Revenge

by Dana Delamar

  Except of course, for Lucchesi. And now the fucker wanted Katie too.

  They weren’t going to get away with it. Not Katie and certainly not Lucchesi.

  He parked the red Ferrari a short distance down the road, out of sight behind some trees, and circled back on foot.

  Maybe he was wrong about her and Lucchesi. He loved Katie—she was beautiful and smart, and she’d make a great mom for his kids. Yeah, she had some flaws—she asked too many damn questions for one. If Carlo knew she was an outsider, he’d kill them both. Maybe he should have told her, but he wanted her to have a baby first. Once she had a kid, once she was settled in, once she saw the money from his promotion and how they could live, she’d be on board then. He knew it.

  But now—God, if she was fucking around on him…. Could his Katie really be a cheating slut? She was pushing thirty when they met, and there had to be a good reason why a beauty like her wasn’t taken. Something he’d missed that other guys hadn’t. But those days were over. He was getting to the bottom of this. Today.

  He snuck back to the orphanage and entered through a side door, then crept down the hall to Kate’s office.

  Lucchesi was with her, and their voices were low and intense. Vince’s heart dropped to his toes. It stank of secrets in there.

  He waited, listening, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying until her voice rose, high and all panicky, and she said, “I’m leaving Vince, but how can I ever keep myself safe from him?”

  A scalding hot burn filled his chest. He’d been pissed before, but now he knew what rage felt like. He stalked away to wait for Lucchesi to leave. The bastard was going to pay for this.

  And so was his wife. No woman would cheat on him and live to laugh about it.

  CHAPTER 5

  After Enrico left his card on her desk, Kate laid her head down in the circle of her arms. She wanted to weep. Or scream. Vince was a killer. A cold-blooded killer. And if she didn’t play this right, she could be his next victim.

  But losing her head wouldn’t help. She took a deep breath. At least she knew where she stood. She had enough cash to see her through a few weeks. Once she knew where she was staying, her parents could wire her some more.

  Enrico’s offer seemed sincere; she was more than a little tempted to take it. But he’d been married to a mobster’s daughter; he’d participated in Carlo’s business. Enrico could be as dirty as the Andrettis, only with a finer veneer on top.

  A shoe scuffed the floor, making her start. Kate looked up as Vince stepped into her office. His cheeks reddened and his eyes narrowed as anger crawled over his face. Her pulse skittered like a frightened mouse. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I waited until he left.” He paused, breathing fast. “What do you think, I’m fucking stupid?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Lucchesi.” Vince leaned across the desk. “How many times have you opened your legs for him?”

  Kate’s skin heated at the accusation. He might be a Mafioso, but she didn’t have to put up with this. “You have a lot of nerve.”

  “No. You have a lot of nerve. I saw the two of you. No man like Lucchesi just looks at a woman he wants. And you acted like a perfect little puttana too, playing that game so I’d have to leave. So you could be with him.”

  “You’re calling me a whore?” For some reason, the word hurt.

  “It fits.” Vince’s fingers opened and closed on her desk, his knuckles turning white when his hands clenched into fists.

  Seeing his near loss of control, she rose, her body trembling, a chill racing up her spine. She struggled to keep her voice even. “It’s over, Vince. I don’t have to take this from you.”

  He lunged, grabbing her by the hair, and yanked her halfway across the desk, sending her papers and laptop flying. She heard the computer hit the floor and break. He mashed her cheek flat against the wood, then pulled her head up, forcing her to look at him. “You’re my wife, and I’ll call you whatever I want. You’re a whore. A dirty, fucking, whore.” He spat the words at her, his voice low and menacing. For the second time that day, he backhanded her, sending her sprawling into the chair.

  Kate’s eyes flooded from the pain in her lip and jaw. Her face throbbed and stung from the slap, her scalp burned as if he’d pulled out a fistful of hair. She tried to gulp down air, but her throat felt too tight. Get up, run, damn it! Her muscles shook, her heart thrashed in her chest, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Couldn’t run.

  Vince stalked around the desk. Finally she regained control of her body and launched herself out of the chair, but he slammed her back into it, trapping her. “I’ll see you dead before I see you with a Lucchesi.”

  Enrico had nearly reached Kate’s office when the sound of her husband’s raised voice turned his blood to ice. He threw the door open, heard the click of Andretti opening a switchblade. The man bent over Kate, the knife gleaming.

  As Andretti’s head turned toward him, Enrico sprang for his knife hand. Capturing the man’s wrist, he crushed the bones, grinding them together. Andretti grunted with pain and lost his grip on the blade, the stiletto clattering to the tiles between them. Throwing his body into Enrico’s, Andretti sent them sprawling to the floor.

  Andretti landed on top. The impact jarred through Enrico and he struggled for air. Andretti’s meaty fist hurtled toward his face. He eluded the blow and grabbed Andretti’s left forearm, digging his fingers into hard cords of muscle. They were well-matched, but Enrico had the advantage when it came to weight and height. Straining hard, he finally flipped Andretti onto his back and held him flat, both of them panting with exertion. His voice came out rough when he spoke to Kate. “Get the knife.”

  “Don’t you fucking help him!”

  Kate picked up the shining blade, then clicked it shut and closed her fist around the knife’s pearl handle, her body shaking. She looked at Enrico with wide eyes.

  “Now call my guard, Ruggero.”

  “Fucking cunt!”

  Kate stepped into the hall. While she was calling Ruggero’s name, Enrico looked down at Andretti. “You will never speak to her or touch her again.”

  “You make me fucking sick. Sniffing around another guy’s wife.”

  Enrico’s cheeks burned. It was true. But it didn’t excuse Andretti’s behavior. “Take your anger out on me, not her.”

  “With pleasure, buddy.” Andretti bucked against Enrico and tried to wrench his arms free. “Let me the fuck up.”

  Enrico stared at Andretti until the man looked away. Then he slowly let him go and stood, watching him. Andretti rose from the floor smoothly, appearing little affected by their struggle. He straightened his jacket and dusted off his trousers. Then he stepped close, his face darkening. “I ain’t forgetting this, Lucchesi.” He spat at Enrico’s face. Enrico dodged, but some of the spittle found its mark and ran down his cheek. He wiped it off with the back of his hand.

  Antonio and Ruggero burst in and trained their guns on Andretti. Ruggero’s face grew stern as he sighted along the barrel. Enrico’s heart seized. Ruggero was about to pull the trigger. Killing Andretti in front of Kate would ruin everything. “No!” Enrico held up his hand for emphasis and stepped into Ruggero’s line of sight. “No,” he repeated. Ruggero looked at him questioningly. “This is a misunderstanding.”

  Andretti snorted. “I didn’t misunderstand you wanting to fuck my wife.” He took a step in Kate’s direction, and she jumped away from him, her back hitting the wall.

  “Stay away from her.” Enrico made his voice a low commanding rumble, the tone he’d use with a snarling dog.

  Andretti whipped back to look at him. “Fine. She’s your fucking puttana now. I don’t want her no more.” Then he turned to Kate again, his eyes blazing. “This ain’t over, bitch,” he said, then left the room.

  “Make sure he’s gone this time,” Enrico said to Ruggero, putting his anger into it.

  Ruggero followed Andretti, and Antonio st
epped out into the hall, taking a position to the left of the doorway.

  Enrico turned to Kate. She was shivering and hugging herself. When he moved toward her, she flinched. “Kate,” he said, his voice as soft as he could make it. “Are you injured?”

  She took a breath that sounded more like a sob. He eased toward her, even though she shook her head, backing up along the wall away from him until she reached the file cabinet in the left corner. Stopping there, she sank to the floor, her arms still crossed over her torso. He stopped a foot or so away and crouched down. He refrained from touching her, trying to use his voice to calm her. “He is gone. Ruggero will make sure.”

  She continued shaking her head, and he inched closer. “Everything is okay.”

  “How is my husband almost killing me okay?” she cried, her voice thick.

  Enrico took a deep breath and reached out for her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “I will keep you safe. I promise.”

  Kate burst into tears, and he pulled her into his arms. She sobbed against him, her body racked with one great shudder after another. Her safety had been ripped away, and by the one person who should have been protecting her. Her husband. Anger welled up in Enrico anew, a molten bolt of iron in his chest. The man was a prick of the first order. He swallowed hard. Dio mio, what Andretti might have done if Enrico had arrived only a few seconds later.

  And it was all his fault.

  He waited for Kate’s sobs to subside before letting her go. She walked to her desk, groping for the tissue box on the edge, the only thing still on it. Her plant was lying on the floor, the pot smashed, the dirt scattered. She stared at the mess, her lower lip quivering. Then she inhaled deeply and straightened her shoulders. Drying her eyes, she surveyed the wreckage of her office for a few moments before she started gathering her papers.

  Enrico picked up her laptop. The case was cracked and so was the screen. “I will make sure this is replaced straight away.”

  She looked up at him from where she was kneeling. “Do you really think I’ll be able to come back to work here?”

  He frowned. “Probably not. At least not for a while.” He set the damaged laptop on her desk and then leaned against it, crossing his arms. “You should stay with me until this matter is settled.”

  She paused in her work, her arms full of file folders and papers. “I’m not sure how long it’s going to take me to settle things with him.”

  Enrico blew out a breath. “We both have an enemy in the Andretti family. I may be able to negotiate a truce with Carlo, one that covers you as well.” He paused. “What is the alternative for you? A life of running from place to place, looking over your shoulder, hoping Vincenzo has not found you?”

  She looked away, shaking her head. “Maybe he’ll eventually forget about me.”

  “He thinks you have put the horns on him. He will not forget that.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked.

  He made the gesture for her, folding down all his fingers but the index and the pinky. “He thinks you have made him a cuckold.”

  “But I haven’t done anything! Can’t he see that?”

  “He is past reason. Giving a man the horns is the worst possible insult to his honor.”

  “Then he shouldn’t mind giving me a divorce.”

  She truly did not understand. “Kate, you cannot divorce the Mafia.”

  She blanched. “I have to try. I’ll hate myself if I don’t.”

  “I cannot let you do that, and I cannot leave you alone.”

  “I refuse to let other people fight my battles.”

  “What you want is irrelevant. All that matters is what you need, and that is protection. Protection that I can provide.” Dio, he sounded like the worst sort of pushy bastard. But he had to get through to her somehow.

  She stared at him, irritation riding high on her face. “What are you going to do? Kidnap me?”

  “If I have to.” He took a breath and softened his tone. “I am not speaking in jest. Your life is in danger. And I will not stand by and see you killed.” He met her eyes. “I will not allow it.”

  “And I will not be ordered around.”

  He sighed, unhappy about what he had to do. “Do you have a mirror?”

  “In my purse. Why?”

  “Give it to me, please.” She got her purse and gave him a compact. He opened it and held it up to her face, reflecting the bruises, the swollen lip, back at her. “Take a look, Kate. Do you think the man who did this to you will ever see reason?”

  Her eyes glittered with tears. She took the mirror from his hand.

  “I am only concerned with your safety.” He paused, as she stared blankly at her reflection. “You must come with me.”

  She took a hitching breath, then blew it out. “You certainly don’t give a girl a lot of options.”

  She’d finally heard him. A smile twitched across his lips. “What is that saying you Americans have? It is my way or the highway?”

  She laughed, a little too loud, and stood, clutching papers to her chest. “I’m telling you now, Enrico, that it’s my way or the highway, not yours.”

  It was his turn to chuckle. “I never had any doubt.”

  She set the pile on her desk, starting to sort the papers into neat stacks. He put a hand on her forearm. “That can wait. Or you can take it with you. I can get you a new laptop so you can work from my home, if you want.”

  “I’d like that. I’m going to need something to occupy my mind.”

  “So you will come with me then?” Grazie a Dio.

  “You made your point. I’m stubborn, but I’m not a fool.”

  “That makes two of us.” Though in his case, he wasn’t sure about the fool part.

  As they were getting in the car, Ruggero caught Enrico’s eye. He leaned close and murmured, “I’ve never known a Lucchesi who didn’t get what he wanted.”

  “I assure you, this isn’t how I wanted to get it.” When Ruggero turned to leave, Enrico caught his sleeve. “We need to talk later.”

  Ruggero nodded. “I expect my punishment to be severe.”

  “It will be,” Enrico said, though he wasn’t sure of his course. Losing Ruggero, when he needed him most of all? Unacceptable. Though neither could he accept such a serious lapse.

  They settled themselves in the car, Ruggero up front with Pino. Antonio rode in the other car with Claudio and Santino. Kate huddled against the door, cradling the plastic bag that held her plant in her lap. When Enrico reached for her hand, she allowed him to hold it only briefly.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I hate this. I really hate this.”

  “By ‘this’ you mean?”

  She gestured around them. “The guards. The need for them. The fact that I can’t go home to my husband or my parents. The fact that my husband is trying to hunt me down, that I’m relying on the kindness of a relative stranger.” She took a breath. “Sorry, I’m ranting.”

  Enrico nodded. “You are upset. I would be too, in your position.”

  “You are in my position.”

  “Carlo Andretti has wanted me dead for most of my life. I suppose I have grown used to the idea.”

  “You’re awfully blasé about it.”

  “I assure you, I am anything but blasé when it comes to Carlo. At the same time, I cannot let him rattle me.”

  “So you think I’m overreacting?”

  Madonna. She was touchy. “No, I think you are reacting exactly how one would expect.” He stroked her hand. “There is nothing wrong with being frightened.”

  She made a small sound. Would she start crying again? But she swallowed it down and hastily wiped her eyes, looking out the window. “So I’m finally going to see the famed Lucchesi estate.”

  “I do not know how famous it is. But I think you will like staying there.”

  “Whenever I tell anyone where I work, they always ask if I’ve seen your place.”

  “When my father moved the family here, he wan
ted to establish a worthy home for generations of Lucchesis. He gave the villa to me as a wedding gift.”

  “Where did your family come from?”

  Merda. “Calabria.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “And you told me you weren’t part of the ‘Ndrangheta.”

  “Not all Calabrians belong to the ‘Ndrangheta.”

  “Just most of them?”

  He nodded, wanting to change the subject. “How did you meet your husband?”

  “At a party in New Jersey. He knew my cousins. They thought he was a good guy.” She snorted. “So did I.”

  “I am sure he has some good qualities. He must care for you a great deal to be this upset.”

  “Are you saying I should be happy he wants to kill me?”

  “In a way, I suppose.”

  She shook her head. “Are all Italians so screwed up?”

  He laughed. “The stereotypes are not entirely inaccurate. We are a passionate people.”

  “I hope you’re not saying his behavior was justified.”

  “Not at all. Just… not unexpected. Southern Italian men in particular are rather possessive and mindful of slights to their honor.”

  “And you—do you consider yourself southern or northern?”

  “Southern by blood, but northern by temperament. I was raised here. My father is disappointed I am not more like him.”

  Kate looked at him, her eyes soft. “I’m surprised he would feel that way.”

  Enrico shrugged. “He has his reasons.” He stared out the window. “Perhaps I would not be in this situation if I were more like him.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “If I had been more prudent, more careful about some of my choices….” He trailed off. That wasn’t really true, except for the decision he’d made today about Kate. And it was his father who’d gotten him in trouble in the first place, his father who’d made the decisions that had bound Enrico to the Andretti family. But he couldn’t fault his father. He’d probably have made the same choices.