Killer Romances

by Dana Delamar, Talullah Grace, Sandy Loyd, Kristine Mason, Dale Mayer, Nina Pierce Chantel Rhondeau, K. T. Roberts, H. D. Thomson, Susan Vaughan

  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 c
onsider. 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.”

  Enrico stiffened. He almost defended Dom, then let it go. “A GPS tracker?”

  Ruggero nodded. “If the men lose him, we’ll still be able to see where he goes.”

  They pulled up to the safe house a short while later. It was a nondescript apartment building. The bottom floor, which had been heavily fortified against attack, contained a small soundproofed room. That was where they headed.

  Trucco was handcuffed to a chair. Two guards sat opposite him, one smoking and playing solitaire at a small table pushed up against the wall, the other reading a newspaper. “Wait outside,” Enrico said to them.

  Franco’s jacket had been removed, and he slumped in the chair, his shirt patched with sweat. His gray hair was tousled into greasy clumps, and there was a scratch on his chin, a large bruise on one cheek. “Why am I here, Don Lucchesi?”

  Enrico took a seat a few feet from Trucco. He crossed his legs and leaned back. “You’ve been talking to Andretti.”

  Trucco swallowed. His eyes flicked to Ruggero, who stood by the wall, his hands loosely clasped in front of him. He’d donned a pair of black leather gloves, and Trucco couldn’t seem to stop staring at them.

  “Franco, we can do this hard, but I prefer easy. Out of respect for who you’ve been to my family, to me.”

  Trucco’s eyes shifted back to Enrico. “You killed my Fiammetta,” he hissed.

  Enrico averted his eyes, shame and guilt washing through him. “I know I don’t know your pain.”

  “You will.”

  Enrico looked up. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “You don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  “I do. You went digging. And you found something.”

  Something dark and nasty slid across Trucco’s face. “Did you think you could hide it from me forever? I’m your accountant, Don Lucchesi. I see where all the money goes. It was a mistake making separate payments to Tyrell for Clarkston’s education.”

  “Did Carlo tell you what he was going to do with this information?”

  Triumph shined in Trucco’s eyes. “He said you and yours would feel his wrath.”

  Enrico almost felt sorry for him. “I already knew all this. My son is safe.” Ruggero’s eyes snapped toward him, then darted away, the only sign he’d heard anything.

  “That’s not possible,” Trucco said.

  “I’m not the only one who’s been betrayed.” He looked to Ruggero and nodded. Ruggero pulled the bag with the tracking device out of his pocket and handed it to Enrico. Enrico held it up for Trucco to see. “What do you know about this?”

  Trucco leaned forward, peering at the bag. “What is it?”

  “A GPS tracking device.”

  “So?” Trucco shrugged.

  “It was placed on my car and used to ambush me.”

  Trucco’s face registered only surprise. “I know nothing about that.”

  Enrico stared at him. “You’re lying.”

  “A son for a daughter. That was my revenge. It wouldn’t work if you weren’t alive to suffer through it.”

  True. Still, he needed to be sure. He nodded to Ruggero and took a breath. He wouldn’t look away and he wouldn’t flinch.

  When Ruggero stepped forward, Trucco shrank back against the chair. “I swear, I had nothing to do with this. Just the boy.”

  A foot away from Trucco, Ruggero pulled a knife from his pocket. The switchblade opened with a click. Light gleamed on the sharp steel, drawing Enrico’s and Trucco’s eyes. Ruggero grabbed Trucco’s head in an elbow lock and pressed the blade into the flesh below the accountant’s right eye. “Shall I pluck out your eye with this, or with my fingers?” Ruggero asked, his voice low and menacing.

  Trucco shivered. “I swear. I don’t know anything.”

  Ruggero pushed the knife into the skin below the eye, drawing blood. Trucco whimpered. When Ruggero looked up at Enrico, Enrico nodded. Pressing the blade in deep, Ruggero drew it in a horizontal line below the eye. Blood welled up from the cut and dripped down Trucco’s face. This time Trucco screamed. “Shall I take the eye now, or later, hmm?” Ruggero asked Trucco.

  “I’ve told you what I’ve done. Why wouldn’t I admit to this?” Trucco looked at Enrico, his eyes pleading. “I’m dead either way.”

  Enrico stared at him, then he looked at Ruggero, who gave the barest shake of his head. Trucco had told them all he knew. It was disappointing, but perhaps they could still make some use of his death.

  He looked at Trucco, the man who had long been a friend to him and his family. “I’m sorry about Fiammetta. I tried to make amends to you.” He stood up. “Dom was right; I shouldn’t have shown such mercy when I knew the depths of your anger.” He straightened his cuffs. “You’ve left me no choice.”

  Trucco’s face reddened. “Someone lost the blood-alcohol test for you. Admit it.”

  “Going to prison for a mistake wouldn’t have punished me more than my own guilt.” He met Trucco’s eyes. “I am sorry.”

  “I wish I could see your face when you hear your son is dead. Carlo will get to him someday.”

  Heat boiled up in him, but he forced himself into Trucco’s hell. He forced himself to see the pain beneath the vengefulness. “I wish you to see your daughter again in heaven.” Then he walked across the room to the door and nodded sharply to Ruggero. “Finish it.” He turned away as the knife slashed across Trucco’s throat. It was done. It should have been done many months ago.

  He just hoped Nico wouldn’t pay the price for his guilty conscience.

  After they returned home from dealing with Trucco, Ruggero needed to change. And Enrico needed another drink. Though he felt bad about Trucco, that wasn’t the reason. He couldn’t stop reliving those last moments with Kate. And he still had the meeting with La Provincia to get through.

  Ruggero came for him a few hours later. Enrico had restrained himself to one drink. He needed his wits about him for this meeting. But it had been a fight to stay away from the bottle.

  “We must leave now,” Ruggero said. “Ready?”

  “Yes,” Enrico said, tightening up the tie he’d loosened earlier. What a liar I am. He was in no shape to appear before La Provincia. Seeing Kate today, of all days, had been a mistake. But he hadn’t been able to stay away.

  Enrico failed miserably in his attempts not to think about her during the drive to a house on the outskirts of Milan. Ordinarily, the meeting would have been in Calabria, in San Luca, home of Benedetto Andretti, and the seat of La Provincia. However, because Enrico wasn’t able to fly yet, the meeting had been moved to a home owned by the d’Imperios. That was one thing Enrico had insisted upon. He would not meet in any location controlled by the Andrettis.

  In addition to Ruggero, he had a driver and a second guard with him and two more cars of guards, one ahead and one behind. Ruggero sat in back with him instead of his usual seat up front. Enrico hated having to take such precautions, but he would not make himself an easy target.

  As they drove, Ruggero was his usual tight-lipped self, probably figuring it was best to say nothing. As irritated as he was with Antonio, Enrico could have used his easy chatter now. Anything to keep his mind off Kate turning him away for good.

  In a w
ay, he was almost relieved the waiting was over. He’d been dreading hearing those words from Kate, and he’d been dreading this meeting. If La Provincia was going to punish him or kill him, he wanted it over. And the way he felt right now, he’d welcome whatever they wished to do. He was tired of fighting, he was tired of all of it.

  Ruggero must have sensed his mood. As they neared their destination, he leaned toward Enrico. “May I say something?”

  Enrico was curious. He nodded.

  Ruggero pushed the button that raised a sheet of glass between them and the men up front. Despite the barrier, he kept his voice pitched low.

  “Signore, you have two children to fight for. Regardless of the signora. You have them.”

  It was the right thing to say, and the wrong thing too. “I don’t really have them. Nico hates me, and God knows if I’ll ever even see the other.”

  “Much can happen in a lifetime.”

  “Too much has happened already.” He leaned back against the seat.

  “Your children need you. Carlo will come at you through them. Will you allow that?”

  No. No. He was not going to bloody well allow that. He took a deep breath and sat up. Even if Kate didn’t want him, he needed to look out for his children. And her. No matter how she felt about him, he still loved her. And he’d sworn to protect her.

  And damn it, he needed to do something about Carlo. He’d just been sitting back, waiting for Carlo to make the next move, still unconsciously following his vow to Toni. That ended now. “Do you think we can make a move on Carlo here?”

  Ruggero’s brows flashed up. Then he smiled. “It’d be dangerous. We haven’t planned it.”

  “But he won’t be expecting it. Carlo will feel safe.”

  “True.” Ruggero thought for a moment. “If I see an opportunity, I’ll take it. But I won’t throw away our lives on a whim. Do we agree?”

  Enrico laughed, but it sounded forced, even to his own ears. “I’m not suicidal.”

  “I didn’t think you were.” But the look on Ruggero’s face said the opposite.