Unknown Territory: Mafioso Series Book 3

by Serena Light

  "Mom and dad were over at the estate to check in on Marina and Michele and left sometime after dinner and were attacked by Jayson's men on their way home. They had an entourage of total 8 men, but they were obviously outnumbered." Salvatore rubbed a hand over his forehead. "They...they called me and I left with a team to get them, and by the time we arrived, mom had been shot in the arm, and dad got cut, and four men died, but we managed to kill Jayson's men and get them here safe,"

  "They're alright, right?" Arsenio asked, both him and Marco having joined when Alessio approached them.

  "Yeah, they're fine,"

  Both the brothers let out a relieved breath to hear that, taking a step back to recompose themselves as Alessio crossed his arms over his chest and clenched his jaw.

  "You know why all of this is happening don't you?" Alessio turned to Salvatore with a glare.

  "It's a vendetta, of course I know," Salvatore squinted at the nature of his question, wondering how stupid the man before him could be.

  "No, you know why this vendetta is happening," He looked at Salvatore expectantly, the Mafia Boss waiting for him to get to his point as his brother in law gritted his teeth and prowled towards him. "It's because of your fucking wife all this shit is happening to us,"

  "Hey!" Both Marco and Arsenio exclaimed as Salvatore pushed Nicole behind him, glaring at his sister's husband.

  "We were all perfectly happy before you went and got married to her! We were doing great before you married her! Since you married her there has been nothing but strife for us! My wife is in a coma because of her; your parents were attacked because of her, next thing we know one of us would be dead because of her! If you had never married her, Jayson would not have felt the need for this fucking vendetta! We are in this mess because of her and you haven't done shit!"

  Salvatore didn't say anything and instead brought back his fist and slammed it straight into his jaw, Alessio stumbling back as Marco went to him and Arsenio intercepted his brother's way.

  "You think Jayson is doing all this to get to Nicole?" Salvatore seethed as Arsenio held him back. "You think I haven't retaliated?"

  "The first thing Jayson did to signal the beginning of his Vendetta was to have Nicole's best friend mugged and riddled with bullet holes. I burned down his drug storage. He put Serafina in a coma, and I slit his sister's throat. Jayson is not doing this to get to Nicole, he is using the excuse of getting Nicole to try and end my family, and the fact that I'm married to her gave him an excuse to start a Vendetta under the pretense that he wants her back. And even if he did, I would never give her back to him, even if it costs me my life. "

  "So don't you fucking dare try and pin this on my wife," Salvatore growled at him as his elder brother pushed on his chest to keep him from approaching Alessio whose jaw had begun turning green. "Because I can very easily blame my sister's condition on you saying it should have been fucking you on that bed and not her!" His voice grew harsher and louder and ricochet off the wall causing Nicole to jump back in fright as her ears rang.

  "This is the consequence of being a fucking Mafia household! Not marrying Nicole,"

  "Salvatore," Arsenio grunted, knowing, seeing that his brother had trouble reigning in his anger. "Salvatore, enough!"

  "Salvatore," Nicole finally found her voice and regaining her composure, going over to her husband, she put a hand on his chest and stood before him, cupping his face into her hands and having him look down at her. "Hey, I'm here, agapou moi, I'm here. It's enough, okay, it's enough."

  He looked down at her, seeing the soft smile on her lips and exhaled deeply, regaining his composure and taking a step back before walking away, no one trying to follow after him as he stepped out in the night.

  No soon had he disappeared from sight, Arcangelo stepped out of a hospital room with a bandage over his forehead, Rosalie beside him with her arm in a cast, the couple looking at the four people before them.

  "What happened?" Arcangelo asked in confusion, looking at the faces of those around him, noticing the bruise forming on Alessio's jaw and took in the expressions of everyone around them. "Okay...probably best not to ask,"

  "Excuse me," Nicole murmured and went in the direction her husband had gone, finding him to be standing outside in the parking lot, the early June night providing him with company. Sighing, she made her way to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, Salvatore looking back at her. "Hey,"

  "Hey,"

  Standing beside him, she wrapped her arm around his waist and rested her head against his shoulder.

  "Mom and dad are out," She informed him as he hummed in acknowledgment. "Ready to go inside?"

  "Not yet," He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at the gravel beneath his feet.

  "I know it's difficult," Nicole came to stand before him, cupping his face into her hand and rubbed her thumb over his jaw, noticing how sunken his cheeks had gotten. "But getting angry isn't going to make anything easier, sweetheart,"

  "I know," Salvatore murmured, looking away. "I just couldn't stand him pinning this on you,"

  "It's the mind's need to blame, don't take it to heart," She lowered her hands to be resting against his neck as he looked at her quietly. "I didn't. He's just hurting, is all. We all are,"

  Her husband sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking down at his wife in silence as she offered him a comforting smile.

  "Want a kiss?" She asked him and got on her tiptoes when he nodded.

  Nicole cupped his face into her hands as Salvatore encircled her waist, leaning down to connect their lips. The kiss was slow and gentle, and allowed him to regain control over his mental state, allowed him to feel the heat rush through him and feel the way Nicole's body was pressed to his or how soft her lips were, how they gently coaxed the darkness out of him, and allowing light to flood in through the cracks. They remained kissing for a moment before he pulled back first, his wife looking up at him in adoration and Salvatore had to wonder: where had she been all his life?

  "Feeling better?"

  "Much," He nodded and rubbed circles against her side.

  "Feel you can go in now?"

  "Yeah,"

  "Shall we?" She asked and began to walk towards the entrance with his hand in hers before coming to an abrupt halt when he pulled her back. "What?" Nicole looked up at him in confusion, not understanding when he wrapped his arms around her waist and placed a kiss on her forehead.

  "I know this probably isn't the best time," He murmured against her skin. "But, buon anniversario, dolcezza. Happy anniversary, sweetheart,"

  Nicole fell silent and looked down at her wristwatch, sighing to see it being 2 a.m.

  "I wanted to wish you at 12," She admitted and buried her face into his chest, Salvatore holding her close. "1 year since we've been married and we can't even celebrate it,"

  "Tell me about it," He scoffed to lighten the mood.

  "I always imagined doing something special for the 1st,"

  "We will," Salvatore assured and held her at arm's length, noticing the resigned look about her. "We'll have a big celebration once everything settles down, yeah?"

  "Promise?" Nicole looked up at him from below her lashes, holding out her pinkie to him.

  "I promise," He spoke with determination before hooking his pinkie around her and giving it a kiss as she giggled at his antics, knowing that she had Salvatore Regnante's word and that was all the assurance she needed.

  Chapter XXXII: Making Sense

  Every single one of the Regnante family had been moved to the estate.

  Salvatore would rather that they all stay home, but given their careers, they couldn't afford that and were now provided with an entourage of 5 men per person.

  After the attack on his parents, Salvatore had become increasingly more worried and paranoid about their safety, he had begun sleeping even less and getting him to eat something had become a virtual impossibility. Nicole had been watching his behavior grow increasingly erratic for the
initial few days: having put his family on house arrest before Arsenio talked sense into him after which he enforced the entourage of five men.

  Then after the initial unpredictable behavior dissipated, he fell quiet. He hardly spoke, lost interest in his work, grew increasingly fatigued day by day, and there was the constant look of guilt about him which had Nicole choking back the lump in her throat. When she talked about the guilty look to Tazio, he gave her a strange glance and said that she's just imagining things because he's fine.

  "He's not fine!" She had bristled at the second-in-command. "How do you expect him to be fine with all this shit going on happening to his family?! No sane person can be fine with all this!"

  After that, Tazio had made the effort to maintain his distance from her, he didn't tell Salvatore because her husband didn't ask about it.

  She just wanted to help him, she really did, but he wouldn't say anything. He refused to respond when Nicole tried to pry. Having quit her job, it provided her with the opportunity to watch him. She tried getting him to eat, but he wouldn't even take a bite, she tried engaging him in activities to get his mind off things, but he was quick to lose interest. Sometimes he just sat on the sofa with a file open before him and just blankly stared at the page, not comprehending the words written.

  Nicole knew he needed sleep.

  She knew that if he managed to get even a couple of hours of sleep, he would feel a lot better, a lot more like himself. But he wouldn't regain composure until he had rested, and given the way, he had been working nonstop and dealing with various matters constantly and hadn't gotten a wink of sleep since his parent's attack.

  And for that very reason, Nicole wasn't surprised to find the side of the bed vacant of his presence when she turned to cuddle into his side. With closed eyes, she moved her hand over the empty space, noticing it to be cold. Fumbling with the lamp, she squinted at the brightness before groggily sitting up in bed.

  "Baby?" She called out sleepily, waiting for a response and rubbing her eyes to see the light pooling out from the closets. "Salvatore?" She tried again and pushed the duvet off her before stumbling out of bed, making her way across the room.

  "Salvatore?" She called out softly and stood in the doorway of the closet, blinking away the bleariness and looking at her husband in confusion when she watched him pacing the length of the floor, shaking the inhaler in hand as if thought he was preparing to take a shot and brought it to his mouth, but instead would lower his hand just to shake it again and repeat the process without taking a hit.

  Walking over to him, Nicole placed a hand on his back, taking a step back when he jumped in fright as if though he hadn't realized she was there, looking at her with wide and panicked eyes, his breathing labored and his chest heaving with the actions.

  "What's wrong?" She asked him when he shook the inhaler once more.

  "I think I'm having an attack," He wheezed through the tightness in his chest and rubbed at his arms when pins prickled at his skin. "But...it won't come,"

  "Since when have you been feeling like this?" Nicole ran a hand through his hair, feeling the dampness on his scalp as she suddenly noticed the tremors going through him, her throat running dry to see him like this.

  "It's been a while...now..." He spoke, his voice breaking for a moment before he cleared this throat, the sound of blood rushing through his ears infiltrating his mind, and drowning out his surrounding sound.

  "Come," She tugged at his arm, the word distorted in his mind. "Sit down,"

  With buckling knees, Salvatore folded on the bench, bracing his knees as his lungs continued to tighten and he rubbed at his chest due to the pain it was causing him. The sound of his blood rushing had him lose his composure and made the room spin around him with his heart pounding.

  A shuddering breath left his mouth when he suddenly felt the inhaler being taken from his hand.

  "No! I can't-" He began to protest when Nicole took it from him and held it behind her back, placing a hand on his chest when he tried to reach for it. "I can't-I can't breathe!" He wheezed in desperation, his eyes wide and begging her to understand.

  "You're not having an asthma attack," His wife shook her head, cupping his face into her hand and trying to make him look at her. "It's not an asthma attack-"

  "-I can't breathe-!"

  "-It's a mental breakdown,"

  Salvatore looked at her incredulously, looking at her as if though she had grown another head and shook his head, pressing his lips into a thin line and shook his head as tears prickled at his eyes.

  "No," His voice cracked. "No, no, no. No. No. No."

  "It's all too much, Salvatore," Nicole tried to make him see. "You were bound to break with what you've been going through,"

  "No, I'm not-" He tried to deny it, lowering his head when his heart pounded and his vision blurred as if though he were looking through a fish-eye lens, the lump choking him as he gasped for breath, shaking his head as his hands grew clammy and trembled. "No, I'm not-"

  "Baby, it's okay," She tried to assure, gasping in surprise when he pushed her away, causing her to fall back as he stood up from his seat walking away from her and shaking his head. "Salvatore?"

  He didn't respond as he stood with his hands on his hips, trying to calm his erratic breathing, and closing his eyes to stop his vision from doubling.

  "It's okay,"

  His chest tightened as he gasped for breath, trembles going through his body before his stomach began to churn in unease, forcing him to clutch the front of his black tank top and brace the closet with his other hand. His heart pounded and the sound of the blood rushing through his ears made the room spin around him and before he knew it, he swiped at his cheek to wipe away the tears.

  With a trembling breath, he took a step back, catching sight of his reflection in the full-length mirror: his black sweatpants sagged around his waist with the tank top looking a lot more ill-fitted than the last time he wore it. His olive complexion had become ashen and his eyes sunken with his hair an unruly mess.

  "No. No. No."

  The panic started like a tightening of the chest, as if the muscles were trying not to let another breath in, but instead to die. Then the breath comes, shallow, lungs unable to move much against the suddenly heavy ribs. Then his mind becomes static, thoughts making no sense, and replays horrors once forgotten

  A sudden cold sensation went through him before a surge of iron-hot rage had him drive a punch through the mirror, not even hearing the frightened shriek his wife let out behind him. Before he knew it there was screaming, they were his, but it seemed so distant. Tears streaked down his face and time seemed to go in fast forward as he grabbed the gun on one of the counters and shot the glass doors of his wardrobe, screaming and sobbing as it all shattered around him, the music surrounding him and forcing him to collapse to his knees. All he saw was the blood covering his knuckles and the glass creating a circle around him. Before he knew it, he was sitting on the floor, limbs unwilling to work at all.

  He had no idea how long he sat on the floor: head rested on the bench, bloodied knuckles, cheeks flushed, tears streaming down closed eyes and shuddering breaths escaping past his lips with glass surrounding him.

  A gentle touch to the top of his head had him open his eyes, the room doubling and spinning around him as the voice sounded distant, saying something that sounded a lot like a consolation, feeling her arms hugging him tightly. And before he knew it, he was struggling to his feet, a hand under his arms as the glass clinked by his feet as he struggled to get up.

  His speech was slurred as he tried to get words across, the taste of plastic infiltrating his mouth as someone pushes his inhaler past his pale and chapped lips. The bitter taste of his medicine flooded his senses as he grabbed the device with trembling and blood-soaked fingers.

  Taking a deep inhale, he found himself in their brightly lit washroom, his senses slowly returning to him as the sound of running water drew nearer. Blinking, his vision cleared from a blurred im
age to show the porcelain tiles beneath his feet. Slowly lifting his head he looked towards his left, finding his wife soaking a towel in her hand as a first aid kit laid open beside her.

  He must have said something because she suddenly looked up at him, giving him a gentle smile before standing in front of him and cupping his face into her hand, rubbing her thumb over his cheek and wiping away the tears.

  "Eísai tóso gennaíos, agapité mou."

  'You're so brave, my dear,' Salvatore understood what she was saying in some deep crevice of his mind, feeling his cheek warm-up where her hand rested and rubbed the skin beneath her thumb. They stood in silence for a long moment before she placed a kiss on his cheek.

  "Let's clean this up, shall we?" She inquired with a gentle smile and grabbed the towel she had been soaking in the sink.

  Grabbing hold of his bloodied knuckles, Nicole wiped away the blood, making sure there wasn't any glass in the wound before cleaning the broken skin with alcohol swabs, Salvatore wincing at the sting as she apologized.

  "I broke the glass," He murmured quietly, looking down in shame as Nicole looked at him from below her lashes. "I made a mess,"

  "Messes can be cleaned up," His wife assured as she grabbed a bandage and wound it around his knuckles. "We can clean up the broken glass,"

  "I shouldn't have-"

  "-Hush," She silenced him. "It's okay, things like this happen. You are allowed to feel like this, you are allowed to all this. It feels a lot like your whole world is crumbling around you, and not only can you not hold it together, but you have this hysterical feeling of urgency and the overwhelming urge to just crawl into a ball and you have no need to apologies for it. You don't have to apologies for being human."

  Salvatore looked at her in silence, not able to connect the dots and try to understand how she knew.

  "How do you-?"

  "Because I know how a mental breakdown feels, cuore mio," She offered him a smile, having wrapped up his bloodied knuckled individually and looking over her handiwork. "I used to have the most traumatizing mental breakdowns before I married you," She placed a kiss on his cheek as he looked at her with furrowed eyebrows, wanting to ask what she meant by that, but falling quiet when she began putting things away.