by Reilly, Cora
“No,” I said harshly. “Serafina doesn’t belong in captivity.”
Fabiano shook his head. “They will marry her off to Danilo. Even if you spoiled the goods, she’s still Cavallaro’s niece, and Danilo would be foolish to refuse a marriage because she isn’t a virgin anymore.”
I wanted to kill someone, wanted to spill blood. “She won’t marry him.”
“Remo—”
“Not another word, Fabiano, or I swear you won’t get a chance to rip your father to shreds because I will and then maybe do the same to you.”
He sank back into the seat with a frown. “Should I call Nino?”
“We’ll see him in five fucking minutes,” I growled. “Now shut the fuck up.”
We met at the Sugar Trap. Fabiano dragged his father down into the basement while I sat down at the bar. Jerry put a bottle of brandy and a glass down in front of me without a word.
Nino joined me after a couple of minutes. “Matteo and Romero’s plane arrived thirty minutes ago. They’ll be here soon.”
“Good. A sign of goodwill for Luca.”
“He still isn’t happy about the kidnapping. But now that we gave Serafina back and give his brother and Captain a chance to partake in the torture, he’ll probably come back around. We don’t need a conflict with the Famiglia. The Outfit will start attacking viciously soon enough.”
“Set up a cage fight for me. Two opponents. Death match. Tomorrow. The day after at the latest.”
Nino grasped my shoulder. “Remo. We can’t have you play with your life now. We need you strong.”
I stood and gave him a twisted smile. “If you want me strong, give me someone to kill. I want blood. I want to maim and kill. And I’m not risking my life. I will fucking obliterate every fucking person who enters the fucking cage as my opponent.”
“It won’t make you miss her any less.”
I lunged at him in blinding rage. For the first time in my fucking life, I attacked my brother. Nino blocked my fist and took a step back, and I jerked to a halt, stopping myself after realizing what I was doing. My chest heaved as I stared into my brother’s cautious gray eyes.
Jerry had run off and a moment later Fabiano stormed inside but froze when he saw me and Nino facing each other, standing almost chest to chest.
“Fuck,” I rasped, taking a step back. I held out my arm, tattoo on display, my palm up. A silent apology, the only one I was capable of. Fabiano turned back around, leaving us alone. Nino linked our arms, my hand on his tattoo, on his scars, and his palm on mine.
“You walked through fire for me, Remo,” he said quietly, imploringly, “but you should know, I’d do the same for you. I wouldn’t have asked you to send her back if I’d known ... And I’ll walk straight into Outfit territory for you and get her back if that’s what you want.”
“That’s not what I want.”
“She won’t return to you of her own free will.”
“Then so be it. Now find someone I can kill and set up the fucking death match.”
Nino squeezed my arm then released me.
“I think for the first time in my life I envy you your lack of emotions.”
CHAPTER 20
REMO
“If they don’t arrive soon, I’ll start without them. I don’t give a fuck if it offends Luca fucking Vitiello or not,” Fabiano growled as he stood over his father, who lay on his side on the ground, mouth taped, arms and legs bound together. He stared up at his son with terror-widened eyes.
“They’ll be here any second,” I muttered.
I could tell Fabiano was barely listening. He was too focused on his father. He’d waited a long time for this moment. Fuck, I got it. I’d do anything for a chance to torture my father to death. I still remembered the fucking day I found out my traitorous half-brother had killed the asshole, something I’d dreamed of since I understood our father wasn’t the invincible god he made himself out to be. That he could, in fact, be killed. Since I was a fucking kid, I’d dreamed of erasing our father from our lives ...
If there were a Hell, I’d walk straight down into it to make a deal with the Devil so he’d give me the chance to kill the man just once. Maybe twice.
“Not the scrawny boy you can torture for your own amusement anymore, am I?” Fabiano murmured as he crouched in front of the other man. I prided myself on my scary smile, but Fabiano’s expression surpassed everything. He’d enjoy today.
The door creaked open, and Fabiano straightened. Nino came in, followed by Matteo and Romero. I had been surprised when Luca had told me he’d send them but not come himself. I supposed he had less reason to tear into Scuderi than the others. He had been gifted Aria because Scuderi sold his daughters off like cattle, and anyone could admit Aria was a very nice gift. An image of another woman with blond hair and blue eyes entered my mind, uninvited. I shoved it down.
I’d set her free.
“Nothing better than bonding over shared torture,” Matteo said with a grin as he sauntered into the cell in the basement of the Sugar Trap. That asshole always looked as if he’d walked straight out of a photo shoot for a fashion magazine. One day I’d fuck up his pretty face. Romero gave me and Fabiano a curt nod before his eyes, too, fell on Scuderi.
I pushed off the wall and extended my hand to Matteo, who took it after a moment.
“I still can’t stand your fucking face, Remo,” he said with a smirk. “But for this I might hesitate a millisecond before cutting your throat once we’re back to being enemies.”
“That millisecond will be the moment I’ll cut your head off, Matteo,” I said with a twisted smile of my own.
He released my hand. “May the craziest fucker win.”
My smile widened and I caught Nino’s gaze across the room. We both knew who that would be because when it came to crazy fuckery I was the undisputed master.
I turned to Romero, who didn’t display the careless attitude of Vitiello. He obviously was wary about being in a basement in Vegas. I didn’t have the slightest intention to attack either of them today. War with the Famiglia would have to wait until the Outfit was crushed and its territory split between us.
He briefly shook my hand. “Your methods are dishonorable,” he said tersely.
“You disapprove of them and yet here you are ... benefiting from them.”
Romero pulled his hand away, his brown eyes returning to Scuderi and his expression filling with hate.
I went over to Scuderi and smiled down at him. His eyes flickered with terror. “I must say you’ve gathered many enemies over time, and we’ve all come together to tear you apart.”
I reached down and ripped the tape from his face then straightened and returned to my spot at the wall. Maybe his agonized screams would drown out the voice of regret in my head.
Serafina walking away in that fucking white dress and that last look she gave me. Fuck it all.
Fabiano circled his father. “Father, I’ve been waiting for this chance for a very long time, and I have every intention of making it last for as long as possible. Lucky for me, Nino is a master at prolonging torture. With a little luck we can keep you alive for two or three days. That way we can all get the fun we deserve.”
Scuderi tried to push himself into a sitting position but failed. His expression became pleading. If he thought that would warm Fabiano’s heart, he didn’t understand what Fabiano did on a daily basis as my Enforcer. “I’m your father, Fabi. You already lost your mother. Do you want to lose me as well?”
Fabiano lunged, smashing his fist into the man’s face. Bones crunched. I watched from my spot against the wall. This wasn’t my moment. Despite my need to maim and kill, I’d hold back. Matteo, Fabiano, and Romero had more reason to spill Scuderi’s blood.
“Shut up,” Fabiano snarled.
Matteo had begun twisting a Karambit knife in his fingers, an eager gleam in his eyes I knew all too well.
“I’ve got small kids who need me,” Scuderi tried in a hoarse voice.
Fabiano lifted him by the collar and jerked him up against the wall, getting in his face. “They’ll be better off without you. My sisters and I would have that’s for sure.”
Nino put a chair down in the center of the room, and Matteo helped Fabiano drag Scuderi over to it. They tied him up despite his struggling.
His beady eyes found me. “Remo, you are Capo. I could be of use to you. I know everything about the Outfit and Dante. If you let me live, I’ll tell you everything.”
Fabiano scoffed as he pulled his knife from the holster around his chest.
I smiled cruelly at the disgusting bastard before me. “You will reveal everything I want to know. I know you’re in very capable hands that will coerce every truth out of you.”
“Oh we will,” Matteo said with his fucking shark grin. He stepped up to Fabiano, and they exchanged a look. Then Matteo leaned over Scuderi and brought the knife down on his chest. “Gianna sends her regards. I told her I’d let you suffer, and I will.”
Matteo left a long cut across Scuderi’s chest, making the bastard scream like a fucking coward.
Romero moved up to Scuderi after that. He wasn’t holding a knife in his hand. He smashed his fist into Scuderi side twice then into his stomach. Some men preferred to dish out pain with their fists, others with a cold blade. I enjoyed either, depending on my mood and what my opponent feared more.
“You gave Lily to a fucking old bastard so you could get a child bride for yourself. You’re a disgrace of a father.” He punched the man again.
Fabiano took over. “I hope you will spend your last hours considering that not a fucking soul on this planet will be sorry you’re gone. If you find time for sane thoughts between the agony.” He inflicted a long cut on the man’s arm. The sight of the red rivulets trailing enticingly over bare skin made my body hum with excitement. Fuck, I wanted to spill blood, dish out agony. I wanted to fucking destroy someone.
Nino leaned beside me. It wasn’t time for him to help yet, and his attention was on me, not the scene in the center of the cell.
“Stop the assessment,” I said in a low voice.
Nino narrowed his eyes slightly but complied and finally turned toward the torture. Matteo, Romero, and Fabiano took turns beating and cutting Scuderi until his screams and begging filled the cell.
After a few hours, Fabiano, covered in blood and sweat, indicated for Nino to get involved. My brother rolled up his sleeves and after another lingering glance at me, he moved toward the medical kit that would ensure Scuderi didn’t die too soon.
Romero leaned against the wall. Matteo and Fabiano had taken turns torturing Scuderi over the last hour, and I had a feeling they’d be the ones to deal with him in the remaining hours of his life. My own body hummed with the need to destroy, the need to give pain and feel pain, to fill the fucking void in my chest.
My body screamed for sleep, but except for a few toilet breaks, I stayed in the cell while Fabiano dealt with his bastard of a father. It wouldn’t be much longer.
Fabiano’s shoulders heaved as he stared down at his father. The man was breathing shallowly.
Fabiano turned to me, blood splatters dotting his face. His naked chest was completely coated with it. Our eyes met. “Remo...will you...?” His voice was hoarse.
I pushed away from the wall and walked up to him, not sure what he was asking of me. Fabiano clutched the bloody knife in a death grip, the look in his eyes reminding me of the boy I’d found in Bratva territory many years ago— a boy desperate for death because his father had taken everything from him.
Nino motioned for Matteo and Romero to leave, and with a last look at me, he closed the door. Fabiano swallowed before he held out his forearm with the Camorra tattoo. “You gave me a home. A purpose. You treated me like a brother...” He glanced down at his father. “Like family. I know you wanted nothing more than to kill your father and had that taken from you. I know it’s not the same, but...will you help me kill my father?”
I linked arms with Fabiano, clutching his forearm tightly. “We aren’t blood but we are brothers, Fabiano. I’ll walk through fire for you.” I stared down at the fucker who’d wanted his own son dead then back up to Fabiano. “And there’s nothing I’d rather do than kill him with you. It’s an honor.”
Fabiano nodded, then got down on his knees beside his father. I did the same. Fabiano raised the knife above his father’s chest then looked at me. I closed my fingers over his and together we jabbed the blade down, right into Scuderi’s fucking heart.
Fabiano’s shoulders sagged and he released a harsh breath as if the man’s death finally set him free. I wondered if anything would ever do the same for Nino and me?
SERAFINA
Outside of Las Vegas we traded in the car for the private jet belonging to the Outfit. I huddled in my seat, my cheek pressed to the window, watching the city grow smaller in the distance. Dad sat across from me, looking and not looking at me, caught somewhere between utter relief and hopeless despair.
I knew what a pitiful sight I was. Bloody and torn dress. Bite marks all over my throat. Dante was talking quietly on the phone, but he, too, slanted the occasional look at me. The only one who hadn’t looked at me after I flinched from his touch was Danilo. He leaned forward, forearms braced on his knees, staring blankly at the floor.
Guilt and a flicker of sadness washed over me. For him. For us. For what could have been and never would.
I swallowed and looked away. I met Dad’s gaze. He forced a small smile and reached for me as if to touch my legs over the tulle of my dress, but then he hesitated as if he was worried about my reaction. I snatched his hand and squeezed. His eyes were still glassy and haunted. I’m a sinner, Dad. Don’t cry for me.
He lifted his other hand with the phone. “Do you want to call Samuel? I sent him a message that we got you.”
I nodded fiercely, my throat clogging. Dad’s eyes darted to my throat once more, and the hint of something cruel and harsh flared in them. Something he had never showed at home. He gave me his phone, and I hit speed dial with shaking fingers.
“Yes?”
For a second, hearing Samuel’s voice immobilized me. “Sam,” I croaked.
There was silence. “Fina?”
The word was a broken exclamation that splintered me apart. Tears trailed down my cheeks, and I could feel all eyes on me. I closed my own. “I’m sorry.”
Samuel sucked in a sharp breath. “Don’t ... don’t apologize. Not ever again, Fina.”
I couldn’t promise that. One day I’d have to deliver the apology that would make Sam hate me. A higher voice rang out in the background. “It’s okay, Mom,” Samuel soothed. “I’ll give her to you.” He addressed me again. “I’ll give you Mom now. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms, Fina.”
I sniffled. “Me too.”
“Fina,” Mom said softly, trying but failing at sounding composed and not like she was sobbing.
So many broken hearts. So much pain and despair.
Remo Falcone was indeed the cruelest man I knew, and I had to be the coldest bitch on this planet, because even still my stupid heart thudded faster when I thought of him.
“I’ll be home soon,” I whispered.
“Yes ... yes,” Mom agreed. We hung up eventually because it got to be too much, the silence of suppressed crying and the distance we couldn’t bridge.
“Where are we going?” I hadn’t asked before because I’d just assumed we’d go back to Minneapolis ... but I was as good as Danilo’s wife. Would they take me to Indianapolis? Or maybe to Chicago because Dante needed to question me about every little detail of my captivity?
Dad leaned forward and cupped my cheek. “Home, Fina. Home.”
I nodded. My eyes found Danilo, who was watching me. Our gazes locked briefly, but then guilt forced me to look away. I’d have to face him eventually. I wasn’t sure what to tell him.
The rest of the plane ride passed in utter silence. I knew they all had so many questions to ask but held back f
or my sake, and I was glad because I still wasn’t sure what to say to any of them.
With every second that passed, my skin crawled more and more trapped in my wedding dress. It felt so utterly wrong, like being wrapped in lies and deceit.
Mom and Samuel waited in front of our house when we pulled up with the car. I didn’t see Sofia anywhere, probably to protect her from the sight, and I was glad. She didn’t need to see me like this.
I trembled when Dad helped me out of the car, his fingers tight around my forearm as if he worried I might faint. Dante and Danilo stayed back as we walked toward the house. Samuel staggered toward me. My twin. My confidante. My partner in crime.
He froze when his eyes registered my state, the marks on my throat, and his expression became one I’d seen the first time shortly after he’d become a Made Man five years ago. Cold, cruel, out for blood. He caught himself, bridged the remaining distance between us, and hugged me to his body, lifting me off the ground in a crushing embrace. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, shivering.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” he rasped.
I wasn’t the person he knew. She was gone. If he knew what I’d become, if they all knew, they’d hate me. And rightfully so.
Can you un-lose yourself?
I clung to Samuel for a long time, just breathing in his comforting scent, relishing in the feel of him. Eventually, he set me down and my eyes fell on Mom, who stood behind Samuel, her hand covering her mouth, tears running down her face. Dad had wrapped his arm around her, steadying her. Their anguish cut me deeply.
They thought Remo had raped me. I looked like I had been raped with my ripped and bloody dress. Mom rushed forward and embraced me so tightly I could barely breathe and she sobbed into my hair, and my heart ... it just broke hearing it. And not for the first time, I wished Remo had done what everyone thought so I could cry rightfully with my mother and with all of them.
I should have told her the truth, but the words didn’t pass my lips. Soon. Dad and Samuel joined us, and I sighed, because right then I allowed myself a moment of contentment being united with them. Samuel wrapped his arm around my shoulders as he led me inside our home.