Morally Blasphemous (Morally Questionable Book 2)

by Veronica Lancet

  She has no idea the hell I'm about to pay for dreaming about something forever out of reach.

  PRESENT-DAY,

  Tears are rolling down her face after I recount her everything. I keep to myself the more sensitive details, like the reason I'd been so battered that day, or that by falling in love with her, I'd become a weakling in father's eyes. And he'd set me right in the worst possible manner.

  "I don't know what to say." She whispers, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "Why did you never come for me?"

  "I didn't think I was worthy of you. My past... it's not pretty." It's a half-truth, but if she knew the real reason... I don't even want to go there. I may have stayed away, but that doesn't mean she's left my thoughts even for a day.

  "Marcello," My name on her lips soothes me in a way that I'd never thought possible. She might be able to make me whole again. But she also has the power to tear me apart.

  "Are you mad?"

  "Mad? Why?"

  "Because I didn't tell you before."

  "No... no." She shakes her head, her eyes softening as she gazes at me. "I could never be mad at you. I have questions though." She nestles closer to me, her head on my chest. "How come you fell in love with me just from those brief interactions? It just seems a little... odd. Not that I'm not grateful. You have no idea how pleased I am to know you feel the same." The last words are on a softer tone, as if she's embarrassed.

  "It was rather easy. When all you've ever known is cruelty, the one person who teaches you kindness becomes the center of your universe. You became mine, Lina. When you gave me that little bag with food, or when you tended my wounds, you made me believe there was something else in the world besides evil. You made me hope again." Even though that hope was dashed later on. She'd still shown me a different way of being, and for that she'd become my muse, my ultimate desire.

  "What happened to you, Marcello?"

  "More like what didn't happen." I reply drily. "I'll tell you..."

  "Someday." She giggles as we say the word in unison.

  "It's not that I don't want to, Lina. But it's difficult to talk about it." And because part of me doesn't think she'd look at me the same if she knew the things I've done.

  "I'm here. Whenever you want to talk." She lays a kiss on my chest, her face nuzzling my side.

  "So, you love me." I subtly change the subject, even though I still can't believe she loves me. It's simply too good to be true, considering I'd dreamed of hearing her say these words for so long.

  "And you love me." She shoots back, arching an eyebrow, her lips twitching sheepishly.

  "So much it hurts." I tip her chin up with my finger, wanting to show her the sincerity in my eyes. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Lina. Tell me to die tomorrow, and I will. Tell me to live, and I'll be your servant. Forever."

  She blinks twice, a smile spreading on her lips. "Fine. As my servant, I command you to never stop loving me."

  "Easy."

  "And I want to have many, many children."

  "Done." I immediately say.

  "Really? How about ten?" Lina raises her eyebrow in a challenge.

  "Ten works for me, but I'm worried about you since you'll be doing the hard work."

  "I don't mind that. I want a big family." She tilts her head pensively. "A big loving family."

  "Then I'll give you everything you want."

  I gather her in my arms, my head resting atop hers.

  And I silently pray.

  That her love will be enough.

  When the day comes...

  "LOVE YOU." PLACING a kiss on Lina's lips, I head out.

  Since I'd finally confessed my feelings, I've been taking every single opportunity to let Lina know just how much she means to me. I might do it in excess, but ten years of pent-up longing can do that to a man.

  I try to finish all of my meetings in time so I can go back home. I'd taken Guerra on his offer, if only temporarily. While I still don't trust him, I'm a little more worried about the state of the famiglia and their perception of things if I put off solving the transport issue even longer. Since the inauguration, I started feeling a clear divide between the members of the famiglia, with one faction supporting me while the other Nicolo. It's not as if I haven't considered the possibility, but the reality means that I need to convince everyone that I'm the most suitable candidate for Capo.

  I still have my doubts about Benedicto, since I don't know exactly what his stance is towards his brother. Franco's grudge towards Catalina must have only increased since his public humiliation. Even so, I doubt it's him who's been trying to terrorize Catalina. Not with all evidence pointing towards the copycat Chimera, who I'm not any closer to finding out.

  The entire situation is too messy. I just hope that for now the famiglia will be satisfied with Guerra's routes for transport and Enzo's clubs for distribution.

  I spend most of the day going through warehouse to warehouse to make sure the next transport is secure enough. After I feel that everything is in order, I leave Francesco to oversee the details.

  It's almost dark when I get back home. I find the girls in the drawing room, Claudia and Venezia are doing their homework while Catalina is focused on drawing a new piece. I frown when I notice Sisi is missing. She's been doing that a lot lately.

  "Marcello!" Lina drops everything to jump in my arms.

  "Easy, love." I kiss the top of her head.

  Venezia and Claudia acknowledge me with a nod, but they seem to be engrossed in whatever they are working on, so I don't want to disturb them.

  "They have a quiz tomorrow." Lina whispers and waves me towards the stairs.

  "How was your day?" She asks when we get in our room.

  "Good, I think. Not sure yet." I admit, and I give her a quick summary of what I'd planned.

  "If Guerra holds his end of the bargain, this could work." Lina helps me out of my shirt.

  "Your brother's help is also a bonus. I've done the math and we could recoup our losses in a month, max two."

  She purses her lips, her face strained.

  "I've never liked what Enzo does. I mean, I don't like any of this. But he's knowingly and intentionally exploiting women." She shakes her head. "I just can't reconcile that with the image I have of my brother."

  "There's one thing you need to understand, Lina." I turn to her, softly stroking her hair. "Mafiosi always have two faces: one that they show to their family, and one that they show to the outside world. You can't succeed in this cutthroat environment without ruthlessness and a compromise on morality. You might know him as a loving brother, but to everyone else he's a capo, and a made man."

  She seems pensive for a moment.

  "I know who you are with me," Lina says, poking her finger in my chest. "but what's the face you show to the outside world? The one you used to punish Franco?"

  "No. It's much, much worse." I tell her honestly, hoping she won't probe for more.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I pray that you never find out." I lift her finger to my lips. She looks like she wants to say something more, so I silence her with a kiss. What she'd seen me do to Franco had been tame. If she knew what I'm capable of... I really hope she never finds out.

  Before we can take things further, Amelia interrupts to let me know I received a package which she'd left in my office.

  "Do you have to go now?" Her hand trails softly down my arm before intertwining our fingers.

  "I won't be long." I say, reluctant to leave her side. "After that, I'm all yours."

  "I'll wait for you."

  Anticipation already building inside of me, I make a run for my office, intent on getting this over with quickly. As Amelia said, there is a big box on the top of my desk.

  Odd that Amelia didn't mention who it's from. A cursory glance tells me it doesn't have any labels.

  I shrug and set about opening it. Grabbing a pair of scissors, I cut through the tape holding the box at the top.

  I had
n't felt anything before, but the moment I open the box, the smell of death assaults me.

  "Fuck!" I mutter, scrunching my nose in disgust. Is this another bad joke? Carelessly, I tear through the cardboard to see what is inside.

  And then I still.

  Severed at the neck, father's head is placed face up inside the box. The skin is a blue yellowish, a mix of pus and blood lingering at the decapitation line. The bullet wound is infested with maggots, as are his eye-sockets—or what's left of them.

  "Fuck!" I take a step back, staring in shock at father's rotting head. Who could have sent this?

  But that means...

  Taking a deep breath, I rummage through the box, looking for some clues as to who could have done this. It doesn't take me long to find a note.

  NICE TRY!

  My hand clenches around the piece of paper.

  I've been played.

  Trying to calm myself, I take a seat and replay the recent events in my head. There's only one conclusion to be drawn.

  It's someone close to me.

  This is all a joke for whoever is doing this. And putting things in perspective makes me think that everything's been a game so far. From me finding the asylum papers when I did – considering I'd gone through all of Tino's files before – to finding father and killing him, hoping he was the source of my torment.

  A manic laugh takes over. I can't even help myself as I bend forward, my belly hurting from laughing this hard.

  And then I stop.

  They think they won, huh? But now I have one invaluable clue. Whoever it is has unrestricted access to my house. But more than anything, they know about my past, and my work for father. That narrows the list even more.

  It's someone within the famiglia.

  But this is more than that. It's personal. And I can't think of anyone I'd offended. Sure, there's Nicolo and his cronies, but I've barely interacted with them. There is more to this than meets the eye, but I simply don't have enough information.

  I call one soldier and instruct him to get rid of the head.

  If they're so close.... I might just need to plant a red herring.

  I get back a little later to the room, and Lina is already tucked in bed. She smiles when she sees me, opening her arms. I slide in and cuddle her.

  One thing is for sure. This is war. I can't let anyone take away my happiness. Not when I finally got her.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  IT'S EARLY IN THE MORNING when I get my weekly delivery of fabrics. I'd ordered quite a few this time, thinking I could surprise Claudia with her dream princess dress for her birthday. Hiding my work for her wouldn't be easy, though.

  The girls are still sleeping, and Marcello's already left for work. That leaves me mostly alone in the house. And it's the perfect opportunity to unpack the materials.

  I take the boxes to my room and I line all the fabrics on the bed for better visualization. I make to throw the boxes, but a scrap of paper falls out. Thinking it might be an invoice, I pick it up to add it to my folder.

  But it's not.

  DON'T YOU WANT TO KNOW WHO THE FATHER OF YOUR CHILD IS?

  I freeze. What's this? Who put it inside?

  I go back to the boxes and search all of them thoroughly, but there's nothing else.

  Just this piece of paper.

  Numbly, I sit down, the note still in my hand.

  No, I can't let this rattle me. Everything is in the past, and I'm sure whoever is doing this can't possibly know what happened that night.

  I take a while to compose myself. I rip the note in pieces and throw it in the trash. Then, I just focus on my project.

  I won't let this bother me.

  As the day progresses, I forget about it. By night, I've already put it out of my mind.

  "Signora Catalina, this came for you." Amelia stops me on my way to breakfast the following day. I frown, but take the letter.

  I find a nook under the stairs and I open it. Inside is another note, similar to the one I'd gotten the day before. My fingers are already trembling as I unfold it to read another disturbing message.

  HE'S CLOSER THAN YOU THINK.

  Who is doing this? Who is trying so hard to torment me with the worst thing that ever happened to me?

  Putting the paper back in its envelope, I ask Amelia to bring the meal to my room and to excuse my absence by saying I'm sick. Once Amelia leaves, I hurry to my room.

  What's happening? I don't understand. I admit I'd thought about Claudia's biological father over the years. But it wasn't because I was curious about his identity. It was more out of a need to see if I could see his features in my daughter. Luckily, she's inherited all of her physical characteristics from me – except her hair.

  I shake my head, not even wanting to entertain the thought that the note might be right. That my rapist is somewhere near me is something that threatens to make me ill.

  A knock on the door startles me.

  "Lina? Are you ok?" Marcello asks. I rush to hide the letter under the mattress, doing it just before he opens the door.

  'Lina? Love, you don't look too good." He comes closer and stoops down on his haunches in front of me. Checking my temperature with the back of his hand, he frowns.

  "You're a little warm."

  "It's just a headache. Don't worry." I grab his hand and squeeze it, seeking the familiar comfort of his touch.

  "I can't do that. I'll always worry about you." The gentleness of his voice soothes me. I pull him into my arms, holding him tight.

  "I love you." I whisper. I don't even want to imagine what he'd think of me if he knew... I close my eyes, wanting to forget about everything.

  "I adore you, Lina. Don't forget that." He draws back, his face strained with worry. I feel guilty about it, so I quickly urge him to go back to the dining room.

  "I'm feeling better. Come, let's go together." I stand up, leading him towards the door.

  "If you're sure...?" His eyes scan me, trying to assess the veracity of my words.

  I nod and plaster a smile on my face.

  He has enough on his plate. He doesn't need this too.

  The messages keep coming. Every single day, I receive a letter without fail. This goes on for a week. The notes are usually one sentence long, but they taunt me with the knowledge of the identity of Claudia's father. After the first few days, I refuse to open them, choosing to burn them instead.

  Whoever thinks to torment me with this should reconsider. I'm done playing what I can only describe as a sick game. Two days of no new letters and I thought it was finally over. But I was wrong. I was wrong in thinking that throwing away the letters would make it all stop.

  Browsing the internet in my room, I'm shocked to see a pop-up appear on the screen. At first it's empty. But then it fills with the same sentences I've been receiving in letter format.

  SILLY GIRL, IF YOU ONLY KNEW.

  THE MAN YOU PROFESS TO LOVE – DON'T THINK I HAVEN'T HEARD.

  I try my best to exit the window, pressing all types of keys, but it's in vain. It keeps on running.

  THE MAN WHO RAPED YOU IS CLOSER THAN YOU THINK

  YOU'RE MARRIED TO HIM.

  The text suddenly stops and my computer crashes. I'm still looking at the blank screen, shocked by what I'd read. Is he implying Marcello is the man from that night? The simple notion of it makes me laugh. Really, all this trouble for what? To make me doubt my husband?

  Whoever it was should realize just how far-fetched the idea that Marcello could be Claudia's father is....

  I shake my head, determined to put this out of my mind forever.

  When dinner is announced, I go downstairs and notice that everyone but Assisi is already at the table. Marcello is deep in conversation with Claudia, and they are discussing some text she'd had to read as part of her homework.

  "But it's not very logical." My daughter notes, eyebrows knit together in consternation.

  "I think you're just advanced for your grade, Claudia." Marcello no
ds. "Have you tried telling that to Mrs. Evans?"

  "Yes, but she wants me to go the traditional route. She says I shouldn't miss out on a normal education." She sighs, clearly disappointed with her teacher's approach.

  "Lina, there you are." Marcello gives me a bright smile as I take my seat. I nod at them, urging them to continue.

  As the courses come and go, I can't help but stare at the two of them, looking for any similarities. Damnation! Now that the idea was sown into my head, I can't help but think about it.

  There isn't much to go off. The only thing they have in common is their lightly colored hair. In fact, the more I stare, the more I realize that it's the same shade of blonde.

  Lord! I must be going crazy.

  "Lina?" Marcello calls my name, frowning.

  "Yes, sorry I didn't hear you."

  "You've been lost in thought for a while now."

  "Just thinking about my design." I quickly lie, forcing a smile. Good Lord, if he knew what I've been thinking about...

  The next course is served, and I see Marcello looking a little disconcerted.

  "Something wrong?" I ask as one of the staff members places a plate in front of me.

  "I've given specific instructions to avoid sea-food." He notes, picking at his food.

  I look down into my plate and see that it's a sea-food medley.

  "Ew." My daughter makes a face, pushing the plate away from her.

  "Why?" I ask, my eyes still on my daughter.

  "I have seafood allergy." He shakes his head, raising up to go to the kitchen to inquire further.

  "Wow. I have seafood allergy too." Claudia exclaims. Marcello stops in his tracks and half-turns towards Claudia, his expression inscrutable.

  "I'll tell them not to make this mistake again." His voice is tense, and my doubts suddenly double.

  Surely it's just a coincidence?

  The following days are even worse. I watch Marcello and Claudia even closer, studying their interactions and their behaviors. Suddenly, I see a pattern in everything.

  This is getting to me too much. Especially when I search the internet for types of evidence that two people could be related. Short of a DNA test, another far less reliable method is to compare blood types of the parents.