by Bella J
What the hell was he talking about? And why did my stomach clench when he said he’ll be sending me home? That’s what I wanted, right? To go home, to get away from him?
I moved closer. “Castello, what—”
He lifted a hand silencing me like I was nothing more than a goddamn slave, and it stung more than it should have—especially after what I just heard.
His mother smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “That was not part of the plan, son.”
“It is now.”
This time Vico spoke up. “You are choosing this whore over your responsibility to your family?”
Castello glowered his way, menace oozing out of his every pore. “I am choosing no one. You want revenge against the person responsible for Carlo’s death, and I am giving that to you. William Linscott will hand himself over, and you will have your revenge. But Tatum will be set free.”
“No!” His mother shot back up to her feet. “Absolutely not. That woman will die along with her father.”
“No way!” The words just left my mouth and everyone turned to face me, including Castello.
“Keep quiet,” he muttered below his breath so only I could hear.
I ignored him and glanced at his mother. “You can’t kill my father.”
“Oh I can, child.” She smiled like she already tasted victory. “And I will, but you will die first.”
“No, Madre. She will not.”
Silence fell across the room. About twenty men went dead silent. Not even one breath could be heard. Castello and his mother continued to hold each other’s glare, animosity pulsing between mother and son like a life force.
“Vico,” she said with a sordid smile on her face. “Bring him in.”
What? Who was him?
Panicking, I looked at Castello. The way he and Uncle Gino glanced at each other with uncertainty it was obvious that no one expected this.
Vico got up and walked with his head held high, his exuded arrogance nauseating me.
There was a door at the far corner of the room, and everyone’s eyes were glued in that direction. The amount of fear that ran through my veins made me feel lightheaded, my knees weak. But when that door opened, and I saw who stood on the other side my lightheadedness was gone, replaced with an explosion of dread and confusion.
“Dad,” I whispered, and Castello glanced over his shoulder at me, his expression carrying the same confusion.
My dad was gagged, his wrists tied in front of him. Blood covered half his face, and he walked with a limp as Vico dragged him toward the crowd.
Again I looked at Castello. “What the hell is going on?”
Castello stepped closer to his mother. “What in God’s name do you think you are doing?”
“Incentive.” She smiled maliciously—victoriously, and I wanted to wipe that smile off her face with my goddamn fist.
Vico dropped my father into a chair next to Mrs. Fattore, and when my dad saw me, he moaned and whimpered with the gag fixed in his mouth.
My body started to shake as new tears blurred my vision. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t handle seeing my dad like this.
I launched forward and placed my hands on the table right in front of Mrs. Fattore. Castello tried to grip my elbow, but I jerked out of his reach.
“Let my father go?”
“I’m sorry, child, but I can’t do that.”
“Let my father go and you can kill me. I won’t fight you. You can torture me, kill me as slowly as you want, I won’t fight, just as long as you let my father go!” Desperation clung to my every word while I tried to bite back more tears. Castello cursed behind me, but I ignored him. This was no longer about just us. His mother had turned the tables by bringing my father here, and even though my father and I never saw eye to eye, I would gladly trade my life for his.
“You see, Tatum”—she glanced from my father to me—“I can’t do that since we plan on killing you both. That has always been the plan.”
My father’s blue eyes watered when he stared at Mrs. Fattore in horror. Me? My stomach had dropped to the soles of my feet, my heart pounding as if it wanted to break through my ribs.
Vico smiled. “We never planned on making any trade. Your father had been put under the impression that we would trade your life for his, but that was never our intention…was it, Castello?” He glanced over my shoulder at Castello, and I turned around to face him.
Dark eyes bore into mine. “No it wasn’t,” he admitted. “But things changed.”
“Oh, nothing has changed.” Vico ripped the gag from my father’s mouth. “Tell them. Tell them who had Carlo murdered.”
Sobs wracked through my father’s body, his face cut and bruised from what looked like one hell of a beating. Blue eyes that mirrored my own stared at me, pain, sorrow and so much regret clouding them.
“I’m sorry, Tatum.” He swallowed hard. “I had him killed, but—”
Vico stuffed the gag back in his mouth, and I no longer registered any voices, any sound—nothing. The only thing I heard was my father’s word, my father’s admission of what I had hoped like hell wasn’t true. All this time, whenever Castello told me about my father’s role in Carlo’s death I didn’t believe it. I convinced myself that they were all wrong. But now, it seems that the only person who was wrong…was me.
“I think the man isn’t done speaking.” Uncle Gino rounded the table to stand next to Castello.
“Oh he is,” Vico replied with a hiss.
Castello glanced at Uncle Gino, then at me, and then looked at his mother. “Let the man speak.”
She shook her head. “We heard enough.”
Castello walked up, menace and conviction plastered on his hard face. “I said, let the man speak.”
“I’m sorry, Castello, I can’t allow that. And this brings us to another issue.” She glanced around the room as if she was addressing the whole crowd. “I love my son dearly”—her stare returned to him—“but I no longer believe that you are the right leader for this family, and neither does the majority of everyone here. The responsibility of leading and protecting this family is no longer yours, my son.”
Castello straightened his shoulders, but he didn’t say anything. The look of defeat on his face spoke volumes.
Why wasn’t he saying anything? This wasn’t a goddamn democracy. How could they just decide that he was no longer the leader? He was the one that told me they had certain rules they had to follow. Surely getting rid of the leader wasn’t so fucking simple
Vico stepped right up, putting his face inches from Castello’s. “I’m sorry, brother, but you blew it. You are no longer in charge.”
And then Castello smiled before laughing maniacally. “You think I didn’t know you would do this, that you would challenge me?”
“No challenge necessary, brother. It’s already done.”
“And I suppose if I challenge you, you will tell the rest of the family that I killed Nicollo.”
Gasps and curses erupted. Shivers broke out over my body as panic flared up, threatening to burn to me to ash.
A man I didn’t recognize jumped off his seat and yelled, “Where is my son? Where is Nicollo?”
Castello still smiled. “Well he sure as fuck isn’t here, Uncle Roberto. And you know why? I killed him. I put my gun against his head and pulled the motherfucking trigger. Go have a look, his corpse is probably still lying right there where I left him.” He turned to Vico. “Right, little brother?”
Men stormed out of the dining hall and it felt like all hell was starting to break loose. Castello glanced at Giovanni, nodding his head. And the next thing I knew Giovanni grabbed my elbow and pushed me behind him, readying his gun…protecting me.
Castello looked back to face Vico, who seemed like he had been caught off-kilter. “I’m sorry, little brother. Did I let the cat out of the bag too soon? Were you saving that card for another day?”
Vico bit his lower lip, his fists balled. I was sure Vico would strike, but then his m
other placed a hand on his shoulder easing him back.
A man came running back inside and whispered something to the man Castello referred to as Uncle Roberto.
It all happened so fast, I hardly blinked. Roberto pulled out a gun, aimed it at Castello, and my heart stopped. I went cold, numb, my head blank as I watched it all in horror.
A gunshot resounded, and I closed my eyes. There were screams and curses, and my heart shattered—broken into a thousand pieces.
Please God…please God.
But when I opened my eyes, relief flowed through me like the stream of living water when I saw that Roberto had collapsed, and Uncle Gino held the gun that made the shot.
I was shocked at the relief I felt when I realized that Castello hadn’t been hurt. There was a time that I would have applauded anyone who put a bullet in his chest, but now I feared it.
Uncle Gino lowered his gun, and every man behind him had their guns aimed to the other side of the room. The scene in front of me was horrifyingly dramatic as I witnessed one family split in two.
“Now”—Uncle Gino turned toward Vico—“let’s find out what really happened, shall we?”
Uncle Gino nodded toward a man on his left, and the man walked over to my father. My heart pounded, and ice filled my insides.
The man removed the gag, and my father sucked in a breath.
Uncle Gino walked forward. “Tell us, Mr. Linscott. Please tell us your side of the story.”
From the corner of my eyes I saw Castello move slightly back toward me and Giovanni. I wondered if he felt the need to be close to me. Even after everything that happened—and would probably still happen, I felt the need to be close to him, to feel him.
My father took a few more deep breaths. “Yes, I had Carlo killed. But only because I was trying to protect my daughter.” He glared in Vico and Loretta’s direction. “Carlo didn’t love my daughter. The only thing he wanted was to get his filthy hands on my money.”
“Lies!” Castello’s mother shouted.
“It’s the truth! He came to me with an ultimatum, telling me that if I didn’t give him two hundred million dollars, he would make sure Tatum married him. And once he slipped that ring on her finger, he would make her life a living hell while living off her trust fund.”
Castello’s mother stormed forward and slapped my father hard across the face. “Liar!”
“Loretta, stop.”
“It’s all lies!” she shouted to Uncle Gino. “Lies, lies, lies!”
Suddenly everything started to make sense. The lies Carlo told me, the way he acted like the perfect fucking man, pretending like he had no idea who my family was. He knew how skeptic I was of people wanting to be a part of my life, thinking that all they saw when they looked at me was dollar signs.
My body went numb as all the lies and deceit came down on me like a rockslide of betrayal, and my mind started to spin out of control. Everything was a lie. Everything that Carlo ever told me, shared with me, confessed to me was all lies. The pain I felt when I thought he had left was a result of his deception and trickery, all just so that he could get his hands on my family’s money.
Uncle Gino stepped forward. “It’s not lies, Loretta, and you know it. This was your plan, your scheme to begin with.”
Deadly eyes, black with venom glowered in his direction. “You son of a bitch. How dare you betray your own family?”
“You are not my family.”
Finally Castello broke the silence he had up until now. “Why?” he asked softly, the question directed at his mother.
Guilt washed over her like the Dead Sea. Everyone in the room could see her guilt, the shame that fell over her like a veil of black.
“Your father lost everything. Everything! Because he was a selfish, greedy bastard who didn’t know when to stop.”
Castello gave another step forward. “What are you talking about?”
“He gambled away our entire fortune on the stock market. He gained a new informant, a supposed insider, and because enough was never enough for him, he placed everything on the line because of the word of a liar, leaving us with nothing.” Tears rolled down her cheeks in angry waves. “Carlo and I had to act. We had no choice.”
Castello pulled his hands through his hair while I struggled to breathe, trying to make sense of everything I was hearing. It was all too much—the lies being exposed, the truths being revealed—I couldn’t wrap my head around any of it.
“It’s true,” Uncle Gino said. “Finally she speaks the truth.”
Vico stepped up, placing his hand on his mother’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. None of this matters. The only thing that matters is that this man”—he pointed at my father—“is still responsible for Carlo’s death.”
“Because he was trying to protect his daughter!” Castello yelled, his voice booming like furious thunder through the room.
“And I was trying to protect you,” his mother countered. “All of you. Your father didn’t give a shit while he gambled away our lives. I was the one who stood up and tried to make it right. And this is what I get? This is what I get for trying to protect our family?”
Castello’s face was red and dark, his eyes burning behind brown irises. “You were only trying to protect yourself.”
And then another gunshot.
Giovanni pressed his body against mine, pushing me against the wall, and I could hardly breathe. But it wasn’t the gunshot that frightened me…it was the deadly silence that followed.
My instincts told me that I didn’t want to know—I didn’t want to see who received that bullet. Unfortunately for me I peered from behind Giovanni’s huge body only to see my father’s head hanging down, blood leaking from his mouth as if his life was draining out of him.
“No!” With strength I didn’t know I had I pushed past Giovanni and ran toward my father. There was nothing but silence—or I just didn’t hear anything besides my heart breaking. My eyes focused on nothing but my father, tunnel vision steering me in his direction. I needed to get to him, to save him.
And then she was there. The face of the devil appeared between me and my father, the glint of a gun shining from the sun beaming in through the windows bringing me to a halt.
I froze. She aimed. My life was no more.
I closed my eyes, visions of my father and me when I was little bombarded my mind. Laughter, happiness, and so much love. Stuck in that moment in time, I allowed myself to be swept away in all the emotions, to be there with my father for one more second. Nothing else mattered. This war, Castello, Carlo, my life…nothing mattered but that one moment.
Then through the haze of silence, another shot caused my ears to ring, but it didn’t tear away the memory, the moment, the bliss of just not caring anymore.
I waited for impact, but it never came. The vision in my head slowly disappeared, and the deadly silence around me was the heaviest I ever felt.
When I opened my eyes, I sucked in a breath, and I couldn’t even hear my heartbeat anymore.
Castello stood with a gun in his hand, his finger still holding the trigger…while his mother’s body collapsed to the ground. In shock I looked down, a pool of blood forming around her within seconds.
And then all hell broke loose.
Someone grabbed me around my waist, lifting my feet off the ground and carrying me away from Castello instead of to him. I wanted to go to him.
I screamed, I kicked, I punched, but it was no use. It was a riot, chaos, complete mayhem as shots started to fill the silence like the thunder of a storm colliding with the winds of a hurricane.
“Castello!” I yelled, trying to get loose.
His eyes met mine—dark beautiful eyes, but then he shouted, “Get her the fuck out of here, Giovanni! Now!”
“No! Please, put me down.”
It was no use. I was carried out the door and down halls I didn’t recognize. Giovanni carried me like I weighed nothing. I felt like nothing. My insides felt like nothing. Images of my father with
his head hanging down, red leaking from his body consumed me, and I stopped fighting. While Giovanni ran, carrying me with him, I just did nothing.
Lies. My life has been nothing but lies.
Carlo never loved me. My father killed Carlo. Vico killed my father. Castello killed his mother. So many lies and deaths surrounded me, and I soaked it all up. Hate, revenge, death, lies—it was all inside me now, infecting me. I could feel it spread through every bone, consuming my mind, my soul…my heart. After fighting for so long, I gave in and embraced it all.
And then…nothing.
26
CASTELLO
It’s been four days since all hell broke loose in what Tatum called the dining hall of horrors. Four days since she lost her father. Four days since I killed my mother.
Four days since the war started.
I was standing by the window of a bedroom in Uncle Gino’s house. We’ve been taking up residence in his house since Vico, the smug son of a bitch, claimed the Fattore mansion, as well as half of the associates. Lucky for me, I had Uncle Gino’s support, which also meant I had the support of his associates. I needed all the support I could get if I wanted to win this war against Vico—a war between brothers.
He blamed me for killing our mother, and rightfully so. I blamed myself. But when it came to choosing between two lives with only a split second to make a decision, there was no question in my mind. There was not a chance in hell that I would have let my mother hurt Tatum—no one will ever hurt Tatum…except me. She was mine, and I would protect her by any means necessary.
So much has happened, and both Tatum and I had lost someone we cared about. But it was her I worried about the most. The blue eyes that always stared back at me had lost their radiance. They were dull, lifeless, completely void of everything. Not that I blamed her. She lost her father. She lost the image she had of a man she once loved…my brother, who turned out to be just as wicked as my mother was. Everything was taken away from her, and instead of mourning the loss, she seemed to have embraced it. It hardened her, and that’s another thing I blamed myself for.
