A Dance of War

by Ellie R. Hunter

  The empathy she feels for people, people she hasn’t met, astounds me, and I reach for her hand. Entwining my fingers with hers, I try to assure her, it isn’t as bleak as it seems.

  “Make calls, and have everyone come to the house. It’s about time we’re all on the same page moving forward.”

  “It could make us a prime target, having so many people in one place,” Cristian argues.

  “At this point, it might make it easier for us. They have to come to arm themselves anyway. Make the calls.”

  Approaching the house, the gates are locked, but the guards appear from everywhere as Cristian jumps out and plugs in the code.

  “At least you’ve held down your estate.”

  I smile at Mila, but even I can feel it doesn’t reach my eyes.

  Cristian doesn’t jump back in the car, so we set off for the house. It pleases me to see there are still so many men on lookout.

  Limping inside, I dig out the bottle of pills Lila gave me and pop two more into my mouth.

  “What do you want me to do, Mila?” Trey inquires, coming up behind us.

  “Get some sleep. You’re no good to me if you’re not rested up.”

  After he disappears, I keep hold of her hand as I slowly and painfully lead her to my room. Once inside, I sigh with relief when I close the door, trapping us in and away from the world.

  There’s no awkwardness this time. She strips down to her underwear and climbs under the sheets.

  As thankful as I was for the clean pants, I’m glad to shove them down my legs and step out of them. I climb in beside her, yet as tired as I know she is, her eyes are wide, staring straight at me.

  “Sometimes I believe I can have it all, but most times, reality reminds me it’s not possible.”

  “That’s funny. Reality reminds me I can have anything I wish for.”

  “You don’t have to be so arrogant.”

  “You forget, Mila. Even though we want a different Vita than our forefathers, we’re still who we are. And if we want something that seems impossible, it’s only a case of fighting until it’s ours. We’ve been fighting each other and for each other for so many years, it’s time we fight for us. We’re allowed to find our own slice of happiness.”

  “You’re right. I’m tired of fighting against you. I want you. I want us.”

  “Then you’ve got me, all of me, for always.”

  Chapter Forty

  Jamila

  My eyes flutter open to a commotion outside. No, that’s not right. Voices, deep voices, talking and barking out orders. I don’t sense danger coming for us, but it does feel late in the day, and my eyes are sore from fatigue.

  Rolling over, the sheets soft against my skin, I find Raphael gone, the sheets on his side cold.

  I sit up, clutching the sheets to my chest and look at the fallen angel painting, feeling the same way looking at it now as I did the first time I saw it. Its power consumes me, reminding me of Raphael. I wasn’t lying when I said I trusted him, because I do, especially when it comes to defeating the DiMarco’s. But when it comes to my heart, I’m not so sure. The pull is as strong as ever, but this time, I’m not as easily willing to fall. Not yet, anyway. I want him, and I’m not going to stay away from him, but the little voice in the back of my mind won’t go away, telling me that he’s going to crush my heart again.

  Hearing a growl coming from the bathroom, I slip out of bed, drag on my clothes, and head inside to find Raphael perched on the edge of the clawfoot tub, tending to his wound.

  “Lila did well. I don’t think it will scar too badly.”

  “I’m glad.” Going over to him, I sit beside him as he rewraps his thigh. “I’ve been thinking. When we leave this room, we have to be professional. You can’t be holding my hand.”

  He snorts as he ties off the bandage. It’s not as neat as Lila’s work, but it’ll do the job just the same. When he’s finished, he turns to me, forgetting all about his leg.

  “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. I’m not wasting a single second when it comes to us.” Lifting his hand, he cups my cheek in his large hand, and I can’t help but lean into his touch. “I’m not holding back. If I want to hold your hand, I will. If I want to kiss you, I will. And if I want the world to hear I love you, I’ll yell it loud and fucking clear.”

  His words have always been able to knock me over when he declares how he feels for me, but the little voice is growing louder. Trying to ignore it, at least for a little while, I place my hand over his.

  “And talk to Trey. I don’t want him overstepping.”

  “Trey knows where he stands.”

  “Make sure he does, or I will. I messed up once, but it won’t happen again.”

  I can understand his reasoning with Trey to a certain point, but it still doesn’t stop the anger rising at his insistence that I can’t control the men around me.

  “I thought you said you didn’t want to fight me anymore?”

  Because I can feel a fight coming on if he doesn’t back down. If I say Trey knows his place, then he should take my word for it.

  His mouth opens, but instead of saying something, he laughs. “Fine. I hear you.”

  With that out of the way, we both wash and dress for the day.

  I’m stuck wearing Sienna’s jeans and her sweater, as well as a pair of her boots. They’re as expensive as my clothes, but it doesn’t feel right that I’m wearing them.

  Pulling my hair back into a ponytail, I glance once more in the mirror, satisfied.

  “Ready?” Raphael asks with one hand on the doorknob.

  Nodding, we head downstairs. Although he doesn’t hold my hand, he stays close as we head into the dining room. For being shot in the leg, it’s not stopping him from getting to where he wants to go.

  The grand table is stacked with a variety of weapons and ammunition.

  Strolling the length of the table, I run my fingers over each gun. There must be hundreds of them here of all different types.

  Raphael pulled through.

  He stands with Cristian, who’s speaking to him, but his eyes are on me. I can feel them everywhere I go, searing into me from every angle.

  “Father DiMarco has moved base from the church to your estate. There are three brothers, and they have around two hundred and fifty men. I’m not sure how many more they can call on from outside of the city.”

  Moving my focus away from Raphael, I turn to Trey who’s standing before me, but not looking me in the eye. Holding his chin high, his hands clasped behind his back, he’s acting more like a soldier than my closest confidant.

  “They’ve also got forty men guarding the grounds.”

  “How do you know this? Have you not slept?”

  The bags under his eyes say I’m right, but the alertness there says I’m wrong.

  “I know this because I’ve been up since midday. I had a group of our men go and find out. I would’ve knocked and asked for your permission, but I didn’t want to disturb you and whatever you were doing with Marocchi.”

  Venom oozes from lips, making the small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I won’t ever regret the more intimate times we spent together, seeing as it’s what I wanted at the time, but I can’t keep repeating myself. He knew, as I always made it clear to him, it was, and always would be, nothing more than sex.

  “Mila.” I look over my shoulder at Raphael. “We need to talk to the soldiers.”

  Jerking my chin, I let him know I’ll be there in a moment and focus on Trey.

  “You need to talk to the soldiers, not him. There is no we.”

  Sighing, I go to walk away, not wanting to have this conversation in front of everyone, when he latches onto my wrist and stops me.

  “You need to stop whatever is going on with him. Just because he bent the knee, doesn’t mean he’s not your enemy. Kisses are all well and good until they suck the life out of you.”

  Looking down at his hand, I notice how his skin turns white from the strain of gripp
ing my arm so tight.

  “You need to step back. I’ve survived Raphael Marocchi many times, and I will survive him always. If you don’t let go of me this second, you won’t survive beyond this room.”

  I barely recognise my own voice, and the anger I felt earlier toward Raphael for interfering in my relationship with Trey turns tide, and is now aimed at Trey.

  The blood rushes through my arm as he uncurls his fingers, and I’m faced with the stone wall of Raphael’s chest when I turn to walk away.

  “Are you still trying to tell me he doesn’t over-fucking-step?” he growls. I push against his chest until he takes a few steps back.

  “I haven’t got time for this. Round up the men and have them head around to the back of the house.”

  I leave them both behind and head for the kitchen, surprising myself as to how quickly I’m learning to get around this house. A place I’ve considered blowing up many, many times.

  “If you bruise, he dies,” is whispered in my ear when I stop to grab a bottle of water from the counter in the kitchen.

  Briefly closing my eyes, I realise how much I hate men’s need to be above one another.

  “If I bruise, it won’t be the first time a man has caused me injury, and I’ll deal with it myself.”

  It angers me how he assumes I bruise like a peach. He still sees me as a fragile flower, one he needs to protect at all costs.

  “Stop this, Mila. You can’t expect me to stand by when someone puts their hands on you.”

  “Unless I ask for your help, that’s exactly what you do. We were enemies for a long time, and just because you have my trust, doesn’t mean you have everyone’s. Not yet.”

  He inhales deeply and exhales slowly, clearly frustrated. “Is there more to you and Trey I should know about?”

  Rolling my eyes, I look outside to see many of our men have ventured around back. “Listen, I don’t like repeating myself, so please don’t make me tell you twice.”

  Outside, I wait on the patio where Trey steps up beside me. I don’t have to look to know it’s him; I can smell his cologne.

  Putting his fingers to his mouth, an ear-piercing whistle quietens the crowd, forcing their attention to me. Raphael steps up on my right side, his arm brushing against mine. Standing between the two men, both always trying to one-up the other, is tiring. I take a small step forward, breathing easier on my own.

  Swallowing thickly, I begin. “From now on, the Marocchi house is our base. You know who our enemy is, and you all know we don’t back down from a fight. We’ve fought each other for so long, it’s all some of us know. This is different. This time, we’re fighting for our city, and life after will not revert back to life as it once was. This is our city, and we will have a new Vita once the last DiMarco has fallen. We’ve always fought for peace, and this time, we will achieve it. Fight for your families, for your sons and daughters to grow to be anything they want to be. To leave their homes in the morning and return that night without worrying for their lives.”

  Taking another step forward, I focus on the line of men before me. “I understand what we’re asking of you, fully aware of the risks you’re going to be taking. And if you lose your life for Vita, for me, I want you to know you will never be forgotten. I will take care of your families. You will not have died in vain. Those of you who see this through to the end, you will also be compensated.”

  I sense Raphael moving closer, but he doesn’t come to my side.

  “However much Jamila pays, I’ll match it. We have fought each other for so long, some of you will find it difficult to stand shoulder to shoulder, but you have to forget everything you once knew. Today marks a new era in Vita. We fight together, and we’ll win together.”

  Roars and cheers grow louder, with hands pumping into the air, uniting as one. Ducking behind Raphael, I jerk my chin toward Trey and then at the house.

  Today is a new era in Vita, and everyone needs to learn where their place is going forward.

  He follows me through the kitchen and into the foyer.

  “Before you say anything, I want to apologise for how I acted before. I would never harm you, Jamila.”

  He sounds sincere, but it’s not enough for me. “I can’t keep saying this, so please, for the love of God, listen real good. You work for me, and we have worked well together for many years. I rely on your judgement, and you’re one of the few people I actually trust. Your position isn’t going to change along with the new changes taking place, but you need to step back when it comes to my personal life. I’ve made sure I haven’t given you hope of anything more with me, and I know you know this.”

  “Yeah, you’ve made it real clear. Tell me, though, what happens when he betrays you? You’re going to take us back into a war you’ve just promised won’t be the case.”

  The next words out of my mouth are ones I’m going to have to stand by. “I trust he won’t.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Raphael

  Watching her rile the men up for the upcoming fight was compelling. How her father thought she was only good enough to marry off for a stronger alliance is beyond me. As she spoke, I watched the men soak in her words like a sponge. They follow her, not because of who she is, but because they believe in her.

  Now I watch on as she puts Trey in his place. I meant what I said earlier, that if she wouldn’t, I would. I should be grateful he’s been at her side and kept her safe all these years, but the feral, jealous side of me is much stronger, and blinds me to that fact most of the time.

  “The guards have a shopkeeper out front. He says he has a complaint and a message from the DiMarco’s,” Cristian informs me.

  Perfect. It’ll be a good excuse to get Mila away from Trey. It doesn’t begin to calm my jealousy, as it’s not in my nature to please anyone else when it comes to what I want. Only this time, it’s Mila I want, and we’re already treading a thin line. Biting my tongue and holding back at her command is something I have to learn to do, just so I don’t lose her. I don’t fucking like it, though.

  “Mila, we have business to attend to out front,” I tell her, limping past them.

  A middle-aged man stands between two of my guards and steps forward when I reach the top of the steps. The deep lines creasing his forehead, along with the heavy bags under eyes, tells me he’s had a hard day. Hell, maybe a couple of them.

  He waves a scrap of paper at me as I descend the steps, biting my tongue through the pain. Handing it over, I look down at a check for a little over eighty thousand dollars.

  “What is this?” I question, just as Jamila joins us.

  “I had a visit from the new guys in town. They already had a contract drawn up to buy my business and this check in their pocket. Of course I refused, but they made it clear that if I don’t sell, they’ll take it, and I’ll lose everything.”

  “What is your business?”

  “I’m a locksmith. It’s only a small business, but it keeps me going and pays my bills. I told them I’d come straight to you about this and they laughed. They told me to tell you they will not stop until Vita is theirs, but they will stop the killings if the two of you give yourselves up to them.”

  It’s my turn to laugh. The audacity of these people is ridiculous.

  “Anything else?”

  “You have twenty-four hours to hand yourselves over or they’ll strike hard.”

  I pass him his check back as Mila moves closer to him. “Do you want to fight with us?”

  He steps back and shifts uncomfortably before us, almost like he’s wary of telling us his answer, yet strong enough to deliver it truthfully.

  “I’m not a fighter, Ms. Camarco. I’m a simple man who just wants to provide for my family. I don’t concern myself with your fights, and I’ve survived this long because of it.”

  “Very well. I’m sure you’re aware this is a case of life and death. These men won’t leave this city alive. Cash the check, let them believe you’ve backed down, and I promise you, you’ll have
your shop back at the end of this.”

  His mouth falls open and snaps shut. “You’re saying I should keep their money?”

  “They won’t need it. This isn’t like the fight you’re used to in Vita. They can’t take their money to their graves.”

  He nods once and turns to leave, but thinks twice and turns back to her. “Should I spread the word to the other shopkeepers to follow suit? Some have been badly hurt for refusing.”

  “Yes, that would be helpful. Thank you.”

  Another nod and an uplifted smile, the old man shuffles back down the drive and out through the gate.

  Cristian and Trey follow us into the house and through to the office, with Cristian closing the door behind us.

  “So, in twenty-four hours, they’re going to strike hard. At least we have a time frame now so we can prepare,” I say, falling into the chair behind the desk.

  “Or it gives us a day to come up with a plan to hit them from the inside after giving ourselves up. I know that house better than anyone,” Mila suggests.

  “No, not happening,” Trey snaps at her, and for once, I agree with him.

  “What do you propose we do, then?” She’s calm. Almost too calm.

  “We do what we know best—we fight,” Cristian declares before Trey can open his mouth.

  “How long will that take, though? Our families have spent two centuries fighting, and it took us years to get to this point.”

  “That’s a valid point, Mila. However, we’re not fighting people we know anymore. There’s no one at the top backing down at the last moment because they’re in love with the opposition.”

  She narrows her eyes at my cousin, and I don’t blame her. He’s stepping close to the line, though he’s not wrong.

  “Which brings us back to the question: what are we going to do?”

  “We prepare for the fight of our lives, starting with giving our soldiers the weapons they need to win.”

  They all look to me, and silently, it’s agreed.