Salvatore: a Dark Mafia Romance

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Salvatore: a Dark Mafia Romance Page 18

by Natasha Knight


  “I’m here for Lucia.”

  She snorted.

  “How is he?” Salvatore asked me.

  “Critical. They’ll be in surgery for a few hours.”

  “Mommy, is Uncle Luke going to be okay? I got him his favorite candy bar too.”

  “That was sweet of you,” Izzy said, then looked up at me. “It may be best if Effie goes home. There’s nothing for her to do here.”

  “I’ll take her. You stay. Just call me as soon as you hear anything, okay?”

  “I will.”

  “I want to stay with you, mommy.”

  Isabella hugged her daughter again. “I’ll be home as soon as I can, but there’s nothing for you to do here. Go home, and bake some of those cookies Uncle Luke likes. Then you can bring them with you when he wakes up, okay?”

  “What kind of cookies?” I asked to distract Effie.

  Effie studied her mom then gave her a tight squeeze, whispering something in her ear before turning away. A tear rolled down Isabella’s cheek.

  “It’ll be okay,” I said, hugging her while holding Effie’s hand. “He’ll pull through. He’s almost as stubborn as you, after all.”

  She gave me a smile, then turned to Salvatore. “Are you staying with them at the house?” Her tone changed utterly when she addressed him.

  “I’ll take them there, and I’ve already got men stationed outside. I have to attend a meeting but will be back as soon as possible.”

  “Of course, another meeting. You see what comes of those meetings,” she said, gesturing to the door the doctor had disappeared behind.

  “Izzy,” I leaned in close so Effie wouldn’t hear. “Salvatore didn’t do this. I promise you that.”

  “Take care of my daughter, and take care of yourself.” She hugged me. “I have a gun in my bedroom,” she added in a whisper. “Nightstand drawer.”

  I pulled back. She had a gun? By her bed?

  “Here are my keys.” She pulled her car keys off and handed me the ring. I took it, still not quite believing what she’d just told me.

  “Let’s go, Lucia,” Salvatore said after giving Marco some orders.

  “Call me if you hear anything. Come on, Effie.”

  Effie and I followed Salvatore to the elevator and out to his car. Once we settled Effie and my crutches in the backseat, we climbed in. I spoke with Effie as we drove to her house, which was about half an hour from the hospital. Although she tried to hide her unease, it was evident she was anxious and unsure. Salvatore said only a few words, preoccupied. Maybe grateful for Effie’s presence, since that meant I couldn’t question him.

  Once we got to the house, I saw two cars parked along the curb with two men inside each one. Salvatore pulled up in the driveway, and we all climbed out, me last, since I had to figure out how to use the damned crutches, and putting weight on my foot made me wince every time. Effie held my crutches while I climbed out and watched me while Salvatore walked over to the men sitting in the cars by the curb and, I assumed, gave them instructions before returning to us.

  “Ready?” he asked, closing the door behind me.

  Effie nodded and walked ahead to the front door.

  “What meeting are you going to?” I asked, not sure if I liked him going to any meeting after Luke had just been shot.

  “Luke’s shooting is just one of the incidents. Two of our businesses have been attacked as well.”

  “What businesses?” I knew they had several shops, and I didn’t want to know what those shops fronted for.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “What matters is that what I feared would happen in time, what Luke was working on, is here now.”

  “Luke? But—”

  “He’s in the hospital, I know.”

  “Is it Dominic?”

  His face changed, and he looked just beyond me. “I’m not sure, Lucia.”

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “That the time for war, it’s dawning.”

  Salvatore’s phone rang, and he reached into his pocket to get it. “I’ll call you right back,” he said and disconnected the call. “Let’s get you inside and settled. I’d rather have you at home, but this will have to do for now.”

  We headed for the door. Salvatore slid the key into the lock and opened it. Effie went directly into the kitchen, leaving us alone for the time being.

  “You’ll be safe here. I’m leaving four men outside. They won’t let anyone in.”

  “Or out, I’m guessing.” He turned to me and took my face in his hands.

  “Correct.”

  He looked at me for a long moment.

  “This is one I really, really need to trust you on, Lucia. I don’t have time to go looking for you, and I can’t keep you safe if you disappear.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Good, because if you do, I’ll take my belt to your ass again, and this time, it’ll be a month before you can sit down.”

  “I said I’m not,” I snapped, not wanting that memory.

  He nodded then kissed my mouth, his hands still on either cheek.

  After walking him out, I glanced once more at the cars parked out front. One man sat inside each one. I wasn’t sure where the others had gone. Probably around the house. I didn’t care as long as they didn’t come inside. I closed the door and went to the kitchen to find Effie had taken out flour and a big bag of M&M’s, but even she wasn’t snacking on them.

  “I can’t reach the other stuff,” she said, her tone somber. “M&M cookies are Uncle Luke’s favorites. Mommy has the recipe on her iPad.”

  I smiled and squatted down to her level, rubbing her arms. “The doctors are going to do everything they can to make sure he’s okay, understand?”

  She nodded, but her face remained serious. “He and mommy had a fight last night. I heard them.”

  “Their fight doesn’t have anything to do with what happened. You know that, right?”

  “I’m scared, Aunt Lucia. What if he’s not okay? What if he doesn’t wake up anymore?”

  How could I answer that question, when I didn’t know myself the outcome? I stood and looked around, finding an apron, my mom’s, in the drawer she kept it in, neatly folded as if she’d just had it on yesterday. My dad hadn’t gotten rid of anything of hers. In fact, I was sure the closet in his bedroom would still be full of her clothes unless Isabella had packed everything up. I hoped she hadn’t.

  I slid the apron over my head and tied the strings at my back. “This used to be your grandmother’s apron,” I said to Effie.

  “She’s in heaven,” Effie said as she opened the same drawer and took out a second, smaller apron. “This one is mine. I got it for my birthday.”

  “Oh, that’s a pretty one. Shall I help you tie it?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay, let’s get started. Where does mommy keep her iPad?”

  “Here.”

  I followed her into the living room, where she opened a drawer in the coffee table and pulled out the tablet, punching in the code before handing it to me.

  “It’s 0-0-0-0.” Effie shook her head. “I cracked that one in no time.”

  I ruffled Effie’s hair and led her back to the kitchen, looked up the recipe saved in the Favorites tab, and we got to work. It took much more time than I expected because Effie insisted on using only the colors of M&M’s that Luke liked best, and she patterned them into individual smiley faces. We spent the rest of the day playing in her room or watching TV, and I reheated lasagna I found in the fridge for dinner. At eight o’clock, I took her to her room and read her a story before putting her to bed, anxious that I hadn’t heard from Isabella yet. When I’d tried her phone a few times, it had gone right to voice mail.

  I dialed Salvatore, who answered on the third ring.

  “Hey, it’s me.”

  “Everything okay?”

  He sounded rushed. “Yes, it’s fine. I’m just wondering when your meeting will be finished.”

  He sighed.
“I’m not sure, but I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just lock the doors and go to bed if you’re tired. Have you heard from your sister?”

  “No, and she won’t pick up the phone.” Someone called his name, a man I thought might be Roman.

  “I have to get back, Lucia.”

  “Okay. Call me when you’re done. I don’t care about the time.”

  “Make sure the doors are locked.”

  “I will.”

  “Be safe.”

  “You too.” We hung up. I walked around the house for the fifth time and made sure all the doors were locked. The cars were still parked outside, and I spied one man in the backyard at the far end. Still, I didn’t feel safe. I had no idea what was going on, and being here I felt exposed, like I was a sitting duck.

  Shoving those thoughts aside, I made a pot of tea then closed the curtains on all the windows. From the bookshelf in the study, I found some old photo albums. Taking two of them, I settled on the couch to wait for my sister to call or come home.

  That was when I heard the creaking of a door and footsteps coming from the back bedroom, the one my parents had converted on the main floor.

  I turned my head. “Effie?” But it couldn’t be her. I’d waited until she’d fallen asleep upstairs.

  The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and I watched the dark hallway as the steps grew closer. Terrified and unable to drag my gaze away from the shadowy space, I fumbled for my cell phone on the coffee table.

  I knew who it was. Who it had to be. But still, when Dominic stepped into the light in the living room, I gasped, shocked, suddenly shaking when my gaze fell on the pistol he held at his side.

  “Toss the phone, Lucia.”

  19

  Salvatore

  I walked back into the meeting room at my father’s house. About a dozen men were gathered around the table, all family, cousins and uncles. My father raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment on my having left the room to take the call.

  I hated leaving Lucia alone. She didn’t know to what extent things had progressed in the last twelve hours. Hell, I was shocked to hear it all myself.

  After I’d left Dominic’s house, my father had apparently gone ballistic on my brother. Roman filled me in on the details. Franco had been furious with Dominic. So much so that he’d apologized to Natalie himself. I knew he was going to her house to make sure she knew he would protect her, but to apologize? That wasn’t Franco Benedetti’s style.

  He’d also stationed men at her house when she’d refused to come to the city with him and stay at his house until things settled. She’d had no choice in the matter. He would do whatever he needed to do to protect his grandson.

  And he had sent Dominic to the house in Florida to cool off. To “get his head out of his ass” were apparently his exact words.

  The shooting of Luke DeMarco had surprised my father. It wasn’t done on his order and obviously not on mine. The video footage only showed two masked men walking into the bowling alley and opening fire. It was a wonder more people weren’t hurt.

  Two of our businesses, one a restaurant and another, a bicycle shop, both of which fronted for money-laundering operations, had been attacked, but no one had been killed. Nothing of the businesses connected directly to us, so investigators would not find anything linking the crimes, but this was only the beginning. Money was taken from both businesses, but the amount of cash wouldn’t have warranted the burglaries.

  No, a message was being sent.

  This was the prelude to a war.

  But Luke DeMarco’s shooting threw us off. He was working with the Pagani family. Why would he have been attacked?

  That was the piece that gave us all pause.

  “I feel real uneasy about this,” I said. “They wouldn’t have attacked DeMarco. Hell, if things had progressed to this point, DeMarco wouldn’t have been at a fucking bowling alley. Something isn’t right. It’s someone else.”

  “Isabella?” my father asked.

  Roman glanced at me.

  “I saw her at the hospital. She’s beside herself.”

  “You were at the hospital?” he asked.

  I’d told Roman where I was, but not my father. “They’re Lucia’s family.”

  His lips tightened. “You miss the point of everything.”

  “By point of everything, you mean my treatment of Lucia.” I knew. It wasn’t a question. “If it’s the fact I’m not a monster to her, then you’re right, I miss your point. Maybe you should have given her to Dominic after all.” The thought sickened me, but my saying it out loud to him, and in front of other members of the family, it only reaffirmed the fact that I would never allow that to happen.

  My father made no reply, which surprised me. But it also strengthened me.

  Every man in the room seemed to be holding their breath.

  “Leave Lucia out of this. She’s my concern and mine alone. Period. Let’s talk about the damage done, who’s behind it, and what we’re doing about it.”

  He exhaled but turned his attention back to the task at hand. I assumed he’d deal with me later, but when that time came, he’d learn there would be no more dealing with me. My strings had been cut. I was no longer his puppet.

  Maybe it took that contract to teach me that, to break me from my weakness, my cowardice when it came to Franco Benedetti. If any good could come out of something as terrible as stealing a life, this had to be it.

  “Back to who is behind this,” Roman began. “I believe the Pagani family is carrying out the attacks. I don’t believe Isabella DeMarco would have her cousin assassinated. Assuming that was the intent.”

  “What else would it be? They put two bullets in him,” I said.

  Roman agreed. “Maybe Isabella is a bigger threat than we gave her credit for. Maybe Luke was an underling, a cover for her.”

  “Maybe the Pagani family is acting alone?” I added.

  “No.” My father shook his head. “I’ve spoken with the senior Paul Pagani.”

  Paul Pagani Sr., an eighty-six-year-old man who still refused to hand over the reins of the family business to his son. Although knowing the son, I understood why.

  “He has not authorized any shootings, and he is aware of talks between DeMarco and his son. When he learned of it, he forbade any action.”

  “But his son could have gone behind his back,” Roman added.

  “And attempted to kill Luke DeMarco?” Stefano, one of my cousins, asked.

  “There’s something we’re missing,” I said, shaking my head.

  I caught Roman’s concerned look.

  “Pagani has stated if it is his men who carried out the shootings without his permission, they’ll be dealt with, but I’m not satisfied,” my father said. His phone rang, and he looked at the display. “Excuse me.”

  He stood, and although he didn’t leave the room, he turned his back to the table and walked a few steps away.

  The men at the table continued to talk, but Roman and I remained silent, listening to the call.

  “What do you mean?” my father asked, checking his watch. “That was hours ago.” Silence on the line. “You’ve tried him? His driver?” Silence. “Fine. Reschedule it. And find him.”

  When he turned to us again, he immediately met my gaze and gestured to the door. Roman also stood, and the three of us stepped into the hall and closed the conference room door behind us.

  “Dominic didn’t make his flight.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, alarm bells sounding.

  “I mean that was the fucking captain, calling to say he was about to lose his time slot,” my father snapped.

  I watched him try to call Dominic, but the call went directly to voice mail.

  “His driver is missing as well.”

  “Missing?” Roman asked.

  My father placed another call and spoke into the phone. “Get Natalie and Jacob packed up and to my house. I don’t care what you have to do to make that happen, but get them here now.


  “I have to go,” I said, pulling my phone from my pocket.

  “Godamnit, I need you here, Salvatore!”

  I stopped, took a deep breath in, and turned to face him.

  “Dominic has always wanted what you have,” my father stated. “What you will inherit from me once I am ready to retire. That’s no secret, not for any of us.”

  I listened in silence.

  “I don’t like all of the things he does,” he continued, the words obviously difficult to say. “I sometimes don’t like who he is.” He breathed in deeply. “But he is still your brother.”

  I shifted on my feet. My father didn’t usually resort to making me feel guilty to do something I didn’t want to do, and I wasn’t sure that’s what he was doing now, but what he said triggered something akin to guilt inside me.

  “I was harsh with him when I learned what he did to Natalie,” he said.

  “No, not harsh,” I disagreed. “It needed to be done. Dominic was the only person in the wrong on that one. Question is, does he realize it? Does he think so?”

  My father ran his hand through his thinning hair and sat on the chair just beneath the window. Seeing him weary—it was strange, felt wrong. I’d only ever seen my father as strong. All powerful. And ultimately, always in control.

  I always thought I’d celebrate his fall, his weakening.

  I went to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “I’ll look for him.”

  He sighed, nodded his head, then met my eyes and took my hand. “I’m too fucking old for this.”

  “Go upstairs, Franco. I’ll handle the meeting,” Roman offered.

  My father looked at him, shook his head, and steeled his spine before standing. “I’ll handle it.”

  Roman nodded. We both knew he couldn’t not handle this one. It would be seen as ultimate weakness.

  “Dominic is unsatisfied. Always has been,” he said to me. “I’ve always pushed him to want more. It corrupted him in a way.”

  I wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but wasn’t it? At least partially?

  He put his hand on my shoulder and came to within inches of me. He tapped his forefinger against his head. “He’s not right, not now. He can’t accept his place. But remember, he is your brother. Find him, and bring him home. Do that, and I’ll take care of him.”

 

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