by K. A. Ware
“Look at me,” I demanded. “How’s your vision?”
“I’m fine,” she said, waving me off. “I’ve had worse.”
I squeezed my eyes shut at the memories; I’d seen Vincenzo’s abuse of her many times over the years. The guilt I felt over being thankful that it wasn’t me was overwhelming. He’d never hit me, but it wasn’t as though I was naïve enough to believe he wouldn’t if pushed. I’d just been careful to keep on his good side, using my influence subtly.
“Come on, let’s get you up to bed,” I said, pulling her up, as I’d done so many times.
“Thank you,” she said when we finally got her settled into her bed. “For everything you’ve done for Carlo. He may not hit you, but I know you’ve had it worse.”
I forced myself to give her a tight-lipped smile. We’d never spoken about the tactics I’d used to keep Carlo safe, but she knew still. We both knew what had to be done. There was no use in discussing it.
It was after midnight when they arrived back home. The same fear and worry I’d felt all those years ago had come back with a vengeance, eating at me the entire day and into the night.
I crept to the door of my bedroom when I heard them come in through the front door. There was no reasonable explanation for me to be out of my room at this hour and I didn’t want to give Vincenzo reason to think my compliance was anything but absolute. I needed his trust of me to be intact.
“What have you done?”
Luciana.
“Mom—”
“Go to your room, Carlo.” Vincenzo’s voice rang out. “Now!”
I listened carefully for the sound of Carlo’s footsteps leading up the staircase, finally breathing a sigh of relief at the slam of his bedroom door.
“Why are you surprised? What did you think, I’d have a son, and he wouldn’t be involved in the family business? Don’t be stupid, woman.”
“You have nephews that could easily step into his place!” she shouted.
“But I have only one son, thanks to you.”
“Like I’d let you anywhere near me again once I realized what a monster you were?”
“Let me? That’s where you’re mistaken, wife. You don’t have any power here, have I not proven that to you yet?” The sounds of her shrieks split through the air followed by a loud thud.
My feet were taking me down the hall before I’d even decided to go to her. I didn’t know what I could do to help, but I had to try. Creeping up along the staircase, I peered between the balusters of the railing. Bile rose in my throat at the scene before me.
He had Luciana pinned against the wall at the entrance of the opposite hallway, a hand at her throat and the other holding a pistol in her open mouth.
“Keep quiet. If he comes down here, you both die, understand?”
She whimpered but nodded. He gave her another shake before placing the gun on the side table next to him. With one hand still secured around her neck; he ripped open her robe and roughly pulled the front of her nightgown down. The thin silk straps tore away from the fabric and exposed her bare breasts. I picked up a candelabra from the side table at the entrance to my hallway and started to inch out from behind the staircase.
“Maybe this will serve as a reminder that I own you,” he growled.
Luciana caught sight of me and her eyes rounded in fear. She shook her head slightly and mouthed the word ‘no.’ I held up the makeshift weapon I’d grabbed, but she shook her head again. Vincenzo was unaware of the silent argument we were having, too busy unzipping his pants and hiking up the skirt of her nightgown to notice. She caught my eye again and mouthed the only word that would have stopped me.
Carlo.
My eyes darted to the second story landing, I couldn’t see his door from my vantage point, but I knew he was up there. I debated my options. Even if I was able to sneak up on him and get the gun, what then? If we killed him, we’d have the weight of the entire family coming down on us, and Carlo was still too young to take over. If we didn’t kill him, it would just make him angrier. I didn’t want to think about what that would mean for Carlo.
Her eyes pleaded with me over his shoulder, ‘go’ she mouthed once more and I did. Leaving her in the hands of the demon he’d become felt like ripping out a piece of my soul. I walked back to my room, shattered. As soon as the door closed behind me, I crumpled to the floor, the candelabra still clutched in my hands, as I cried myself to sleep.
The decision to not take action was the hardest one I’d ever had to make, and I knew deep down it would haunt me for the rest of my life.
The next morning, I washed the dried tears from my face before heading to the kitchen to start the day. I wanted to check on Luciana, but I couldn’t risk getting caught by Vincenzo. Since Luciana and I had made peace, we’d been careful to maintain our normal interactions. He couldn’t know anything had changed. His increasing paranoia would make him suspicious, and the last thing we needed was him thinking we were plotting against him. Even if that was exactly what we were doing.
I wasn’t sure how I was going to pretend like everything was normal, but for Carlo’s sake, I had to.
Whatever it takes.
“We need to talk.”
I spun around to see Luciana limping into the kitchen.
“Oh, dio mio,” I whispered, rushing to her side, fresh tears starting to blur my vision before I even reached her.
“I’m fine. You don’t need to whisper; he left about an hour ago.”
“I’m so sorry,” I cried. The pain in my chest almost too much to bear. “I shouldn’t have left you.”
The bruises on her neck stood out harshly against her light skin, and I wanted to take them away, do something to take her pain on myself. Over the years she’d become more than an ally; she’d become a friend, and I’d abandoned her.
“Stop it!” Her voice was firm and unbroken, unlike her body. “You did exactly what you were supposed to do. Nothing you could’ve done would have stopped him; it would’ve just made it worse.”
“He’s out of control, Luciana. I don’t know what to d—”
“I’m leaving,” she said, cutting me off.
“What? He’ll never let you leave him; you know that,” I argued.
“I’m not leaving him; I’m just leaving. Going back to Italy to visit family.”
“For how long?”
She averted her eyes, not saying anything in response, and I knew.
“You’re not coming back, are you?”
“I have to do this. If I don’t leave, he’ll just continue to use me against Carlo and after last night things will only get worse.”
I could see the pain in her eyes at the thought of leaving her son. She was stronger than I’d ever given her credit for. I understood her decision, but a part of me resented her for being able to make it. There would be no such freedom for me, no matter the excuse. Vincenzo made it clear many years ago that I wasn’t going anywhere.
“And Carlo? What happens to him?”
“I have to trust that he’ll remember everything we taught him and make his own choices. His involvement in the business is inevitable; I know that. But hopefully, he’ll be able to carve his own path that will save him from that evil man.”
“So, when do you leave?”
“Today.”
I blinked in shock; then dread filled my stomach. “Does Vincenzo know?”
She took a deep breath and leveled me with a stare. “No. I’ll be gone before dinner. By the time he realizes I’m gone, I’ll be in the air.”
“This is bad, this is so bad,” I mumbled, shaking my head as if my words weren’t enough.
“I left him a note. He’ll be angry, but I doubt he’ll come after me. If anything, he’ll be glad to be rid of me.”
“I hope you’re right, for all our sakes.”
“Me too. Just remember the promise you made.”
“Whatever it takes,” I repeated the words that had been my mantra for the last eight years.
&
nbsp; Chapter 15
Seattle, Washington
June, 2000
Vincenzo
“Where’s the rest of it?” I demanded. Sifting through the bills again, I confirmed that he’d came up five grand short.
“I couldn’t find Tiny; he’s gone.”
The incompetent little shit should’ve known better than to come back with less than what he’d been sent out to collect. “You go back out there, and you get my fucking money! Do you understand? You’re not to set foot in my house again until you’ve got it.”
“Are you kidding? He could be halfway to Mexico by now,” Carlo argued, and it set my blood on fire.
“Failure is not an option, boy,” I said, rising from my behind my desk.
“Does that just apply to me? Because I seem to remember a failed cardroom in your not-so-distant past.”
“Why, you ungrateful little bastard,” I growled, stalking around my desk and snatching him up by his collar. “If you ever speak to me like that again, I swear not even God himself will be able to protect you.”
“Because he’s done such a great job of protecting me up until this point,” he said, rolling his eyes.
A flash of anger heated my skin, and I backhanded him, effectively wiping the smug smirk off his entitled face. Shoving him to the floor, I towered over him, “Disrespect me like that again and I’ll kill her. I know exactly where she is and how to get to her. It would be as simple as a phone call, and she’d be gone. Don’t fucking test me, son.”
He glared at me from his position on the floor, his anger and fear evident.
Good.
“Fine,” he spat. “I’ll get you your fucking money.”
“You better,” I said, walking back to take my seat. He took that as his cue to leave and made his way out of my office, but not before slamming the door.
I was done playing tug of war with him. He needed to fall in line or else. If he didn’t, I was going to need a backup plan. As much as I liked to think myself invincible, I knew I wasn’t immortal. Someone would have to take over the family business eventually, and if not Carlo, then someone else.
Something my bitch of a wife had said flashed in my mind.
You have nephews that could easily step into his place.
Picking up the phone, I dialed the number I needed and waited as it rang. We didn’t speak much, but if she wanted to keep living the life she was, she’d give me what I wanted.
“Brother dearest,” Donatella’s greeting came over the line laced with fake sincerity.
“Donatella.”
“Oh, using the big bad boss voice on me, are you? You must need something.”
“You were never one to mince words, were you?”
“What do you want, Vincenzo?”
“Your son.”
Silence greeted me from the other line. I waited her out, unwilling to repeat myself.
“Which one?” she asked, suspicious.
“Just Antonio. For now.”
“What’s in it for me?”
I shook my head at her selfishness, but that was my sister. She’d never cared about anyone but herself.
“What do you want?”
“An increase in my allowance,” she said quickly as if her answer had been prepared. Why she would need an increase in the allowance I already paid her every month was beyond me. Her house was paid for, but she found new ways to burn through money every day.
“How much?”
“Twenty grand a month.”
I laughed at her audacity. “Five.”
“Oh, come on, fifteen, you can afford it.” I actually couldn’t, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.
“Ten, that’s all I’m giving you. Take it or you get nothing, and I’ll take him anyway.”
“Fine, when do you want him?”
I smirked at how easy it was to bribe her first born out of her. “Get him on a plane today; I want him here and ready to start work tomorrow,” I said and disconnected the call.
I didn’t need to hear her agreement; she’d do as she was told if she wanted her money.
“Come in,” I called out at the knock on my office door.
“Sir, your nephew is here,” Al announced, leading a young man into the room.
“Antonio, welcome,” I said, getting up to greet him. It’d been a few years since I’d seen him, and those years had been good to him. He’d grown out of that lanky stage and filled out quite a bit.
“Uncle,” he greeted as I clasped him in a hug.
“Look at you, all grown up. How old are you now, son?”
“Twenty, sir,” he replied. He stood straight with his hands behind his back.
His stance showed respect, something that had been severely lacking around here as of late.
“Good, good. Come, sit, let’s talk.” I gestured to the leather chair and took my seat behind my desk once more.
Before we had time to say much of anything, Carlo came storming into my office, as if it were already his.
“Here’s your—” He stopped short when he noticed I wasn’t alone.
“Carlo,” I said, clear distaste in my voice. “You’re just in time; your cousin has just arrived.”
Antonio turned in his seat to look at his cousin.
“Antonio? What are you doing here?” Carlo asked suspiciously.
Instead of replying, he turned to me, waiting for my answer. It seemed as though my sister hadn’t divulged why he was here.
“He’s coming to work for the family, same as you. Do you have something for me?” I asked Carlo, effectively cutting off further questioning.
“Yeah. Five grand, as requested,” he said, tossing a fat envelope on my desk.
“Good. Now take Antonio upstairs to get settled. Elena’s set up your mother’s old room for him.”
I watched in sick pleasure as Carlo’s jaw tightened. “Come on,” he said, leading Antonio out of the room.
A smile split my face as I watched him leave. He didn’t like being reminded his dear mother wasn’t coming back. Too bad, she’d be dead before she’d stepped foot in this house again.
“Al!” I called out, knowing the man was on the other side of the door, awaiting instruction.
“Yes, sir?”
“Send Elena in,” I ordered without looking up from the stack of bills I was counting.
“Yes, sir.”
Five grand, it was all there. However, it was all in crisp 100s, not the usual mess of crumpled bills of varying denominations we usually got as payment. A quick flip through the stack confirmed the consecutive serial numbers and my anger started to ignite again. I’d need to check his account to see if he’d pulled out money to pay someone else’s debt rather than doing his damn job.
“You wanted to see me?” Elena’s sweet voice drifted from the doorway where she stood.
“Come here, close the door.”
Even in her forties, she was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I would’ve been the envy of every man if I’d been allowed to marry her instead of the cunt I was forced to marry. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t come from money; she was Sicilian, that would’ve been enough. I had the perfect, beautiful and compliant trophy wife all picked out until my father had to go and fuck it all up.
“Antonio just arrived,” I informed her as she came to stand beside my desk. “I want you to make sure he’s comfortable. He’ll be working with Carlo, but I want you to keep your eyes out—I don’t want them getting too close.”
A confused look crossed her face. “You don’t want them getting close?”
“Hey,” I said, reaching out to pull her closer. “I just don’t want them losing focus. Those boys are the future of this family; they need to take it seriously.”
“Of course,” she said, casting her eyes downward. A thrill of desire ran through me at the instinctively submissive gesture.
I hooked a finger under her chin and forced her to meet my eyes. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, I’m just worried about Carlo. He’s angry all the time; he needs some light in his life. Some balance.”
What he needs is to get his act together and start acting like a fucking man.
“Like what you do for me?” I asked, giving her what I knew she wanted. Her compassion for my insolent son got on my nerves, but since he was a part of me, I could understand why she cared.
Elena gave me her signature sweet smile. No matter how many times I’d had her, she still exuded an innocence that I craved.
“Something like that,” she said softly.
“He’s too young to get married, but I’ll figure out something.”
“We were young when we met,” she offered, running a hand through my hair.
“But I was an adult. Carlo may be eighteen, but he’s far from grown up. Maybe he just needs to blow off some steam. It’d be good for both the boys, keep them focused.”
Her nose scrunched up as if she were trying to figure out my meaning and I laughed.
“Don’t worry you’re pretty little head about it; I’ll take care of it.”
“Okay. Is that all you wanted?” she asked, starting to pull away.
I halted her retreat by wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer.
“Not even close,” I whispered into her ear as my free hand started to loosen her apron.
Chapter 16
Portland, Oregon
June, 2001
Antonio
“You’ve spent the last year learning the business, running errands and doing jobs with Carlo. Now, it’s time for you to learn what it takes to keep our organization at the top,” Vincenzo said, smoothly.
I followed him down the concrete steps without saying a word. We’d made the drive down from Seattle in relative silence. Unless asked a direct question, I rarely offered my opinion. I wasn’t one for small talk, something—it would appear—I’d inherited from my uncle. I found it best to stay silent; you learned more that way. Most people were uncomfortable with silence, they felt a need to fill it; more often than not, they ended up running their mouths, giving away information they probably shouldn’t.
