“Be quiet,” he warned her.
Enrico’s voice, cold and low, cut through the room. “If anyone here has a right to vendetta, it is me. You killed my mother and my brothers. You tortured and murdered my father.” Enrico’s voice shook when he continued. “You took pleasure in it.” Enrico heard Kate’s gasp at his words, but he couldn’t look at her, couldn’t risk her sympathy making him break down.
A slight smile curved Carlo’s lips. “How could I not? Rinaldo earned his death long ago. He tried to make me look like a fool.”
“And so this is my punishment, for making you the fool in front of La Provincia?”
Carlo’s eyes went dead, his face still. “That is not what happened.”
“Is that so? I heard laughter. Laughter at you.”
So fast he almost didn’t see it, Carlo’s arm came up, the gun aimed directly at Enrico’s chest. Kate screamed and Enrico fired. Carlo fell to the floor, blood pouring from his right shoulder, the gun falling from his hand.
Enrico stepped toward Carlo, coming to stand over him. “You killed everyone I loved. You pushed me into a life I never wanted for myself or my children.” Enrico’s throat tightened, his voice thickening. “You have taken everything from me, Carlo, but that stops today.”
He smiled up at Enrico. “But it does not end here. You will owe my son a father.”
“I think it a fair exchange for his hand.”
Carlo’s eyes widened. Enrico smiled. “He never told you that, did he? Yes, my father wanted to take the whole hand, to make you pay for what you did to my mother, to my brothers. But I stopped him.” He glanced at Dario, then looked back at Carlo. “Dario is not the weak man you think he is. He never was. He knows when to fight, and he knows when to stop. It is a pity you never learned the difference.”
Carlo looked at Dario; something Enrico didn’t understand passed between them in that look. Then Carlo’s eyes turned back to Enrico, and he smiled up at him and laughed, wincing with pain when his shoulder moved. “You are so blind, in so many ways, Lucchesi. You do not even know where you are weak. The day will soon arrive when you are overrun. A fine day it will be.”
Enrico raised his gun. “I have owed you this bullet for twenty-eight years. It is well past time you received it.” He squeezed the trigger, saw Carlo jerk once, then watched dark blood well out of a hole in his forehead.
It was finished, over at last. Something coiled tight inside Enrico let go. His eyes welled with tears, his throat closed up. Papà should have lived to see this day. If only he’d acted sooner….
Wiping his eyes on his sleeve, Enrico turned to Dario, who was still holding the gun to Kate’s temple. He took a steadying breath. “Am I right about you, Dario? Will you return the mercy I showed you?”
Dario looked down at his father, his face contorted with a mix of emotions. Then he nodded and released Kate, putting up his gun. “It ends here,” he said, his voice choked. He took a breath, then looked hard at Enrico. “But a price must be paid.”
“Name it.”
“Two million euros, plus your holdings in Rome.”
Enrico blinked, staggered at what Dario was asking for. He countered. “Two million euros, plus the meatpacking business in Milan.”
“I was not aware this would be a negotiation. I have named my blood price.”
Enrico held his gaze. “And I have just made you the head of the Andretti cosca.” He paused before his next words, treading gently. “Something we both know Carlo never intended.”
Dario’s mouth twisted. “Two million euros, half of what you hold in Milan, and half of the lake.”
Enrico almost laughed. Dario was a cocky bastard. “You are outgunned, and it would be very much to my advantage to eliminate you. Must I?”
Dario shrugged, a glint coming into his eyes. “I had to try. I am my father’s son after all.” He chuckled, staring into the middle distance. “I never thought I would say that.” Then he looked back at Enrico. “Two million euros, the meatpacking business, and the Turro district.”
“Done.” This would cost him dearly, and it would weaken the cosca. But if it brought peace, the price was worth it. He held out his hand. “Are we friends now?”
Dario took his hand, holding his gaze. “We are not friends. But neither are we enemies.”
Enrico felt the missing finger in Dario’s grip. “I shall have to settle for that.”
With a nod, Dario let go of Enrico’s hand. “My debt to you has been repaid.”
Enrico watched him leave the room. Then he turned his eyes to Kate, free to look at her at last. She was only half dressed, blood clotted on her cheek, her hair wild about her face. A wicked cut spilled blood down her forearm. She started to tremble when he looked at her, then she ran into his arms. He pulled her close, squeezing her tight. Tears streamed down her face. “I love you, I love you, Rico,” she said, choking out the words.
He looked at Ruggero over her shoulder, signaling him to leave. Once Ruggero was gone, Enrico let his own tears fall, for Kate, for his father, for Paolo. He pulled back from her, taking her face in his hands. She’d forgiven him. He hadn’t dared hope for it. “I was so afraid I’d never see you again.”
She stretched up on her toes to kiss him. “I knew you’d come for me.”
“You did?”
Kate squinted up at him. She swayed in his arms, and he tightened them around her. “I’m not going to last much longer,” she said, then she was dead weight in his arms. She’d collapsed.
CHAPTER 37
Fear spiked through Enrico’s chest. Kate was breathing, but he couldn’t seem to keep her awake for long, no matter what he did to rouse her.
Leaving Ruggero in charge of cleaning up the scene, Enrico grabbed Tommaso, who drove him and Kate to Dottor Beltrami’s clinic. Enrico called Beltrami en route and explained Kate’s condition.
The cut on her face was deep, but tiny. The one on her arm was more worrisome. Enrico applied considerable pressure to slow the bleeding, but it wouldn’t quite stop.
Kate didn’t seem to care. She was still dazed when they got to the clinic. He carried her inside, a pillowcase wrapped around her arm. Beltrami met him at the door.
“Something’s wrong with her. She’s been in and out.”
“Was there a head injury?” Beltrami asked as Enrico laid her on the bed.
“Not that I know of.”
The doctor motioned Enrico away. He took Kate’s pulse, then pushed one of her eyelids up with his thumb and shined a penlight in it. He checked the other eye.
“I think she’s been drugged,” Beltrami said. “Her pupils are dilated.” He examined her head, and found the bump at her temple. “Someone struck her, hard.” He frowned. “I’ll take an x-ray of this. If the signora has no skull fracture, we may be able to avoid the hospital.”
Enrico bent over Kate and winced. Beltrami put a hand on his upper arm. “Are you hurt?”
“Cracked rib.” He let out a little huff of amusement. “Same one I got shot in.”
“I’ll look at it later.”
Enrico shook Kate gently. “Mia cara. Wake up, per favore.”
Finally she opened her eyes and looked at him. “What?”
“We’re at the clinic.” Her eyes immediately started to close, and Enrico shook her again. “Kate, did they give you something?”
She looked at him, her brow creased. “What?”
“Did they drug you?”
Her face relaxed and she nodded. “Roofies.”
“Roofies?” It was Enrico’s turn to be confused.
Beltrami leaned in, shaking her again before her eyes closed completely. “Rohypnol?” he asked.
She mumbled yes. She was about to close her eyes again, but she fought to stay conscious. “The baby—will it be all right?”
Beltrami nodded. “I think so.”
Enrico pulled him aside after Kate’s eyes closed again. “Is that the truth?”
“Most likely the baby won’t be aff
ected by a one-time exposure.” Then the doctor added, “She’s strong, Don Lucchesi, and she’s young. If something does go wrong....” Beltrami frowned and looked down at the tile beneath their feet. “She can have another.”
Enrico nodded, but the doctor’s words weren’t much consolation. He’d suffered through enough miscarriages with Antonella to know that it was still a death. A death of hope, of possibility. The baby wasn’t just a maybe, a could be. This child already existed for both of them. Kate had already been through so much. Would their relationship survive such a loss?
Ruggero, Claudio, and Santino stayed behind to clean up—despite the gloves, they wiped down and threw all their weapons into the woods. Then they gathered up Paolo’s body and wrapped it in a sheet. Ruggero did his best with some bleach he found in the kitchen to erase the traces of Paolo’s and the signora’s blood, but it was a difficult task. Paolo’s DNA wasn’t on file with the polizia, but the signora’s was, so Ruggero took Carlo’s clothes in case any of her blood had spilled on them. At the last minute, he thought to take the water glass, the pitcher, and the ashtray as well.
Dario Andretti sat on the stairs next to Massimo’s body, waiting for them to leave. He pulled out his mobile phone at one point, but Ruggero gave him a hard look until he put it back in his pocket. Regardless of what Enrico had decided, Ruggero would put a bullet in Dario if need be. They both knew that.
When they were done, Ruggero walked to the foot of the stairs. “We’re leaving.”
Dario pulled out his phone. “May I?”
Ruggero nodded. “I haven’t left anything for the carabinieri.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Dario gave him a half smile. “I’m torching the place.”
With a last glance around, Ruggero left the house, the scent of bleach and gunpowder burning in his nose.
They tossed the water pitcher, the glass, and the ashtray into the woods several miles away. Carlo’s clothes they would burn. And Paolo they would leave in an alley in Milan. Ruggero regretted that, but it was Paolo’s laxness that got them into this mess. In a few hours, he would place an anonymous call to tip off the polizia to Paolo’s body. It was the best he could do for the boy.
Enrico didn’t relax until Beltrami had x-rayed Kate’s head and hooked her up to machines to monitor her heart rate and her breathing.
“How is she?”
Beltrami looked at the readout. “Her oxygen level is a little low, but it’s adequate.” He turned away from Kate and placed the x-ray on the light box on the wall. “No fracture. She could have a concussion, so ideally she should be awake, but with the drug....” He shrugged helplessly. “At least it will make it easier for her when I put the stitches in.”
The doctor worked quickly, using surgical glue to close the wound on her face, but he had to use many stitches on her arm. “I’m afraid she’ll have a scar. I’m no plastic surgeon.”
“Her face will be fine, though? I’m sure that’ll be her major concern.”
“The wound on her cheek was small, so there should be no noticeable scarring.” Beltrami motioned Enrico up onto a table. “Now let’s take a look at you.”
Enrico shrugged out of his jacket and shirt. Beltrami prodded his ribs, listened to his lungs, then x-rayed him. “Will I live?” Enrico joked, as the doctor looked over the x-ray.
“Sì, but two ribs are cracked. I’ll give you something for the pain.”
Enrico watched Kate while Beltrami rummaged through a locked cabinet. She looked so pale, so still. If it weren’t for the beeping of the monitor and the light rise and fall of her chest, he’d have thought she was dead. The thought pierced him—she’d come so close. So very close. It was all his fault for not acting more decisively. Was he being a fool all over again, trusting Dario to keep his word?
Passing up the opportunity to crush the Andretti cosca, to absorb all their territory—that certainly was foolishness of the highest degree. Don Battista would question his judgment. And many others would see his choice as weak.
And yet—Carlo was Benedetto’s brother. Showing Dario mercy—surely that would be to Enrico’s advantage somehow. Or at least he could use that as his excuse.
The simple truth was that he was still, after all this time, not a killer by choice, but only by necessity. For a Mafia don, that was a horrible liability.
His thoughts turned to Dom. Antonio had him under guard in Milan, in one of the safe houses. Enrico closed his eyes, the knot in his stomach growing larger. How would he ever face Francesca and the children again? He was their godfather. Dom was the closest thing he had to a brother, he was almost all the blood family Enrico had left. Wasn’t there a special place in Hell for those who committed fratricide?
But what other choice was there? Dom had plotted with Carlo. Dom had wanted all of them dead, and without dirtying his hands directly. All so he could “innocently” take over the cosca.
Enrico burned at the betrayal. Never would he have done the same to Dom. Never. Dom tried to justify what he’d done, he tried to claim he was doing it for everyone’s good. Though Enrico would have liked to dismiss that notion outright, there was some truth to it. He hadn’t been the best steward of the cosca’s interests. He’d let his heart rule instead of his head. In a way, he had forced Dom’s hand.
But he couldn’t live with any other course; he couldn’t have walked away and abandoned Kate to the Andrettis. Somehow, he was going to have to make up for what he’d done. Though there’d be no bringing Paolo back. That price would always be with him. Just like the ghosts of Fiammetta, Veronica, and Franco. Soon Dom would join that list. The people he’d irrevocably wronged.
One of Kate’s monitors began to beep frantically, catapulting him out of his thoughts. He jumped off the table and rushed to her bedside. Beltrami was already there.
“What’s wrong? I thought everything was okay.”
“Her heart is racing.” Beltrami stared at the monitors, watching the readout. Kate started thrashing, then she came awake with a gasp and sat up. “Let go of me!” she yelled.
Enrico touched her arm. “It’s okay, Kate. It’s all over.”
“It is?” She looked at him in disbelief.
He pulled up a chair and took her hand. “Tell me what happened.”
Kate recounted what she could remember, including Dom’s betrayal. “He said I was a fool to doubt you. And when the guy who wants you dead defends you, how could I not believe it?”
Enrico’s chest grew tight. He asked Beltrami to leave the room before speaking. “Cara, I could never kill you.” He smiled. “This is going to sound horrible, but that has been the problem all along. I could not tell you who I was, I could not let you go, and I could not kill you if you could not accept me. I have never been faced with so many bad choices.”
Kate looked at his somber face and she cracked a smile. “I never imagined that not wanting to kill me would be a problem.”
Enrico started to laugh. He shook his head. “I lead some life, yes?”
“And now, so do I.” She squeezed his hand.
Enrico’s heart sped up. “What are you saying?”
She held his gaze, her eyes tender. “Don Lucchesi, will you do me the great honor of being my husband?”
She wanted to be his wife after all, after all the lies he’d told, after everything that had happened. “I shall.” He kissed her, making the touch of his lips soft, lingering. Then he kissed her cheek and stroked her injured temple, his fingers lightly passing over the lump beneath the skin. She nuzzled into his hand.
“What are you going to do about Dom?” she asked.
“I know what I have to do. I know what he tried to do to us, what he did to my father. And yet....” He looked down at their joined hands. “Since Primo and Mario were killed, Dom has been my brother.”
Kate was silent for a moment, then she said, “Has he treated you like a brother?”
Enrico couldn’t look at her. “Let’s not talk about him anymore.”
“I
will support whatever decision you make.” Her voice was soft. “But don’t forget why I’m lying here.”
He burned with shame at the reminder. “I won’t.” He had to call Antonio soon. He could just give the order, but he wasn’t going to do that. He would let Dom say his piece first. It was the least he could do. He turned to her. “You do realize what you’re urging me to do?”
She nodded, her face somber. “I never thought I’d feel like this, but I understand now. You don’t live in the same world I grew up in. You never have.”
Sadness overwhelmed him. “I regret that our child will grow up this way.”
“At least our baby will have two devoted parents. That’s more than many children have.”
He smiled and kissed her cheek. “You’ve gotten much better at consoling me.”
She laughed. “I had nowhere to go but up.”
Enrico nodded. He should’ve been happy. But Dom was a weight hanging over him.
He got up and wandered around the room, stretching his back and belatedly remembering his ribs, physically unable to remain in one spot.
Kate must have guessed at his discomfort because she said, “Mio caro, you can go. I’m fine.”
Enrico called Beltrami back in. “When can she leave?”
“I’m going to watch her until the drug wears off, then I’ll send her home.”
“See?” Kate said. “I’ll be in good hands.”
Enrico walked over to Kate’s bedside. “You’re sure?”
“Go on.” She shooed him away. “You’ll drive me crazy if you stay.”
He kissed her on the forehead, then planted a quick kiss on her belly. He turned to Beltrami. “Call me if anything happens.”
Enrico found Tommaso in the car out front. He instructed him to go inside and sit with Kate. “Guard her with your life. If anything happens to her, yours won’t be worth living.” His voice was sharp.
Tommaso nodded his grizzled head. “Sì, capo.”
Enrico took a breath, then patted the guard’s shoulder. “Scusa, I’m—”
Killer Romances Page 36
