Revenge

by Dana Delamar

  She hoped for his sake that Enrico was the right choice. But she couldn’t take that risk herself. Not with the baby along for the ride. No, she had to be much more steely-eyed.

  She waited for him to close the door, then she picked up her phone. Time to call Dom. Her stomach rolled over. Time to find out if she was on her own.

  CHAPTER 28

  Enrico paced his study again, certain he was wearing a hole in the Aubusson carpet. He hated this waiting. Waiting for the traitor to be caught. Waiting for Carlo to make a move. Waiting for Kate to leave.

  Waiting for his world to crumble.

  He threw himself into the chair, then leaned forward, propping his elbows on the desk and loosely clasping his hands in front of his face. He pressed his lips against his hands, stifling the urge to cry out, to let loose his misery at losing Kate. At losing everything. He didn’t see how he could stand it if she didn’t come back to him. If something happened to her or the child. If he lost her for good.

  Losing Toni had been a horrible blow. He couldn’t bear another one, ever. Certainly not this soon.

  His chest felt empty, hollow, again. Dead inside. He passed a hand over his aching left side, feeling the bandage that still protected the stitches. He’d taken a bullet for Kate, and he’d do it again. He’d do whatever it took to have her back, to keep her safe. To get her to love him again.

  He closed his eyes, tears welling up, his throat aching. He sagged in the chair, feeling like he’d lost every ounce of strength he’d ever possessed. He was drained, done, over with. He couldn’t go on without her. He just could not.

  He rubbed a hand over his eyes, willing himself not to cry. He hadn’t given vent to his anguish over Kate. He couldn’t allow himself to. Not even when Antonio reported her tears to him. If he let himself go, if he loosened the bonds holding him together, he might never stop weeping.

  He had to keep going. He had to find the traitor and destroy him. He had to save the cosca. And he had to face Carlo Andretti tonight, before all of La Provincia.

  He had to do these things for all the people depending on him. For all the people who looked to him for protection from Carlo.

  So he held on to a glimmer of hope. But that glimmer grew fainter every day she didn’t call, every day she didn’t return to his home.

  He should go see her, should plead his case. He wondered how she’d receive him. Butterflies in his stomach, he picked up the phone. Antonio could tell him how she was, whether she might see him.

  Antonio picked up on the second ring. “Tonio, how is she?” He noticed a slight hesitation on Antonio’s part, and his pulse quickened.

  “She vomited from the baby.”

  “But she’s all right?”

  “Sì.”

  He relaxed. He waited a second, then said, “I’m thinking of coming to see her.”

  Antonio hesitated again. “I spoke to her about you today.”

  “What did she say?”

  Antonio let out a breath. “She thinks you killed the judge and his family.”

  Merda. Enrico felt queasy. “Did you tell her I didn’t?”

  “Of course. I told her you believe in the old codes. I think maybe she believed that.”

  “So there’s some hope?”

  Again, Antonio hesitated. “Sì, some.”

  It wasn’t much, but he had to try. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

  Enrico showered and shaved. He hadn’t taken much care with his appearance since Kate had left. He took care with his clothes as well, choosing a dark blue suit he knew she liked, deliberately playing the peacock: diamond tie pin, platinum cufflinks, the signet ring with the Lucchesi crest, his best watch.

  He looked at himself in the mirror. To the unobservant, he might be the same man he’d been before. But to anyone who looked closely, the wear of the days without her showed in the circles under his eyes, in the hollowness of his stare. He took a deep breath, willing himself to have hope.

  A Lucchesi always got what he wanted. Enrico wasn’t about to be the exception.

  Dom heard his mobile phone ring. He looked at the display, but since he didn’t recognize the number, he let it go to voice mail. Then Dom picked up another phone, one he was certain wasn’t tapped, and used it to check the mobile’s voice mail. He listened to the message, unable to believe his good fortune. He scribbled down the number the caller left, then dialed it. When she answered, he said, “Ciao, Kate. It’s Domenico. Where are you calling from? This isn’t Enrico’s number.”

  “He hasn’t told you?”

  “Told me what?”

  “I’ve left him.”

  Most interesting. And alarming. Enrico should have told him. “Why?”

  “He’s lied to me too many times. He’s done things I can’t condone.”

  “What has upset you so much?”

  “He killed a judge and his family. As I’m sure you know.”

  So Carlo’s plan was in motion. “There is more to it than you know.”

  “I don’t care about the details. He’s guilty. You should have seen his face when Fuente told him they’d found the missing murder weapon.” She paused. “And I’m sure I know how it ended up missing in the first place.”

  “Sometimes unfortunate choices have to be made in this business.”

  “Murdering innocent people isn’t an unfortunate choice.”

  “Why have you called me?”

  He heard her take a deep breath. “I have to leave the country. I need a fake passport, a fake American social security number, and transportation to the nearest train station.”

  “Enrico would gladly help you with that.”

  “I don’t want him to know where I’ll be.”

  “So it is final then?” he asked.

  He heard a new firmness in her voice. “Yes.”

  “Why do you think I won’t tell him where you are?”

  “Because you don’t want us together.”

  Dom held his breath for a second, debating. “That is true.”

  “I just want to disappear. After I’m safely away, I’ll tell Enrico I’ve lost the baby. Then he’ll marry Delfina Andretti, and everything can go back to the way it was supposed to be. I know how to keep my mouth shut, and I don’t know anything of substance anyways. However, I’m not stupid; I know you’re not supposed to let me go. So I have an incentive for you to help me.”

  “Which is?”

  “I ran across something interesting while transcribing records at the orphanage. I know about the adoption you arranged. And I know the mother’s name. I’ve written letters to several people that will be delivered if something happens to me. I’m sure you don’t want this information to get out.”

  Dom clamped his jaw shut to keep from shouting and took a deep breath through his nose. Fucking nosy bitch. She was willing to ruin his family. And that couldn’t happen. He didn’t speak until he felt he could keep his voice even. “I would prefer that matter to remain private, as I was promised.”

  “Desperate times….” Her voice trailed off. “Do we have a deal?”

  He smiled, then straightened his face to keep it out of his voice. She wouldn’t like the reason he was smiling. “We do.”

  He could practically hear Kate sigh in relief. “So what happens next?”

  “I need to make arrangements. Call me at this number in two days.”

  They said their goodbyes, then he snapped the phone shut.

  This was an unexpected and welcome opportunity. He had something Carlo wanted very much. Despite the complications—which he was sure he could deal with—his heart filled with glee. Carlo wouldn’t get Kate cheap. Far from it.

  The cost of having her would be Andretti’s downfall.

  The guards seemed startled to see Enrico outside the suite. Tommaso knocked on the door, and Antonio opened it a moment later and gestured him inside. Enrico glanced at the closed door that joined the rooms. “Is she still resting?”

  “I assume so. She’s been quiet.�
�

  He walked to the door and raised his hand to knock. He’d almost turned and said “May I?” to Antonio, but caught himself. Antonio had no claim to her. Enrico did. And he was going to exercise it. He tapped at the door, then heard her saying come in, the sound thrilling through him, like a shiver. How he’d missed the music of her voice.

  He eased the door open, slipping inside. Kate lay on her back, propped up on some pillows, her eyes closed. They opened as he shut the door and approached. He studied her, looking for some clue to her feelings. Her eyes widened and her lips parted. A flush came into her cheeks. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her tone edged with steel.

  He stopped where he was. “Antonio said you were ill.”

  She waved her hand in the air. “It’s nothing. Some morning sickness. I made the mistake of having anchovies on my salad.”

  Enrico smiled. What had she been thinking? “I thought you hated them.”

  “I do. But I was craving the salt.” She reddened.

  “You could have put salt on the salad.”

  She looked up at him. “I know. I thought maybe some extra protein….” She trailed off. “Why are we talking about this?”

  He lost his smile. “Because it is easier than talking about other things.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss.” She maneuvered herself to sit on the edge of the bed.

  The careful slowness of her movements sent a spike of alarm into his gut. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded. “Just a little dizzy.”

  “Have you eaten or drunk anything since you were sick?”

  “A little water.”

  He walked past her and picked up the receiver for the bedside phone. “You need to eat something. How about penne with chicken and a little olive oil and parmesan?”

  “That sounds good.”

  He called room service and ordered for her. Then he pulled up a chair so he could sit near the bed. “Kate, you need to take care of yourself.”

  She made a face. “Not you too. I already have one mother hen in Antonio.”

  “We just want you to be well.” He sat back in the chair. He wanted to ask if she still loved him. But he couldn’t do that. “Antonio tells me the doctor says you can leave in three weeks. Do you know where you will go?”

  Her eyes iced over. That had been the wrong question to ask. “Where I go or what I do is no business of yours.”

  As her anger added bricks to the wall of tension building between them, he lowered his gaze to the carpet and made his voice soft. “I worry about what will happen once you are no longer in my care. Carlo has not forgotten about you.”

  “I’m well aware of that.” Her shoulders hunched as she spoke.

  He reached out, touching her knee. “I just want you safe. Even if you are no longer mine. Even if I never…” His throat tightened, and he had to pause for a few seconds before he could continue. “Even if I never see our baby. I want you both to be safe.” He let his hand drop from her. Stop it. He’d get her back, he would. He couldn’t lose another woman he loved. He couldn’t let this child grow up without him.

  Kate’s eyes welled. “I’m working on a plan. I’ll be safe.”

  He wiped his eyes, not looking at her, and sniffed hard. “I miss you,” he ventured, his throat tight again, making his voice unsteady. Dio, he was losing control.

  “I miss you, too.” Her voice was soft, and he heard a quaver in it.

  When he saw the sadness in her eyes, he wanted to wipe it away, to make her smile again. He had to try. He took her hand. “You must believe me. I can prove to you I am innocent.”

  Kate’s hand went taut in his. “Stop there. You’ve told me so many lies, I can’t take another.”

  “It is no lie. I swear to you.” Why couldn’t she see that?

  She shook her head. “You’re good at giving me pretty speeches, but not the truth.”

  “Cara, I am telling the truth. I have not lied to you since the hospital.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek. “This whole situation is so impossible. If I don’t stay with you, you’re supposed to kill me. How can we ever be honest with each other when that’s the case?”

  Sadness ripped through him. It was a horrible situation he’d gotten her into. “Forget that. I have told you I will not do it. I will let you leave if you must.”

  “Please stop. Just stop.” She closed her eyes and pulled her hand from his. “It’s over, Rico. Accept it. This is the end for us.”

  Pain seared through his chest and into his gut, as if he’d taken a bullet. Heart attack? He pressed a fist to his chest and took a deep breath. No. Just shock. He abruptly stood and turned away from her. Do something. The door. Go to the door. When he touched the handle, he paused. This might be the last time he ever saw her.

  It can’t end like this. But he couldn’t bear to let her see his face. He took a deep breath, forcing his voice to be steady, though it was still thick. He spoke to the slab of dark wood in front of him. “You will always have money, protection, whatever you need. And if you ever change your mind, I will be waiting for you.” His mouth dried up, the words he most wanted to say sticking in his throat. I love you, Kate.

  “Rico.” Her voice broke, and his eyes pricked with tears. “Be careful.” Without thinking, he turned and strode to her, pulling her up into his arms and kissing her. For a moment she yielded and kissed him back, then she went rigid in his arms. No. He pulled back and studied her face, the tears streaming down her cheeks, the broken look in her eyes. A look he’d put there.

  A great black hole opened in his chest, and he slipped into it, falling. He’d lost. With his thumbs, he swiped her tears away, his fingers tangling in the wet strands of hair that clung to her skin. This was the last time, the last time he’d ever touch her. Dropping his hands from her, he stumbled back towards the door. He opened his mouth to say something, but there were no words to put things right. “Take care, cara.”

  He waited a moment for her to say something, to stop him, then he turned the knob, not wanting to hear more of the awful silence that was her answer.

  Mute with anguish, Kate stared at Enrico’s back as he walked out. She’d ended it. She could never unsay those words, those awful words. This is the end for us. And she could never take him back, or she’d never be able to leave him again.

  Her chest ached, and once she heard the outer door close, once she knew he was gone, she gave full vent to her tears, not caring if Antonio heard her sobs. Not caring about anything else. She’d just about killed herself turning away the man she loved.

  The man she loved, but could never trust.

  CHAPTER 29

  For the first time in his life, Enrico understood why people committed suicide. If he’d been the one behind the wheel on the drive home, he would have wrecked. And he probably wouldn’t have cared.

  His grief when Toni died was but half of this horrible ache, this gnawing despair. Toni’s death had been something of a relief, her loss tempered by the fact that she was out of misery, that they’d had a long happy marriage together. But Kate—she’d rejected him. And she was taking their child with her. Another child he wouldn’t get to love, another child who’d grow up hating him. Another child lost.

  What more was Carlo Andretti going to cost him?

  When they pulled up to the house, Enrico opened the car door himself, not wanting further contact with the driver or Santino, or any of the guards in the other car pulling up behind them. He hurried into the house, heading straight for the study. He poured himself a full glass of sambuca and took a large gulp, letting the sweet liqueur burn down his throat. He drained the glass and poured another. He paced around the room for a while, idly looking out the windows at the garden’s fading splendor. Autumn crept in more every day. The leaves were turning, drying up, withering. He felt the same way.

  A knock at the door startled him. It was Ruggero. Perhaps a distraction would help. “Come in.”

  The discomfort on Ruggero
’s face said that he knew. No doubt Antonio had told him. The boy meant well, but sometimes he went too far. “What?” Enrico snapped, his voice a blade.

  Ruggero paused, obviously weighing his words. Enrico drilled his eyes into the guard, willing him not to mention it. Finally Ruggero said, “We’ve picked up Trucco. We confirmed he’s had contact with Carlo.”

  Good man. He can read my mind now. He softened his voice. “Where is he?”

  “Milan. At one of the safe houses.”

  “What has he told you?”

  “Nothing. Yet. He says he’ll speak only to you.”

  Cristo. Not now. Maybe he could let Ruggero handle it. But the don who couldn’t deal with unpleasant though necessary realities had no business being in charge. He looked at his watch. The meeting with La Provincia was hours away, and dealing with Trucco meant he didn’t have to think about Kate. “Let’s go then.”

  In the car, Enrico tried to steel himself for what was coming. Death was the price for treason to one’s don. Obedience and loyalty to one’s cosca and to the ‘Ndrangheta were paramount. Traitors could not be tolerated.

  A lingering doubt niggled at Enrico. There was still Dom to consider. Dom, who’d done nothing but argue with him lately. Dom, who’d threatened his job. Dom, who’d tried to poison Don Battista against him. Dom’s reasons were sound, his intentions focused on the good of the cosca, but still…. “Can you tie Trucco to the tracking device?” he asked Ruggero.

  Ruggero kept his eyes on the road. “There were no fingerprints.”

  Fuck. It was too much to hope for. “Have you pulled the men watching Dom?” Ruggero looked at him. They had to be thinking the same thing. “You’re not convinced it’s Trucco,” Enrico said.

  “He’s only part of it.”

  “You may be right.”

  “I’ll keep the men in place until we’re sure.” Ruggero paused. “And I’ve decided to use the traitor’s own tricks against Don Domenico.”