by Lisa Cardiff
“Was sabotaging the brake line one of them?”
“Ding. Ding. And the gold medal goes to Emilia Trassato.” The gun stabbed my cheek with enough force to leave a mark. I stayed still, not daring to reach for the gun or do anything else to provoke him. I needed to buy time, keep him talking about anything and everything. “You’re ready to consider my offer now, aren’t ya?”
“Yes,” I rasped. “What do you want?” Maybe he had snapped and he just wanted me to rethink marrying Marcello for some reason and once he said what he came here to say, he’d let me go. That didn’t explain Gavin’s ring, however. “How’d you get the ring? Was that another warning?”
“Your dead husband. Where else? He tried to rip me off.” A sinister chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Can you imagine that two-bit hick thinking he could screw me over and get away with it? We had a deal. I couldn’t let him live.”
My mind spun in a circle, trying to make sense of his words. “Gavin? What did he have to do with this?”
“He was supposed to get you to sign a document giving up the rights to your inheritance so the remainder of my father’s money would go to me.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would he do that?”
“I was going to give him a cut. The piece of shit got cold feet and planned to tell you everything.” Lucca shoved the back of the stool, jamming my ribs against the quartz countertop, stealing my breath. “He wrote you that letter explaining everything.” He tapped the envelope with the barrel of his gun. “Too bad there’s not enough time for you to read it. It’s really touching, and God knows, I’d love to draw this out and really punish you. But I don’t know how long I have before Marcello comes back here.”
“So you killed Gavin?” I asked around erratic mouthfuls of air. I already knew he did. The mafia shot you through mouth when you blabbed their secrets. In the beginning, I thought my family had something to do with Gavin’s death. They did, just not the family I thought.
“He didn’t leave me with any choice. I tried to make it right. I politely asked you to come to Italy, but did you listen? No. You got swept up in Marcello’s lies. Now you’ve left me without a choice. I have debts. I need that money, and I’m out of options. You have to die.”
“Lucca,” I squeaked, “we can sit down and work this out. If you need money, you should have told me. I could loan it to you or give you enough to clear your debts. Just put the gun down and—” The butt of his gun collided with the back of my head. My mouth slammed shut and my teeth bit into my tongue. A coppery taste filled my mouth. My ears rang and my head throbbed. A trail of hot liquid trickled down my neck.
“No, it’s too late.”
“Nobody has to know about this or about the car brakes. I can call my attorney and have him write something up. We can sign it today. In a matter of hours, you could have your hands on that money,” I pleaded, knowing in all likelihood, it would never happen. Agreements like those took days. I searched my mind for a plausible alternative. “Better yet, I’ll write something right now. Get me a piece of paper. You can have every cent. It doesn’t mean anything to me.”
That was the truth. I didn’t want the fucking money. It was cursed. It hadn’t done anything except ruin my life.
“Stai zitta! You’re a whore just like your mother. She was always our father’s favorite, and that love transferred to you when she died. He used to have someone tape all your recitals and send them to him.”
“Is that where the video on the TV came from?”
“He never even met you and he wanted to make sure you had everything,” he continued, not bothering to answer the question. “I stayed by that miserable bastard’s side my entire life, and he left you more than half. Can you imagine what that’s like? To be fucked over by your own father?”
“No, and I’m sorry. But it doesn’t matter now. Like I said, I’ll sign it all over to you.”
“You’re lying.”
“No.” I shook my head wildly, making my already throbbing head feel like it was going to explode. “I’m telling you the truth.”
He grabbed the collar of my shirt and dragged me off the stool to the floor. His nostrils flared, and his eyes were feral. He switched to Italian, and what sounded like a string of curses spilled from his mouth. Spittle landed on my face, and he shoved his gun into my mouth, clipping my front teeth.
My mind splintered, and I squeezed my eyes shut, certain I was drawing in my final breaths. My muscles tensed for impact, I counted each exhalation, wondering when he would pull the trigger and end my life.
One.
I’d never walk down the aisle with Marcello.
Two.
I’d never have kids.
Three.
I’d never play the piano again.
Four.
I’d never get to make things right with my dad.
Five.
So many things left unsaid…undone.
Absorbed in my terror, I didn’t realize we were no longer alone. A primal sound ripped through the air.
“You fucker!” Marcello roared.
Suddenly, Lucca’s body was launched through the air, and the cold barrel slid from my mouth. A gunshot echoed through air. Pain sliced through my arm.
“No!” I screamed. My heart exploded into a rapid-fire beat that hammered inside of my head.
Flesh pounded against flesh. Sweat and blood flew like shrapnel. Somehow Marcello ended up on top, straddling Lucca. The blood gave me flashbacks of finding Gavin’s dead body sprawled out on the floor of his study. Even worse, the metallic scent hung in the air like a fog, seeping into my pores and clogging my throat. My stomach rolled, and I turned my head to the side, unable to watch the violence. My vision swam. So much pain, I couldn’t move even if I wanted to.
“Marcello,” I whispered, knowing he couldn’t hear me over sounds of violence coming from Lucca and him.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-NINE
Marcello
My blood boiling, I couldn’t stop pummeling Lucca. His cheekbone collapsed against my fist, and my only reaction was to grin. I didn’t give a fuck that killing Lucca might bring the bosses in Italy down on me. I’d deal with the consequences, if any, later, because I sure as shit wouldn’t show him any mercy. Mercy was for the weak. You didn’t come after me or mine and live to tell the story.
His eyes rolled up into his head. His breath stuttered in his chest. He didn’t have much longer to live. I rolled off him and studied the scene in front of me. My hands and shirt were painted in blood. His, not mine. His face was swollen and nearly unrecognizable. It didn’t matter; I’d have Johnny cut up his body, drench him in acid, and dump his remains where no one would find them for decades.
“Marcello, I need you. I don’t feel so good.” Emilia’s faint plea cut through my haze. I glanced over at her, my chest heaving.
“Something’s wrong with…” Her eyelids fluttered, and I looked at her, really looked at her. Blood covered the side of her face. The right arm of my shirt, the one I let her sleep in last night, was soaked with blood.
“Jesus Christ.” I was wasting precious time when Emilia was hurt, maybe dying. I staggered to my feet, my heart feeling like somebody had crushed it in a vice. I picked her up and carried her to the sofa. “Hold on, baby. Everything’s going to be okay. It’s over. I’ve got you now. Just hang on until Johnny comes. He’s right behind me.”
She didn’t open her eyes. I repeated my assurances over and over, coaxing her to hold on, demanding she keep fighting. She looked ashen, small, and fragile. I ripped the sleeve off her shirt and tied it above the wound. She’d been shot, but it wasn’t bad. It only grazed her. I blew out a breath and hugged her tighter, counting the seconds.
After a few minutes, she tried to get up. “Gavin’s letter,” she mumbled, her eyes heavy. “I need to read it. I have to know—”
“Later, stay still. You’ve been shot.”
Her eyes widened with panic. “I don’t want to die. I have
n’t done anything. I’m a mess. I have so much to make up for…”
“You’re not dying, little Emilia. You’re gonna have plenty of years to do whatever you want.”
She sagged into my arms. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
“Lucca?” she whispered.
“Gone.”
She swallowed slowly like she had trouble completing the motion. “Good.”
My front door flew open. Johnny charged through, followed by Dominick and Gian.
Fuckin’ hell.
I didn’t ask him to alert the cavalry. Dealing with the Trassatos wasn’t exactly on the top of my list right now.
Gian halted mid-step. “Porca Vacca! What the fuck happened?”
Ignoring Gian and Dominick, I focused on Johnny. “What are they doing here?”
Johnny shut the door and set his long black duffel bag on the kitchen counter. At least he didn’t forget the shit we needed to clean up this mess. “This is their territory, and I’m a one-man show. I thought we could use some help here. I didn’t know how big of a mess you were planning to make.”
“Dad, Gian,” Emilia said, her voice barely audible, “is that you?”
Dominick stood by the door, his face pained, and his hands stuffed in his pockets like he was unsure what to do next. I didn’t expect anything else. I’d overheard more than one conversation where Ava, Emilia’s mother, complained to my father that Dominick was emotionally unavailable and hard. Now, though, for the sake of the woman I loved, I wished he’d wipe that chip off his shoulder and pretend he actually cared about someone other than himself.
Gian hovered over Lucca, checking his vitals as he punched a message into his phone. I resented relying on the Trassatos for anything. It would be so much better if this happened in Chicago. In fact, I should have forced Emilia to come home with me when we left the ranch. Lucca wouldn’t have gotten within a mile of her there.
“Yeah, your dad and cousin are here,” I answered for Dominick and Gian, ruffling my hand through her short, dark hair. “They’re worried about you.” I didn’t know fuck all about either of them. In all likelihood, Dominick was more worried that this would screw up his life and wanted to make sure it didn’t boomerang back on him.
“He’s dead,” Gian announced like he wasn’t stating the obvious. I made damn sure that psycho could never touch my woman again. Gian stuffed his phone in his pocket and kicked Lucca in the head with his shiny black loafer, and fuck if that didn’t make me like him just a bit more. I’d always been skeptical of him and his motives since he rocked the Trassatos by marrying a non-Italian, but he was one of the few men in our world who had the balls do what he wanted and damn the consequences.
“No shit,” I grumbled, not wanting him to think I wasn’t still pissed at him after that stunt he pulled with paying off the doorman to get Emilia’s name on my approved list of visitors. I shouldn’t hold a grudge considering it brought her back to me, but I didn’t want anyone accusing me of being soft.
“Victor will be here in a few minutes to take care of Emilia, but for now, let’s get her into one of the bedrooms.”
Johnny pulled a roll of black plastic sheeting from his bag. What came next wouldn’t be pretty. Lucca’s body had to disappear, though. As much shit as he was in back in Italy with debts and vendettas up to his eyeballs, they wouldn’t let this go if they found out I killed him and the Trassatos helped clean it up. But I’d be damned if I’d let Emilia witness the gory process. That’s the sort of shit that scarred people for life.
I wrapped my arms around Emilia tighter and stood. I didn’t get more than a few steps before Dominick’s hand came down my shoulder.
“I’ll take Emilia. You need to get a handle on things out here.”
“No.” God knew what sort of fucked-up stuff Dominick would do or say. The stoic bastard would probably blame this all on her, and dealing with his guilt trip was the last thing Emilia needed while she was injured. Johnny could clean up the mess. That’s what I paid him for.
“Listen,” Dominick raked his fingers through his salt and pepper hair, “I know I haven’t been the best father, but I need to be with her. She’s my daughter. I already thought I had lost her once. I want to be there for her. Give me some time alone with her. Then she’s all yours.”
I glanced down at Emilia, and she nodded. “I’ll be fine with him. Don’t worry about me. Like you said, I’m not going to die today. And you have stuff to do.”
“Take care of her.” It was more of a threat than a request.
“I will.”
CHAPTER FORTY
A grueling hour later, we had the place cleaned up and what was left of Lucca’s body rolled in plastic and stuffed in the duffel bag. My concern for Emilia was driving me crazy. I had to see for myself that she was okay.
I closed the door behind Gian, Victor, and Johnny and jogged down the hall to the bedroom. When I entered the room, Dominick pushed Emilia’s hair away from her face and stood up from the side of the bed.
“I love you, Emilia,” he said, his eyes red and puffy.
So the bastard had feelings after all.
“Love you too, Dad.” Emilia smiled, and the knot in my chest unraveled a little. While I realized her injuries weren’t life threatening, seeing her happy with some color back in her cheeks reassured me.
“Thanks for giving me time with her,” Dominick said before slapping me on my shoulder. “I trust you can take it from here.”
“Yep.” I waited for the door to close. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. Drugged.”
“I was so fucking worried about you.” I sat on the edge of her bed, wanting to touch her, hold her, but she looked so small and beat up I didn’t dare. She had a mean-looking cut near her temple. One eye was bruised underneath. She had a large bandage around her upper arm. It made me want to bring that son of a bitch back to life just to kill him all over again. What kind of man hit a woman?
She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “You came. You understood my message. That’s all that matters. And the good news is that we don’t have to look over our shoulders anymore. Lucca tampered with your car. He admitted it.”
“I figured as much. How’d things go with your dad?”
“Weird. Good. I don’t know. He wanted to explain some things about himself.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “And?”
“He basically apologized for being so distant after my mom died. He said he kind of shut down and he didn’t know how to act anymore except to keep everyone out. He really wants things to change between us.”
“Do you want that?”
She bit her lower lip. “I do. Almost dying puts things into perspective.”
Those words were like a knife to the chest. My woman shouldn’t worry about dying at the hands of a madman. I should have been more careful or left Johnny at my place to watch her. “I wouldn’t have let you die.”
“It worked out, and now I have a shot at a real relationship with my dad. We’ll see if we can be something more than two people who share the same blood.”
“Anything else?”
“I’m not getting married today.”
I kissed her head. “No. Definitely not, but as soon as you feel better, we’ll go. I don’t want to wait any longer than we have to. Hopefully a couple days and then we can go to Chicago and—”
“No. I don’t want to get married.”
I frowned, my chest constricting. “Emilia, I won’t let something like this happen again.”
“No. That’s not what I meant.” She tightened her grip on my hand, her eyes blazing with emotion. “I want to do it right. The ceremony. Family. Friends. The dress. Bridesmaids. Groomsman. Flower Girls. Ring Bearers. That ring you gave me last time. You waiting for me at the end of the aisle. The whole shebang. And I don’t want the Rossis or anyone else casting a cloud over our marriage. I married Gavin for all the wrong reasons. I want to marry you for the right reasons and show everyone nei
ther of us has anything to hide because I love you.”
I cupped her cheeks. “Little Emilia, I love you so much I ache with it. You gotta know I’d do anything for you. Kill. Maim. Steal. You name it. I’d even throw you the biggest damn wedding the Trassatos and Masciantonios have ever seen.”
She trailed her fingers up my arm. “So you’re okay with waiting?”
No, I wasn’t.
“I’ll give you two months to put it together,” I answered instead.
“Six.”
“Two and a half.”
“Four and no less. Our friends and family may have already made plans.”
“Three. That’s my final offer, and everyone who cares about us will cancel their plans to be there. This is going to be the marriage of the century.” I sealed my lips against hers before she could object because there was no way I’d wait more than three months to make her mine when I had waited a lifetime already.
Chuckling, she pushed me away. “This isn’t the first ultimatum you have given me to marry you. You realize that, don’t you?”
I cringed, remembering the way I backed her into a corner before she ran away. I promised her she could come with me to Chicago and decide if she thought we were a good fit before we married. I made love to her for the first time to seal the deal, then pulled the rug out from under her and demanded she marry me immediately. “I’m hoping you’ll take one of them seriously.”
“This is one that will stick.”
I grinned. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Three months we marry and neither of us will ever look back.”
EPILOGUE
Emilia
With nervous hands and a frantically beating heart, I pulled out the letter from Gavin, reading it one more time before I put the final period on that chapter of my life and anything and anyone that came before him, Marcello. In so many ways, he was the other half of my soul, and now he was what he promised he’d be so many years ago: my future.
Emilia,
I don’t know where to start. As I sit here writing this letter, my one wish is that we could go back to the beginning and start all over again. Beautiful girl with a heartbreaking smile and a New York accent walks through my door wanting a job. It sounds like the beginning of a joke, but it’s not. It was the beginning and the end for me.
