by Bree Porter
I pressed my head to the window, sleepy after spending hours with Alessandro the night before. There was a pleasant soreness between my legs, not painful, but just a reminder of the countdown finally being over, our relationship cemented in all ways.
The countryside passed as we headed home. Stretches of fields and trees, all dressed prettily in snow and twinkling Christmas lights.
A little cottage stood alone in a field, grey beneath the sunlight. There was something familiar about it–
We drove past a sign that said, JEAN’S BEND.
“Alessandro! That’s Eloise Pelletier’s land. Pull over.”
My husband shot me a weird look. “Why?”
“I want to have a look. Aren’t you curious?”
He slowed down the car, but didn’t stop.
“There’s not going to be any Pelletiers lying in wait, darling,” I told him. “Imagine how symbolic it would be if we bought the last of the Union’s land in Illinois? Come on, let’s go and check it out.”
He looked at me.
“Dante needs a change. He’s got his poo-face on.”
That convinced him.
Alessandro did a U-turn, Oscuro and Beppe following us in confusion. He pulled over on the side of the road, the snow crunching beneath the tires. As soon as the car stopped, the December cold began to seep through the windows and doors.
We got out, wrapping our coats around ourselves to fight the chill.
“Everything alright, boss?” Oscuro called.
“This is Eloise Pelletier’s land. We’re going to check it out.”
Neither Beppe nor Oscuro seemed to want to do that.
I grabbed Dante’s diaper bag and changed him quickly in the back seat. From the corner of my eyes, I could spot Alessandro and Beppe striding over the property, tense and alert. Oscuro stood by the car, watching me.
“Let’s go and see what daddy’s doing, yeah?” I wrapped Dante up and shrugged on his little beanie. He instantly tried to yank it off, so I trapped his hands in the blanket. “I know, I know. You don’t like anything on your head.”
Oscuro followed us as Dante and I tried to catch up with Alessandro, his heavy footfalls matching my speed.
“Alessandro!” He was too far away to hear my yell, so I drew myself to a halt. “These men,” I muttered.
Dante mewled in my arms.
“Not you, of course, my love. You’re exempt from all my irritation toward your sex.” I turned to Oscuro. “Do you remember the Corsican Union war?”
“I was very young. But my father used to talk about it.”
“What did he say?”
Oscuro shrugged. “What everyone said. It was bloody and horrible. And only ended with the Pelletiers being sent to jail.”
“Pelletier’s son is out of jail now.”
“No one knows where he is. I always assumed he was taken out by the Union. They’re not very fond of rats.”
I nodded, casting my eyes around the property. “This really is the last piece of land owned by a Pelletier in Illinois?”
“There is no other.”
“Strange. Why didn’t Don Piero scoop it up?”
“I’m sure he had bigger things on his plate than some old woman’s inheritance,” Oscuro told me.
I stepped toward the cottage. “Let’s go and check it out.”
Alessandro and Beppe had reached the tree line. I saw them say something to each other before turning back and heading toward us.
The cottage, itself, was terribly unkept, with rotting wood and rust lining the windowpanes. I didn’t want to get too close and risk Dante, so I walked around the little house, eyeing the mould and cracks.
My foot caught on something sharp and I squeaked.
“What on Earth—?”
I looked down and shrieked.
“SOPHIA!” Alessandro came skidding around the corner of the house, both Beppe and Oscuro in his wake. “What—Oh, fucking hell.”
“Is that?” Beppe asked.
“Yes. That’s a skeleton.”
Half-buried, half-frozen, a skeleton laid on the ground. Their hollow skull peered up at me, almost accusatory.
I stepped back, holding my son tighter. “Don’t look, my angel.” I pressed his face to my chest. “My God, did Eloise kill someone?”
“It could be anyone’s skeleton.” Alessandro sounded more inconvenienced than anything. “Let’s go.”
“Shouldn’t we try and identify them?”
My husband looked like he was going to say no, but something in my expression must have changed his mind because he jerked his chin to Oscuro, “Grab a bone. We will send it to Li Fonti.”
Oscuro approached the skeleton with care, trying not to disturb it too much–like the person who had originally owned it would mind. He grabbed a small bone in the arm, yanked it, and when it didn’t come out of the snow, yanked it hard.
The bone came out, a flash of golden light—
“Oh,” Oscuro held up the bone. A finger bone–most likely the wedding ring finger, if the golden band was anything to go by. It was a beautiful ring, engraved with a message I couldn’t quite make out. “I know that ring. Alessandro, isn’t that—”
I looked to my husband and stepped toward him in concern. My husband’s face was gray in its complexion, his entire body tense, and his eyes so dark he looked near possessed.
“Alessandro…” I stepped toward him. I didn’t understand his reaction. Dante tried to lift his head, sensing his father’s sudden shift in mood.
Beside him, Beppe also had gone a shade paler and was muttering, “Shit, shit, shit,” under his breath.
I looked back to the skeleton and felt the pieces click into place.
“My mother’s wedding ring,” Alessandro said, his voice as cold as the winter frost that surrounded us. “That’s my mother’s wedding ring.”
“Why...” Oscuro breathed.
“I assume we just found the place my father stashed my mother’s body.” My husband’s demeanor had changed, darkened. I knew that if my father-in-law had been here with us in this moment, my husband would have tried to kill him.
I laid a hand on his arm, trying to swallow down my horror. “Let’s not rush to conclusions. We will test the bones for DNA and go from there.”
But I already knew what the DNA test would say and so did my husband.
I found my husband the next day in his study.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the golden band on his desk. In response, I twisted my own rings. My wedding band was my own, but the engagement ring had been passed down from woman to woman—including Danta.
Alessandro had a brooding look on his face, hard and stone-like. Whereas my anger seemed to make me louder, more volatile, my husband’s worst anger seemed to make him quieter, sharper.
I knew which one of us had the most terrifying anger, and it definitely wasn’t me.
“What did the lab say?” he asked.
I had given the skeleton’s bones to some of the scientists at Rocchetti Alzheimer’s Support. It hadn’t taken them long to get back to me with a match, and the news was not good, but expected.
“The DNA matches one Danta D’Angelo.”
Alessandro looked up at me, eyes black. I shifted under his attention, not understanding this anger of his, but refusing to show any fear. He was my husband, my heart, the father of my child. He would never hurt me.
He leaned back in his chair, stare never leaving me. “So, my father kills her and leaves her to rot on Eloise Pelletier’s land. Why?”
“I...I do not pretend to know the reason why your father does anything, Alessandro,” I reminded him. “But we should not point fingers without proof.”
“Everyone believes my father killed my mother. You don’t?”
The image of Danta’s crossed out eyes filled my mind, except now they looked hollow and empty. Bloody whore, bloody whore, the words rang through my brain like a bell.
I swallowed. “No. I don’t.�
�
“Well,” Alessandro said, “I wish you had told me that sooner.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“Because he is coming over here.” My husband rose from his seat, revealing the gun at his waistband that the desk had hidden. “Go upstairs, my love. You do not have to see this.”
I didn’t move. “You’re not going to kill your father. It wasn’t him, Alessandro. I think it was the Union—”
“This is not the time for guessing or thinking.” His tone wasn’t cruel, just factual. “My Sophia, just because you believe he is innocent, that does not mean he is. He is a crazy man, a mafioso with little honor. Killing the mother of his children would have been just another Tuesday to him.”
“Is that so?”
I spun, swallowing down my cry of surprise.
Toto the Terrible stood behind me, dark eyes darting around the office with wild delight. They went to the desk and caught sight of the golden band.
In an instant, his expression changed.
“Where the fuck did you find that?” he asked darkly.
“Sophia,” Alessandro warned, his voice implying he wanted me to go upstairs and barricade myself in our room. I didn’t leave.
Toto stepped forward, the movement nothing but threatening. “I asked you a question, boy,” he hissed to his son. “Where did you find that ring?”
“Where you left it,” Alessandro said, cool as a cucumber.
A part of me wished for my husband’s burning anger. I knew it a lot better than I knew this other anger of his.
My father-in-law noticed his son’s strange mood as well. “And where exactly did I leave it?” he snarled, barely unable to contain his own anger.
I stepped back, pressing myself into the bookcase.
“Don’t play dumb,” Alessandro said. How many times had he said that to me? I almost wanted to laugh, not being on the receiving end, but kept quiet. “Everyone knows you killed my mother.”
“Why do you care?” Toto leered. “You don’t even remember your mother.”
If he was innocent, he was doing a spectacular job trying to convince us otherwise.
“That does not mean her murder can go unavenged.”
“She would not have done the same thing for you,” my father-in-law said. “You know she stepped out, took lovers.”
Alessandro’s expression flashed, the first real sign of the fury building up inside of him. “That does not warrant her death.”
Toto’s expression grew delighted and he looked to me for the first time. “Should you be dead right now, Sophia?” he asked. “Have you been stepping out and convinced my son that it does not end with you and your lover dead?”
“Enough!” snapped Alessandro. “This is between you and me, Father. Leave Sophia out of it.”
I held my chin up, meeting Toto’s crazy Rocchetti eyes. “I am on your side,” I told him. “I don’t believe you did it. So, choose wisely what you say to me, because right now, I am the only ally you have.”
“I don’t need your alliance, Sophia,” Toto said, turning back to my husband. “You truly believe I killed your mother?”
“You never gave me a reason not to.” Alessandro leaned against his desk. “That is as good as a confession.”
“Is it?” I asked.
I was ignored.
My father-in-law lifted his chin up, spreading his arms. “So, what if I did kill Danta? Strangled the life out of her? I was in my rights, boy. I was her husband and she my wife. That is how this world works. You may not like it, but that does not mean it will change.”
Alessandro did not agree with his father. “You had no proof.”
“I had enough. Leaving the house during the night? Abandoning her sons? Being cold to her husband? What could make a woman do that but foreign cock?”
My husband said nothing.
“You judge now, my son. But one day you may very well be in the same position. Mother to your children, love of your life, and instead of behaving how you both agreed to behave, she steps out, sneaks out in the night. Leaves her family to go take some French man’s dick up her—”
Alessandro lunged.
Like an elastic band snapping, my husband’s rage won out against his self-control and he took his father to the ground. Toto was caught briefly by surprise but met every one of his son’s punches with his own.
They rolled into the foyer, already blood trickling from behind them.
No guns, no knives. Just brutal strength and anger.
“Stop it!” I shrieked. “If you wake the baby up, so help me God.”
Neither of them stopped trying to kill each other. They went for weak spots with all their strength, so focused on their offense that they let the other person get some past their defense.
To my surprise, they both fought exactly the same. Half-feral, dirty. It was like watching two reflections beat the shit out of each other.
“Enough! You’re getting blood on my rug!”
The sounds of the fight bought Teresa into the foyer. “Oh my!” she gasped when she took them in. “They’re going to kill each other!”
As soon as she said that, I heard the crack of bones. They were moving too fast, too violently, for me to be able to figure out whose wound it was.
I wasn’t getting in there to try and stop them, so I rushed to the door, “Raul! Oscuro! Anybody!”
A few soldati headed my way, Beppe’s familiar face at the forefront. He pushed past me into the house, swearing when he took in Alessandro and Toto the Terrible.
“Is this for power?” he asked me.
“Oh, please, like I would let my crown be dependent on some fight in my foyer,” I snapped. I don’t know where the sudden burst of anger had come from, perhaps it was a mix of exhaustion and stress, but I made myself calm down immediately. “Alessandro thinks Salvatore killed his mother.”
“The tests came back as Danta?”
“It’s her,” I confirmed.
Beppe pressed his lips together and turned his attention back to Alessandro and Toto. His eyes roamed over the two men, trying to find a weak support, a point where he could intervene.
He rubbed his lips. “I’m going to go and get Cesco. Don’t let them kill each other.”
I’ll try my best, I mouthed, watching as they collided with the coatrack. The rack went down, hitting the floor with a bang.
If they broke my coatrack, I thought, I’m really going to go homicidal.
Alessandro hit Toto so hard that I saw blood fly across the room. Toto responded by going straight for my husband’s knee, the sound of it hitting the floor almost equivalent to pushing in a tin can.
Oscuro and Beppe arrived just as my husband grabbed Toto’s ankle, flipping him. Toto wasn’t down for long. He leaped up, throwing himself straight into my husband’s stomach.
They both went back down to the ground, fists flying.
“I’ll get Alessandro, you get Toto,” Oscuro instructed Beppe. “At the same time, one, two...three!”
Oscuro went in, Beppe close on his heels.
For a few seconds, it looked like all four of them were fighting, throwing punches and hits. But then there was semblance of order. Beppe got Toto around the neck, yanking him back in one smooth movement, “Woah there, Uncle Sal!”
Oscuro got Alessandro, grabbing him around the shoulders and tossing him to the side.
To no one’s surprise, Toto bit down on Beppe’s arm.
“Asshole!” Beppe threw Toto, and he went down to the ground.
Within seconds, he was back on his feet and—
Alessandro went for his father at the same time he went for him.
This time, Beppe stepped in between the two of them—something I wouldn’t have done for any amount of money—and shoved them both in the face.
That gave Beppe and Oscuro both the chance to grab the father and son, holding them tightly and pinning them to the ground.
Alessandro shook his head. “Get off me. I’m good, I’m good
.”
Oscuro followed the order but stayed close, ready to grab him again at any moment. I watched as my husband pulled back his shoulders, holding his head up. His eyes roamed over the foyer, taking in the blood and coatrack, before resting on me.
I gave him a displeased look.
Alessandro bowed his head in apology but didn’t stop looking at his father like he was ready to kill him.
Toto, on the other hand, had not managed to cool down. He struggled beneath Beppe, expression furious.
“Let me up,” he ordered.
“Can’t do that, Uncle Sal,” Beppe said conversationally.
“You stupid bastard.” Toto pointed a finger at Alessandro. “Come and fight me yourself, you pussy!”
That was enough for my husband to charge forward. This time, my feet moved before my brain, and I found myself pressing a hand to Alessandro’s chest. I grabbed his chin roughly and brought down his eyes.
“Do not,” I breathed.
Alessandro stared at me. I felt more than saw him relax. His shoulders uncoiled; his muscles softened.
I looked to Toto, who was still furious.
“Call Aisling,” I told Oscuro. “Call her now.”
Oscuro yanked out his phone and quickly called her, his eyes moving to Toto, understanding why I wanted him to get Aisling here.
If anyone on this entire Earth was going to calm down Toto, it was going to be Aisling. Or, well, I thought as I watched my father-in-law struggle, she would have the best shot.
Suddenly, Toto got Beppe by the balls, causing Beppe to release him in pain. Oscuro dropped his phone, moving like lightning, catching Toto by the legs.
Alessandro started forward but I held him back. “It’s not worth it,” I reminded him.
Toto was struggling in between both Beppe and Oscuro, who held him in between them like a rotisserie pork.
Oscuro’s phone clicked.
“Hi, Mr Oscuro!”
No, no, I looked to Oscuro’s phone.
“Mommy’s not here right now,” said Nora’s little voice. “She’s with the doctor and baby brother.”
My head turned toward Toto.
My father-in-law had gone completely still, his jaw slack and eyes wide. No longer fighting, totally in shock.
The only thought I had in my mind was: I was right. Calling Aisling did calm him down.