so I kept my mouth shut. Did I care whether my father lived or died? No, not at all. He was a horrible man who destroyed everyone in his path. Whatever retaliation he would face from Stephan’s family was on him. And he would deserve it.
The door behind me opened, and two sets of footsteps moved toward us. Dominic’s face brightened, and when I heard Carmella say my name from behind me, I jumped up from the chair.
I pushed the man at her side out of the way and hugged her with every ounce of energy I had left in my tired body. She was washed and dressed as if she’d been treated with care.
“Carm,” I whispered, my voice turning into a soft sob. “You’re here. Oh, my God, I was so worried about you. I was afraid you were hurt or dead.”
I lifted my head from her shoulder, and she stroked my cheek with her fingers. “I’d never leave you,” she lilted.
Squeezing her against my chest, I took in the scent of her perfume and allowed it to fill my nostrils. Carmella was here. With me. And soon, if everything worked out, Stephan would be with me, too. It was almost too good to be true.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Stephan
“Are you sure you want to do this?” My cousin, Damon, asked me first, and I said yes without hesitation.
Like Nino and me, Damon was tall, with black wavy hair, olive skin, and around the same build. Most of the men on our father’s side of the family looked like Grandpa Sal.
After thinking over our father’s deception, my brother agreed to come with me to Italy. Together, we could start a new life with Isabella and our Calabrian family.
Damon’s gaze shifted to Nino. “You going, too?”
Nino took a sip from his glass of scotch and nodded. “How soon do we leave?”
“I have a ship arriving in Boston in the morning. You’d have to leave in the next few hours if you want to make it in time. It’s not the same accommodations as last time.”
He was referring to the boat Isabella was on with Carmella.
“That’s fine.” I set my scotch on the table between us. “I don’t care if we have to sleep in the engine room. Just get us out of the country. When will Isabella be in Calabria?”
“In a few days.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s on Grandpa Sal’s yacht. Dom is taking care of her.”
I gave him a sideways look, wondering what that meant. But I didn’t bother to ask. Dom was my cousin, one of my grandfather’s most trusted men, and loyal to the family. Unlike my father. I still couldn’t get over the fact he was a rat. At least with Dom, Isabella was safe. I knew he would take care of her and keep his hands to himself.
“What about the Senator?”
He scratched the corner of his jaw, a smirk slowly forming on his face. “My men picked him up earlier. Want to see him?”
A smile turned up the corners of my mouth. “As if you even had to ask.”
Damon finished off the amber liquid in his glass and set it on the table as he rose to his feet. “What do you want me to do with him?”
“Slit his fucking throat,” Nino said.
“No,” I shot back. “Death is too easy. He deserves to have everything taken from him piece by piece.”
Damon’s hazel eyes gleamed under the lights in his dark club. “What do you have in mind?”
“I need a confession first.”
Damon buttoned his suit jacket. “Torture, then?”
I nodded.
Nino rubbed his hands together with a creepy grin.
After all the years of being forced to do Senator Parisi’s dirty work, Nino was more than ready to take this motherfucker down. He deserved much worse than what I had planned. But we had a short window before we had to leave for Boston.
I grinned so fucking much my face hurt. Senator Parisi was strung up in the basement of Damon’s club by his ankles, without a shirt, and
his hands tied behind his back. A handkerchief covered his mouth. Tears streamed down his reddened cheeks. He tried to scream when he looked at me, his dark eyes full of hatred. The more he tried to kick and shake free from his shackles, the more energy he wasted. He wasn’t going anywhere.
Even when I had control over this man, he still couldn’t stop fighting. At least he wasn’t a fucking pussy. I had to give him that. Most men would have crumbled in this situation, maybe even begged for mercy. But not Senator Robert Parisi. He still thought he was invincible.
Standing in front of him, with a wicked smirk plastered on my face, I tugged the fabric away from his mouth.
“Let me down, you piece of shit,” he yelled.
I crossed my arms over my chest and laughed. This was the first and only time I would ever get the best of this man. Because of that, I wanted to savor every second.
Nino stood at my side, a sharpened blade in his hand and the same evil grin crossing his lips. We had used this tactic dozens of times. With the blood rushing to Senator Parisi’s head, it wouldn’t be long after Nino sliced him open before he lost consciousness. Even though I wanted my vengeance, I let Nino do the honors.
Nino dragged the knife along the Senator’s chest. A trail of blood ran down his body, over his right shoulder, and onto the floor. I wanted to cut into his flesh until every last drop of his blood was pooled on the floor at my feet. But I needed information from him. His confession was the key to Isabella’s freedom as well as mine. And his downfall couldn’t be his death. That would be too kind. He hadn’t earned my mercy.
“You sick fucks,” Senator Parisi growled. “You will pay for this. Mark my words.” His last breath was ragged as if he expelled the last of his energy to get it out. He closed his eyes for a second and breathed through his nose.
“If anyone is going to pay, it will be you, Senator,” I shot back.
Glancing at Nino, I tilted my head to Senator Parisi to tell him to keep going. This time, Nino stuck the knife into his neck, slicing deeper than before. Blood dripped onto the cement floor, right in front of my Ferragamo oxfords. I took a step back, careful not to ruin my dress shoes.
Cruel King: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 19
