A Dance of War

by Ellie R. Hunter

  “Well it didn’t, and you should give me more credit.”

  “Should I now, more than I already give you? Tell me, my love, what would you have done if someone recognised you and tried to harm you?”

  I’m stumped. I don’t know what I would’ve done. Run? Pushing again at his chest, I go to step away when he pulls me back and wraps me in his arms.

  “I don’t mean to snap at you. You scared me, that’s all. It’s bad enough knowing you’re not safe in the same house as your father, but I won’t be able to sleep at night if I’m second-guessing where you are.”

  I sigh, feeling defeated. “I shouldn’t have come. I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

  We haven’t seen each other in four days because his father’s had him running errands—errands he won’t tell me about. He dismisses them as nothing, so I let it go.

  “I am happy to see you, but not when it puts you in harm’s way. Promise me you won’t do this again. If you want to see me that bad, I’ll find a way to come to you.”

  An unladylike snort escapes me as I shove him away, causing him to stumble back a step.

  “The prophecy says we rise hand in hand, which means I’m at your side, taking the same risks as you. If I can’t make it across the city in one piece, then I’ll be no good to you when the time comes.”

  Reaching for my hand, he pulls me against him and smiles down at me.

  “I thought your beauty was too much before, but when you’re angry, it shines like the sun.”

  What? I’m angry, and he’s paying me compliments.

  “I’m happy that you’re here, and I’m even happier you got here in one piece. I’m sorry, okay?”

  That’s more like it. I lean up on my tiptoes and press my lips to his. This is what I needed most. Apart from being close to him, seeing his face and hearing his voice, I needed this kiss. It was worth the trek across the city.

  “I wish I could take you up to my room,” he murmurs, pulling away to rest his forehead against mine.

  If we were any other teenagers, I’d take the risk of being caught by his parents. But even though I risked coming to see him tonight, I know going into his home is too far. Not that he hasn’t done it to me, showing up at my birthday party.

  “We have so many wishes, it’s hard to remember them all sometimes.”

  The disappointment is too much. I rest my head against his chest, wanting to feel his heartbeat.

  “Not long now, my Mila. Then, neither of us will have to skulk around.”

  The iron gates start to grind as they open. When a set of bright headlights shine toward us, Raphael yanks me down behind the bushes.

  “Who is it?” I ask, noting a sleek black limo driving through, followed by three SUVs.

  “My parents. They were at a charity event tonight. They’re home early.”

  My heart races as we watch the driver open their door for his parents to climb out. His father doesn’t wait for his mother, waving her off dismissively when she calls out after him.

  Tensing beside me, Raphael narrows his eyes in their direction.

  “Why don’t our fathers know how to love?” I ask, keeping my voice low. Not that I think we could be heard from here, anyway.

  “I imagine it’s because they were taught nothing but hatred.”

  I tend to agree with him, and it dawns on me that Raphael and I, despite our upbringings, aren’t the same. Belief in the prophecy only grows. We must be different if we’re not like them.

  “I’ll never treat you like my father treats my mother, I swear it to you now, Mila.”

  Looping my arm through his, I lean against him and find his hand. “You wouldn’t know how to.”

  From the moment I heard him speak as I stared up at the fallen angel in the mayor’s mansion, he’s spoken with only love and affection toward me.

  “Our children will know love, and know nothing of hatred or disrespect,” he spits out.

  I quirk my brow up at him. “Children? We’re not even married yet.”

  His shoulders relax, and he falls back on his ass, taking me with him.

  “I want everything with you, Mila. I don’t just want change for Vita. I want change in every aspect of my life. One day soon, this place is going to be handed down to me, and I want the grass to be played on and the swimming pool out back to be swam in. I want to hear laughter at the dinner table and throughout each room.”

  “You said we were going to live somewhere else,” I remind him.

  “We will. But as much as I despise this house now, I know it’s only because of the people that live here. The place has been in my family for two hundred years, so I don’t know how to feel about letting it go.”

  I too despise my home because of the people who live there. When I look to the future, I see us in a new home, one that will be ours.

  “It’s a possibility we’ll both have to let go. Our vision is everything new, for us, and for everyone in Vita. If they see us moving on, they’ll find it easier as well.”

  “What would you do with them?” he asks, squeezing my hand.

  “I’d burn them both to the ground and build new—keeping with Vita’s look, of course. Maybe affordable houses for the poorer people, and parks for the children to play in during the summer. It’ll be a waste to keep them when we’re trying to build a new life. Once our fathers are gone, I don’t want any reminders of the past.”

  “There’s a lot of land between our properties.”

  “We could bring the city into the new age and make a shit ton of money in the process.”

  “It’s not all about money, Raphael. I’m sure between us, our fortunes will be enough to last our children’s children’s lifetime and longer. It’s about time the people of Vita have somewhere nicer to call home.”

  “Your heart is so pure, Mila. I love that the most about you, you know.”

  “Your heart is just as pure, Raphe, and soon everyone will see what I do.”

  The cars that drove in drive slowly around the side of the house where Raphael tells me the garages are.

  Checking his watch, he leans up to look over the bush. “We’ll wait till they head inside, and then I’ll drive you home.”

  The light in the window I first saw goes out. “Is that your room?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Someone’s in there, then. Won’t they come looking for you?”

  My panic grows when he chuckles. “Mila, I’m not a daughter who has to have every move accounted for. It would’ve been my mother coming to let me know they were home. She’ll think I’m out somewhere with my cousin, and she’ll go to bed.”

  I frown. It must be nice to have the freedom to come and go as you please.

  “Doesn’t she worry you’re not home at this hour?”

  “I’m sure she does, but my father will tell her I’m nearly a man, and if I can’t look out for myself, then I’m no good anyway. She’ll pop a sleeping pill and question me in the morning.”

  Sucking air through my teeth, my anger sounds like a snake hissing. I hate Mr. Marocchi. It’s okay, though, because I can give Raphael more love than he ever could, and I will, every day for the rest of our lives.

  “Come on, put your hood up and stay at my side.”

  I do as he says, following him to the garage port, flicking a set of keys off one of the many hooks on the wall.

  I know he drives, but I’ve never seen what he drives, and I’ve never thought to ask him.

  A matte black Lamborghini with sparkling silver rims beeps, and he opens the door for me.

  “You’re filthy,” he points out, looking down at the scrapes of mud on my jeans. “How will you explain that to your parents?”

  “You give them too much credit. As if they do the laundry,” I snort, climbing inside.

  He closes the door, and his laugh dies as he rounds the hood and gets behind the wheel.

  “This is the last thing I thought I’d be doing tonight.” Pressing the button, he brings the engine
to life.

  “I only wanted to see you, Raphael.”

  The car descends into darkness as he peels out of the garage and away from the stark white lighting.

  He doesn’t reply, but he reaches across for my hand and says, “The windows are tinted, and they won’t stop me. You can take your hood down. I’d like to have access to your face before you’re gone again.”

  Brushing my hand over the top of my hood, I pull it down and shake my hair out, tucking it behind my ears.

  “I love you, Mila. So much so, I couldn’t live without you. But please, for my sanity, don’t put yourself at risk again.”

  I turn toward the window. Not that I’m looking at anything, obviously, but I don’t want him to see the truth, because I would do it again, even if I only got to spend a few minutes with him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Raphael

  Night after night, I sit with my mother, but nothing changes. Not even a finger twitch.

  Drifting off to sleep, I’m woken at exactly three a.m. to two shots fired, causing the alarms all across the property to blare through the house. Getting to my feet, I run out of my mother’s room, close the door behind me, and head for the top of the stairwell to find Cristian running up.

  Passing me the gun in his hand, he pulls out his spare from the back of his pants.

  “The shots sounded like they came from up here.”

  Shoulder to shoulder, with a handful of my men joining us, we check each room until we stumble upon my brother’s. I know he’s a lazy asshole, but even he would’ve heard the commotion.

  I knock, but there’s no response. I knock louder, and still no answer. Twisting the doorknob, I find it unlocked, and nudge it open with the gun.

  Two bodies lay in the bed, yet nothing is out of place.

  “Leo!” I snap, but he doesn’t flinch.

  Cristian flips the light on, and I blink numerous times, not believing what I’m seeing. There’s a bullet hole in the whore’s head, but what I’m not prepared for is seeing the same thing done to my brother.

  Sure enough, two shots—one for her, and one for my brother.

  “Shut that fucking alarm off!” I yell.

  Cristian walks past me to Leo’s side of the bed. Leaning over, he pulls the sheet up over his chest.

  Coldly, I ask, “Who’s the girl?”

  I don’t recognise her, and it’s not because of the hole in her head. I’ve never taken notice of the whores he brings around. And to be honest, him being distracted with pussy has kept him out of my way, as well as the businesses.

  “Gloria. She was his favourite.”

  “Family?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll look into it.”

  When his phone rings, he answers and listens to whoever is on the other end before ending the call.

  “The house is clear. Whoever this was is long gone.”

  Unable to pull my eyes away from my brother’s body, I realise I’m more upset about the fact of someone daring to come into my house than I am for the death of Leo.

  The first thought that comes to mind is that I don’t have to put up with him any longer. I won’t have to shell out for pussy, drugs, and drink, just to keep him entertained and out of my hair.

  Cristian moves in front of me, blocking my view of Leo. “Are you happy now? You waited to see what her next move would be, and now your brother is dead.”

  “I wouldn’t say I’m happy, no.”

  But I wouldn’t say I’m broken over it, either.

  “Say the word, and I’ll have a hundred men behind me when I rush the Camarco estate.”

  Shaking my head, I remain calm and think through our next move with perfect clarity.

  “Put the word out. I want every Marocchi soldier on the streets wreaking havoc. I want the city burning by sunlight. As far as we’re concerned, she has the mayor and the entire police force at her disposal. If we show up in full force, it’ll be us who goes down first, not her.”

  “I don’t agree.”

  “Then you’d have us all die tonight, Cousin, and I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.”

  Shoving him out of my way, I leave the room and order a soldier lingering at the top of the stairs to have Leo and his whore’s bodies watched until I tell them what to do next.

  Jogging down the stairs, I head for my office and dial the mayor’s home line.

  He takes so long to answer, I nearly hang up and try again, but he finally picks up.

  “For Jamila to strike against me in my own home… I gather she has your word she won’t face any backlash for her actions?”

  “Raphael?”

  “She had my brother killed in his bed tonight. I advise you to stay out of this fight or you will be caught in the middle. I can’t guarantee you’ll live to see another day.”

  “What are you planning, Marocchi?” he asks, shuffling around on his end, sounding more alert. “If you go against Jamila, I’ll have no choice but to end you and your men.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “It’s funny, you don’t have the same conviction to help me when she’s just murdered my brother,” I point out, and I’m met with silence.

  “This war is coming to an end. As soon as I take her out, I won’t forget whose side you were on.”

  I slam the phone down and pour myself a large whiskey, needing the burn that flows down my throat.

  Cristian was right. I waited for this moment and I now know how far she’s willing to go. Soldier to soldier is how this war has been fought for two centuries. She’s just taken it up a to whole new level, and finally, the gloves are off.

  “Sir, the men are ready to go,” Frankie announces from the doorway.

  “Nowhere is off limits, I want to see fires raging and bullets flying from every direction.”

  He nods and slips away. Cristian walks through and falls onto the couch under the window.

  “It’d be so much easier if we stormed her estate. She’ll expect us once the soldiers start rioting.”

  “Then she’ll be disappointed. Besides, while chaos distracts the police and her men, it’ll be easier for the Ghost to take out Trey. Then, she’ll have no one. Why storm the gates when we can simply walk through them.”

  The Camarco gates are just as high as the ones to the Marocchi grounds. Iron intricately woven around the Camarco crest faces me from across the street. Mila hasn’t responded to my texts since last night, and I’m growing worried.

  The sun is bright this morning, but it offers no warmth. I keep my cap on and hide my face as much as I can as not to be seen.

  When the gates swing open, my heart races when I see Mila strolling out onto the street with her mother, and no doubt her mother’s maid. Lowering the baseball cap over my face, I keep my distance and follow them to the market square. Today, market traders from far and wide will be selling unusual bits and bobs, and everyone in Vita ventures out to see what they can buy.

  Giana Camarco stops by a stall selling fine silks and scarfs, with patterns I’ve never seen before, while Mila continues on, walking toward the next stall. Flipping my hoodie over my cap, I make my move. Her fingers graze over the lockets and trinkets that have captured her attention, giving me the opportunity to sidle up next to her.

  “When we’re married, I’ll buy you every gem you desire,” I murmur, keeping my voice low.

  Gasping, she jerks her head up to look at me.

  The instant our eyes meet, she quickly turns to look over her shoulder.

  “Keep calm, and no one will notice me.”

  “You have to stop putting yourself in danger like this, Raphe.”

  “Not when it comes to you.”

  “Can I help you?” the trader asks, flitting his gaze between us.

  “I’m just looking, but thank you.”

  We move to the next stall with colourful glass ornaments of angelic beings, and dark glass ornaments of demons and the devil all lining the shelves. Mila zeros in on the red and yellow glass cherub.

&
nbsp; “Pretty,” she murmurs before putting it back. “Is there another reason you’re here, apart from you wanting to see me?”

  “Father Luke sent me word, wanting us to meet at the church three days before our birthdays.”

  “Why?”

  “He didn’t say. I sent back word we’ll be there.”

  Looking down at her around the edge of my hoodie, I can see the outline of my cross beneath the fabric of her thin sweater. It gives me pleasure to see her wearing it every day, knowing a piece of me is with her when I’m not.

  “I’ll stay behind after morning prayer. I’ll tell my mom I’m helping the Father out again.”

  “Does she question you much about it? What help you offer?”

  “Not once. She’s happy I make the family look good. She doesn’t mind how I go about it.”

  Moving onto the next stall, we come to numerous drawings of men fighting. It’s not until she picks up one of a girl and a boy, facing off with another, and two men dead, bleeding at their feet, that I can read the scripture. It’s the prophecy. Mila’s fingers tighten on the edges of the canvas.

  “There are so many people relying on us, and they have no idea what’s to come.”

  I watch as she sets the drawing down, and I can’t help but think they know more than we do. I’m guessing the two dead men are our fathers. Even the people know they’ll never broker peace because of Mila and I.

  “You need to go before someone sees you,” she whispers harshly.

  We come to the end of the row, and as she goes to walk onto the next one, I pull her around the stall, away from prying eyes.

  “Raphael!”

  “Kiss me and I’ll leave,” I promise.

  And she does. I feel every one of her fears under my touch.

  It won’t be long now before she’ll have nothing to fear.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jamila

  Standing on the top step in front of the house, plumes of smoke can be seen in various places, rising toward the sky. Speeding cars and screeching tires race around in the distance, with continuous gunfire echoing under the sun rising over Vita. It’s been chaos since the middle of the night, and I’ve had reports coming in that the Marocchi’s were the ones who started the assault this time.