by Dana Delamar
Enrico held in a smirk. “However, a man like you—a thorough, honest man—should be noticed and rewarded. I’ll speak to Maggiore Alfonso.”
Fuente inclined his head. “I am in your debt.”
“And I am in yours.” Enrico clapped the man on the back. “Do we have an understanding?”
Fuente smiled. “We do.”
When they returned, Kate’s eyes darted between them, questions on her face.
“I apologize for the interruption,” Fuente said to her.
“It’s nothing.” She looked hard at Enrico. “What was that about?”
“My family was involved in a rather notorious case years ago.”
“What happened?”
Time for the truth. Kate couldn’t be frightened any more than she already was. “Carlo Andretti’s men assassinated my mother and my two brothers.”
She stared at him in shock. “You told me they died in an accident.”
“I didn’t want to alarm you. Carlo had intended to kill us all. But my father and I were both stricken with the flu and stayed home that day.”
There was silence for a moment while she absorbed the information. Then Fuente spoke. “What Signor Lucchesi has failed to mention is that the alleged assassins were all found dead some years later.”
Fuck. Enrico glared at Fuente. What kind of game is he playing? “I fail to see what that has to do with me.”
“Their deaths came shortly after your return from England. Right before you married Andretti’s daughter, I believe.”
“Yes. A few days before. But again, I fail to see the connection.”
“You’re right,” Fuente said. “Nothing was ever proven.”
“I was never even questioned. And I resent being accused now.”
“Am I accusing you?” Fuente asked, his voice mild.
Enrico took a deep breath. He’d taken the bait. Stupido.
“I was merely informing your…”—Fuente waved his hand at Kate—“houseguest of my interest in you.”
“Are you finished?” Enrico kept his voice neutral. “We both are exhausted.” To make his point, he took a sip of the steaming espresso Maddalena had brought in.
“My apologies.” Fuente turned to Kate. “Signora Andretti, please tell me what happened here.”
Kate recounted what had occurred and why. Enrico added details when she faltered or forgot them. Fuente nodded, asked questions, and took notes. “We’ll need physical evidence from both of you,” he said as he closed his notebook.
“We know. We haven’t even washed our hands,” Enrico said.
Fuente’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing to hide, yes?”
“I know how important it is to preserve evidence.”
“Of course you do, Signor Lucchesi. Of course you do.”
“Anyone who watches television knows that much.” His voice had more snap to it than he’d intended.
Fuente chuckled. “Touché, Signor Lucchesi.”
Kate looked sidelong at Enrico. Had he murdered the men who’d assassinated his family? She recoiled a bit, but part of her understood. The Old Testament ruled here: an eye for an eye. If Vince had killed her parents… yes, she’d have wanted him dead. But wanting it was one thing, doing it was another. She knew that now, all too well. Even so, the part of her that was appalled, horrified, by what she’d done was already drawing its last breath.
This world certainly wasn’t the one she’d grown up in. The rules were different; here the game had higher stakes than she could have ever imagined. And this was the only life Enrico had ever known. What would that do to a person? What part of him would wither and die, what part would blossom?
And yet—this man hadn’t let all his love and compassion go. She’d seen it in the way he treated the children at the orphanage, in the obvious affection he felt for Antonio, and in how he was with her, loving and gentle.
Enrico was different from her, yes. More ruthless, more practical. Perhaps even more realistic, though she’d accused him of not being so. But he wasn’t so alien that she couldn’t accept him.
Unless he was who Vince said he was.
She couldn’t love a man who killed for gain. That was a line she wouldn’t cross.
“Signora Andretti.” Fuente interrupted her thoughts. He motioned to a female officer standing in the doorway. “Brigadiere Clemente will take you to the hospital for examination.”
“I’d like Enrico to go with me.”
“Of course. We’ll need to take evidence from him as well.”
She got to her feet, grateful for Enrico’s hand at her elbow, for the solidity of his presence beside her. She hated needing him like this, hated feeling weak. But she was so tired.
They walked out to a waiting police car. Enrico helped her inside. “I need a word with Fuente before we leave,” he said, then he closed the door.
Turning to Fuente, Enrico laid a hand on the man’s shoulder and steered him a few steps away from everyone else. “You are a clever man, signore,” Enrico said.
Fuente grinned. “If I were a truly clever man, I would have recorded our conversation.”
“What do you want?”
The smile left his face. “What I asked for. And no more trouble in the district. This is my warning to you.”
Enrico stared at the man. “Understood. But hear me: you would much rather have me as a friend.”
“As would you.” Fuente placed his hat on his head and tipped the brim to Enrico. “This could be self-defense, it could be murder. You were lovers; he was her husband. It could go either way. Don’t forget that.” He smiled at Enrico. “Buona sera, Signor Lucchesi.” He turned and walked away.
Enrico watched him for a moment, then he got in the car. He didn’t want to alarm Kate, but Fuente was trouble. He could feel it in his bones.
CHAPTER 14
At the hospital, Kate refused to be separated from Enrico, insisting they be examined in the same room. Enrico tolerated the doctor’s exam—the x-ray of his head, the photographing and cataloguing of his injuries—without protest. But his stomach churned during Kate’s entire exam. Though she barely reacted when the doctor photographed the marks on her face and when he took samples from under her fingernails, she flinched when he asked if he could inspect the rest of her body. With tears in her eyes, she nodded, and Enrico gritted his teeth as the doctor scrutinized the bite mark on her breast, swabbing it for Vince’s saliva, as he parted her legs and studied the bruising on her inner thighs. But the exam and collection of evidence was necessary to keep her out of prison. For anything less, he would have spared her the intrusion.
The doctor, a balding middle-aged man with a kind face, photographed the bite and the bruises, draping her with a sheet when possible to preserve her modesty. When he finished, he removed his glasses, closed his eyes, and rubbed the bridge of his nose while asking his next question. “Signora, were you violated?”
Enrico held his breath until she shook her head. “No. It was damn close though.”
The doctor replaced his glasses and smiled, patting her arm. “Are there any other injuries?” When Kate said no, the doctor wrote her a prescription for Valium, then left them alone.
No matter how careful the doctor had been, how gentle, how respectful, the exam had continued Kate’s violation. Enrico had never felt more helpless. He’d been able do nothing other than hold her hand and dry her tears with his fingertips. After he helped her dress, she leaned against him for a moment and whispered, “Thank you.” Her gratitude made his eyes burn and his throat ache. He hadn’t kept her safe. He’d broken his promise.
When they returned home, he helped her into a warm bath. Then he turned to go, to give her privacy at last, but she grabbed his wrist, her hand wet and slick on his skin. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”
He sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. “I’ll stay.” She soaped her arms while he watched. “Do you want help?”
She shook her head, not looking at him. After a moment, sh
e said, “What was going on with you and Fuente?”
A tingle of adrenaline shivered through him. He’d thought she would shut down, but she’d kept her head. It was admirable, and a bit frightening. “Fuente wants help getting a promotion. I am friends with Major Alfonso, who heads the Milan branch.”
“Will you help him?”
“I would be stupid not to.” She studied him with steady eyes. What was she thinking?
“Were you bribing him?”
Enrico raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected the question, but he should have. Kate was far from dumb. “A man can be bribed only if he wants to be.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He smiled. She should have been a prosecutor. “The answer is no.”
“The two of you were keeping something from me.”
Enrico looked at the floor tiles. “Just the details of how my family was killed.”
“Why? Was it really so horrific?”
Enrico fixed her with his stare, his anger hot and sudden. Words poured out of him. “Was it horrific? My mother, my brothers, they were slaughtered like animals. Mario was only eleven. It was his birthday. They shot him over and over as he tried to crawl away.”
Kate gasped, tears glittering in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Enrico.” She reached for him, but he ignored her hand. After a moment, she let it fall to the edge of the tub.
He couldn’t stop talking. “Andretti’s men left them lying in the street. Carlo took advantage of my father’s trust. He murdered them, women and children. He violated our codes—” He froze, his veins icing up.
“Our codes?” Kate asked.
“I mean as Calabrians. Women and children are not to be killed in disputes of any kind.”
She lowered her arms and sank down in the water until just her head was visible. Her eyes never left him. “Vince wasn’t lying, was he? And Fuente knows it too.”
Panic roared through him. It took all he had to hide it from her. “Vincenzo was lying.”
“Why would Fuente think you would help him get a promotion?”
“The police are underpaid. If you have money, they always try to get something from you.”
“I thought you said you didn’t bribe him.”
“Which is the truth. He extorted a promise from me.”
“Semantics.”
“I beg to differ. I offered him nothing. He made a demand, and I agreed to it.”
“Why?”
“I prefer to keep out of the papers. The less attention I attract, the better.”
Kate crossed her arms. “I told you I hated lies.”
He took a deep breath and let it out. “And I don’t like telling them.” He unbuttoned and rolled up one of his shirt cuffs. “But sometimes honesty is more trouble than it is worth.”
Kate’s mouth dropped open. “How can you say that?”
She was far more difficult to evade than he would have ever guessed. “It’s been a long day and I need a drink. Would you like something?”
“Giving yourself time to think, I see. Are you trying to distract me?”
He smiled. Ah, she was a hard one. What a woman. “Yes, I am.”
“I’m not a fool, Enrico.”
“I never said you were.”
“Treating me like one says it just the same.” He felt her gaze on him as he fiddled with a button on his shirt.
He looked her square in the eye. “There are certain… realities of my situation that I would prefer to tell you about in my own time. When you are ready to hear them.”
“You mean when I have such feelings for you that I can’t overlook them? I already made that mistake once. I won’t make it again.”
“I am not like Vincenzo.”
“No. You’re worse.” Her voice thickened.
A wave of heat tore through his body. “Why?”
“You’re kind to me, and thoughtful, and… and if I can’t accept what you’re hiding from me….” She dissolved into tears. “It’s just not fair of you.”
The heat in him dissipated. “I promise I am nothing like him.”
“How do I know that?”
He leaned forward and took her wrists, tugging her upwards in the bath, baring her chest. He traced his fingers over the bite mark on her left breast. “I would never do this to you.” He touched her jaw, tracing the bruise there. “Or this.” He looked pointedly at her belly beneath the water. “And I would never take something from you that you did not want to give.” He cleared his throat, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. “I resent you comparing me to him.”
She blinked away her tears and took a deep breath. “You’re lying to me about something. Just like he did.”
“Can you trust me, for a while longer?”
“I don’t have much choice, do I? Fuente has my passport.”
“I owe the man.” Enrico smiled, hoping to coax one from her.
She sighed and sat back, looking down at the soap bubbles that covered her. “Even if I could go, Carlo is waiting to pounce on me.”
“For once, I suppose I have something to thank Carlo for.”
Kate studied him. “You do care about me.”
“I do,” he said, warmth welling up in his chest. Yes, she was difficult. But he liked it. He liked her. He liked sparring with her, he liked that she didn’t take him at face value. He liked everything about her, even when she was impossible.
“I cannot imagine going back to the life I was leading before this happened. To the dead spot after Antonella. My life will lose all color again if you leave, Kate.” He extended his hand and she took it. “I know it has been horrible for you, but it will get better. I promise you that.”
She smiled at him. “It hasn’t all been horrible.” She squeezed his hand and yawned. “I desperately need some sleep. What time is it?”
He pulled his mobile phone from his pocket and looked at it. “Almost seven in the morning.” He set the phone on the counter. “Here, let me help you.” He reached for the washcloth in her hand.
She kept it from his grasp, her grin fading. “No. Not yet.” She stared at the bathwater.
His throat constricted. It was a good thing Vincenzo Andretti was already dead. Because he wouldn’t have been able to resist strangling him with his bare hands.
After Enrico got Kate bundled up in bed with the Valium the doctor had prescribed, he summoned Ruggero to his study. He wanted nothing more than to focus on Kate for the next few days to the exclusion of all else, but their safety was paramount. And that meant finding the traitor—and figuring out who they could trust—as soon as possible.
As much as he hated to do it, Enrico armed himself for the meeting, his Glock in hand under his desk. Just in case.
Dawn was approaching, a faint yellowy orange on the horizon, the plants of the garden slowly taking shape in the growing light. He felt so damn weary. It wasn’t just the loss of sleep. It was the accumulation of all the years of his existence, of the constant struggle against enemies without and within the ‘Ndrangheta. The never-ending vigilance of his life—guarding so many secrets, telling so many lies. And beyond that, making so many decisions that meant life and death, misery or happiness, for so many people. The weight of it all threatened to crush him.
But today, more than the responsibility wearied him. He’d been betrayed from within, by someone he trusted, maybe even someone he loved. If he had no one to rely on, no one to trust, how could he possibly go on? How could he survive? How could he ever keep Kate safe?
After a tap on the open door, Ruggero walked in.
“Close the door.” He didn’t invite Ruggero to sit. He said nothing, waiting for Ruggero to break the silence.
Finally the guard said, “I assume you want to know how this happened.”
“And I’d like to know where Antonio was. Is.” Enrico listened to Ruggero’s explanation—the drugged dogs, the access by master code of the side gate and rear terrace, all timed to avoid the guards. “What about Antonio?”
“He met a girl. We were in for the night; it seemed safe to let him go.”
“Are you sure that’s what he was doing? Only four of us have the master code—you, me, Dom, and Antonio.”
Ruggero frowned. “I’m certain of Antonio.”
“Someone gave Andretti the master code. Is it possible it was anyone besides the four of us?”
Ruggero shrugged. “You pay him well, but someone could get to Strasser. And we haven’t been meticulous about shielding when entering the code. Someone may have learned it.”
“Do you think that likely?”
“I do not see an obvious suspect.” Ruggero looked at him steadily.
“You don’t?” Enrico asked, his voice sharp.
The guard’s brow furrowed. “Don Lucchesi, I’m not sure what you’re implying.”
Enrico’s heart was pumping fast; he could feel the pulse in his fingers where they gripped the gun. His hand tightened, and he angled the gun at Ruggero’s knees. “Those lapses on your part. I’m not sure they were mistakes.”
For the first time in their long acquaintance, Ruggero looked at Enrico with anger on his face.
“Don’t I pay you enough?”
Ruggero reddened. “The Velas, we are an honorable family. I took a vow to you, to this cosca, and I am no oath breaker. Money does not motivate me.”
“Then what does?”
Ruggero’s already low voice deepened. “I am a man of honor. My reputation is all I have. I am not a man who will ever be don. I do not want to be don. I live to serve the don. That is my job, that is who I am. That is all I will ever be.”
Enrico started to speak, but Ruggero held up a hand. “I have something more to say. My father and I followed your family from Calabria. We left everything behind. My father died protecting yours. When do you think I last saw my cousins, my sister?”
The switch of subjects baffled Enrico. “I don’t know.”
“Fifteen years ago, not since becoming your personal guard.”
“You haven’t asked for time off.”
“My point is this: I’ve given my life over to yours. Perhaps I have already died for you.”
“Is this what’s been bothering you?”
