by Cora Reilly
It was early December when the sound of footstep woke me up and drew me out of my room. Fina stood in the hallway, both twins in carriers and a backpack on her back.
She looked up. Shock flashed across her face as if I’d caught her in the act. It was late, so she couldn’t have any appointments with the twins. Mom was already asleep, and Dad, Sam, and Uncle Dante were busy. Of course, nobody had bothered telling me what kind of business they had to conduct—not that they ever did, but the level of secrecy they’d all kept made it clear that whatever it was, it was important.
The moment Fina’s eyes met mine, I knew something was wrong.
“Where are you going?” I asked, my heart clenching tightly. Fina looked like she was about to run away.
Fina’s expression softened. “I’m leaving. I have to.”
I hadn’t expected Fina to tell me the truth. My parents and Sam usually gave me a sugarcoated version of events.
“Because of Greta and Nevio?” I stopped beside my sister. Both Nevio and Greta were asleep in their carrier, looking tiny and adorable. I loved cuddling them. “You’re leaving us,” I whispered, realizing I might never see them again. If Fina ran away, I wouldn’t be allowed to see her.
“I have to, ladybug. For my babies. I want them to be safe and happy. I need to protect them from the whispers.”
I hated the way people badmouthed the twins. They were only babies, but people hated them because they looked like Remo Falcone, the enemy. I leaned down and kissed their chubby cheeks for the last time. I wanted Fina to be happy, and she hadn’t been since before the twins were born. Everyone always stared at her as if she were an alien. Still, the idea of losing Fina and the twins cut me deeply.
“I know what people say about the twins, and I hate it. But I don’t want you to go . . .” My voice broke.
“I know. Give me a hug.”
I hugged her tightly, trying to memorize everything about her. Her crisp Calvin Klein perfume, her smooth hair, her warm hugs.
“Don’t tell anyone, please,” Fina whispered.
I pulled back. “You’re going to go back to their father?”
Fina nodded. She rarely spoke about her kidnapping, but whenever she’d mentioned Remo Falcone, she hadn’t sounded as scared as I’d expected. Sometimes, she even looked wistful, and now I knew my gut instincts had been right. “Do you love him?”
“I don’t know,” Fina said, her blonde brows pulling together.
How could she not know? But then I remembered my confusing feelings for Danilo and understood. Emotions weren’t always black and white. “Dad won’t allow me to see you anymore, will he?” I asked, my eyes prickling with tears that I tried to hold back for Fina’s sake. I didn’t want her to feel guilty.
Fina looked away briefly, blinking rapidly. “I hope one day he’ll understand.”
I didn’t understand why Dad and Sam disliked the twins so much, but it had become more obvious every day. They hated Remo so much that they couldn’t see anything but their hate. I couldn’t imagine them ever being okay with Fina going back to Las Vegas, even if it were for love and her twins. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too. I’ll try to contact you. Remember, I love you, ladybug.”
Tears tracked down my cheeks as I watched Fina descend the staircase. I gripped the banister until I heard the soft click of the front door as Fina slipped out of the house. I wasn’t sure how Fina would get off the premises or past the guards, but she was clever and determined. She’d find a way.
I returned to bed, but I couldn’t fall back asleep. My thoughts were with Fina, wondering how she’d get to Las Vegas. I wanted her to be safe. I considered going to Anna. She, Leonas, and Valentina had spent the night here since Uncle Dante was doing business. But I’d promised Fina to keep it a secret. I trusted Anna, but I didn’t want to drag her into this mess and force her to lie to her dad.
I must have fallen asleep eventually because I was woken by angry shouts. I scrambled out of bed to investigate the reason for the shouting. My heart raced, expecting an attack. Instead, I found Mom, Dad, and Samuel facing off with Dante.
Mom was crying hysterically. I was trying to understand what was going on. Everything happened so fast, I barely had time to come to terms with what was happening. And then my parents threw Anna and her family out of our house. I watched everything, mouth agape, heart clenching hard. Anna gave me a fearful look. I’d never seen our parents scream at each other, much less throw each other out of the door. When the door closed behind them, I suddenly realized that I might have lost Fina, the twins, and Anna all in one day.
Mom rushed upstairs, Dad following behind her. Her wails rang through the house and brought tears to my own eyes.
Sam walked toward Dad’s office and I trailed behind him. He poured himself a drink and downed it, then sagged into one of the armchairs, looking disheveled and heartbroken. I crept toward him and touched his shoulder, wanting to give him comfort. He and Fina had been inseparable, and now she was gone.
“She chose him. She saved him,” he gritted out, and then he told me how Fina had gone to a safe house where they’d kept Remo Falcone to kill him and she’d saved him. Dante had let her go and now my family blamed my uncle for losing Fina, but she’d made her choice to leave—not Dante. He’d only honored her wish. I didn’t voice my thoughts and listened to Sam’s increasingly drunk ramblings. When he mentioned Danilo, I perked up.
“Danilo was there?”
Sam nodded and staggered to his feet to grab another drink.
“Why was he there?”
Sam was already unsteady on his legs, and I wished he’d stop drinking but I couldn’t tell him what to do. He snorted. “Because Danilo’s been dreaming about tearing Remo fucking Falcone apart since the day he stole Fina from him. We’ve all been dreaming about it, about finally getting our revenge. But did we get it? Fuck no. Dante took that from us, and now Fina’s gone just like any chance at revenge we ever had.” He downed the drink.
I’d foolishly hoped that Danilo had gotten over losing Fina, that he’d moved on, but if revenge was still on his mind that obviously wasn’t the case. “Why can’t you just move on?” I whispered. It was the question I wanted to ask Danilo.
Samuel laughed bitterly. “Move on? There’s no fucking way I can just move on. I lost her, and nothing and no one could ever replace her.” He slumped in his chair, looking like he was seconds away from passing out.
I knew Samuel didn’t mean to hurt me, and I knew I could never replace Serafina. She and Samuel had always been a unit. They were twins. Their bond was special, and I’d always accepted it. Yet, after hearing his words, I felt crushed, knowing that the same thoughts were probably going through Danilo’s mind. He’d wanted Fina, had chosen her, and now he was left with me instead. Samuel’s breathing had evened out and his eyes were closed. I carefully removed the glass from his hand and put it on the table. I left him in the armchair and crept out of the room. When I arrived upstairs, I heard Mom’s crying coming from their bedroom. For a couple of heartbeats, I hovered in the hallway, wondering if I should knock and try to console her.
But Mom was a private crier. She probably wanted to be alone, so I passed the room by.
That night when I lay in my bed, I allowed myself to cry.
After a moment of exhilarating euphoria yesterday when Remo Falcone had handed himself over in exchange for his younger brother we’d captured, after hours of seeing him getting tortured and torturing him myself, my mood had now hit rock bottom.
I raced through Minneapolis, not even sure where I was going. I’d waited for this day for months. I’d lost count of the times I’d imagined how to dismember Remo, how to bring him to his knees and make him beg for mercy. He did neither. Till the very end, his air of arrogance remained untouched. It didn’t matter what we did to him, he kept up that arrogant smirk. Maybe if we’d gotten the chance to go through with our plan and cut his fucking dick off, he would have finally begged, but
we were thwarted.
After all our struggling and effort, Remo Falcone had won. Serafina, the woman he’d kidnapped and dishonored, had saved him with Dante’s help.
I’d felt an onslaught of guilt when Serafina had been kidnapped and even after she’d returned to us broken, a shadow of the girl I thought I knew. Now, anger took up more and more of my emotions, becoming almost overpowering. The instant she’d pointed her gun at us to protect her kidnapper—our worst enemy—I’d hated her. It was one thing to be born on the wrong side and to not know any better like most Camorrista, but it was unforgivable to be raised in the Outfit and defect. Woman or not. She could have sent her twins to Las Vegas and stayed where she belonged—in the Outfit.
I pulled into the parking lot of a random bar, not even sure if it was one of our own or if it belonged to the Bratva. I didn’t care. I killed the engine and got out of my car.
Inside the dingy, dimly lit bar, I downed one shot after the other. The barkeeper didn’t ask any questions or try to prevent me from getting dangerously shitfaced.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a blonde woman. My heart skipped a beat—for a moment, I thought it was Serafina. I wanted to kick myself for my own idiocy. I downed the rest of my drink and thumped the glass on the counter. The barkeeper refilled my glass without a comment. Upon closer inspection, the woman down the counter from me had no resemblance with my ex-fiancée except for the similar hair color. Every inch of this woman’s face spoke of a life full of hardships and frustrations. Serafina had lived in a golden cage. She’d never had to work for anything, fight for anything, and the first time she did it was to save our enemy and betray all of us.
Bitterness poisoned my insides. I was caught up in a self-destructive spiral, but I couldn’t shake myself free of it.
The woman noticed my attention and smiled. She wasn’t my type. Too unnatural, but she was exactly what I needed. I got up, walked over to her, and sank down on the bar stool beside her. Up close, she barely looked like Serafina, but I didn’t care. After a short chat and a few more drinks, we stumbled into the restroom together. I fucked her hard against a bathroom stall, her front pressed against the wall, her back to me. I focused on her blonde hair and let out my frustration and anger. Remo had taken Serafina from me, had stolen her innocence and her heart. I could imagine his feeling of utter triumph every time he fucked her, knowing he’d taken this from me. I came with a violent shudder and untangled myself from the woman in front of me. I wasn’t sure if she came, but I didn’t care. She didn’t look unhappy as she leaned up to me and rasped something into my ear that I didn’t understand before slipping a piece of paper into my pocket. She stumbled out of the stall, and I braced myself with one arm and disposed of the condom. For a long time, I stared at the graffitied wall, feeling sick to my stomach and not sure if it was the result of too much alcohol or my tasteless fuck in a dirty restroom. I straightened my clothes and stumbled out of the restroom. After dropping money on the counter, I staggered to my car.
Once behind the steering wheel, I stared straight ahead, trying to stop my vision from spinning. I closed my eyes, considering where to go. The hotel was out of the question. My family and I had been staying at the place for as long as I could remember. I wouldn’t show up there in this pitiful state. My parents had enough to deal with without worrying about my drunken escapades.
There was no way I could drive myself to another hotel or cheap motel. After what had happened with Emma, I’d never drink and drive. I didn’t need to add another layer of guilt to my already heavy conscience.
Back in Indianapolis, I’d have just called Marco and asked him to give me a lift to his place. Though he’d probably be as shitfaced as me. We usually spent these kinds of shitty nights together. Eventually, I pulled out my phone and called Pietro.
He answered after the second ring, no sign of sleep in his voice, only a deep, all-consuming wariness. “Danilo, what can I do for you?”
Maybe showing weakness to another Underboss was a mistake. Pietro was one of the better men in our world, but he was still a Made Man, and keeping face in front of him was important. He wasn’t the backstabbing, gossip-spreading type, and he’d also be family one day. He would already have been family, if not for Remo Falcone. The anger I’d dulled temporarily with liquor and a meaningless fling with a girl lightyears from reaching Serafina’s grace erupted inside of me again, lighting up the embers of my thirst for revenge and blood.
“Danilo?” Concern now mingled with the exhaustion in Pietro’s voice. Perhaps he was one of the very few people who understood my turmoil. We’d both lost something. But what he’d lost couldn’t be replaced.
“I’m too drunk to drive. I’m stuck in the parking lot of some shithole bar. Can I spend the night at your house?”
“Of course,” Pietro said without hesitation. He didn’t even ask why I didn’t just return to the hotel I’d booked. “If you give me the address of the bar, I’ll pick you up.”
I nodded as if he could see it through the phone, then told him where I was. I wasn’t sure how long it would take Pietro to reach this part of the city. I’d driven aimlessly through the streets before I’d finally stopped here.
My eyes fell shut as I gave in to the heavy fog the alcohol spread in my head.
A knock at the window jerked me from sleep. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep, but when I peered out of the window, Pietro stared back at me. I straightened and pushed open the door. My legs were wobbly. I’d obviously drunk even more than I’d thought. Pietro scanned me. I knew I was a pitiful sight, but he didn’t comment and wouldn’t spread gossip about me. By our standards, he was a good man.
He didn’t offer to help me as I staggered toward his car, even though I obviously could have used it, for which I was grateful. I wanted to keep a sliver of my pride.
Once I plopped down on the passenger seat, a wave of nausea washed over me, but I battled it down. I wasn’t a fifteen-year-old boy who’d overdone it at his first party. Pietro slid behind the steering wheel and started the car. He rolled down the window and lit a cigarette.
Before the thing with Serafina, I had never seen him smoke, but I supposed each of us had our own vice to deal with recent events.
We didn’t talk. I was too drunk, and Pietro, albeit not drunk, looked like he was hungover.
“Is the Capo still at your house?” I asked eventually. The note of mutiny in my tone might have caused me my head on any other day. Not that I cared.
“No, he and his family left for Chicago.”
“Home sweet home,” I muttered.
Pietro took a deep drag and nodded. Our families were in shambles for various reasons, but Dante had kept his in perfect condition.
We arrived at Pietro’s mansion fifteen minutes later. The house was dark, except for a room upstairs.
Pietro sighed.
“Your wife?” I guessed.
He nodded. He’d never been very talkative, but now he seemed to have become selectively mute.
“What about Samuel?” I asked. I wasn’t sure why I couldn’t just shut up.
Pietro took a final drag from his cigarette, stomped in on the ground, and led me toward the front door. “He lost his twin.”
It wasn’t much of an answer, but at the same time it was. Samuel and I weren’t exactly friends. Our personalities clashed too much to like being around each other, but I respected him. I’d lost my fiancée—my future wife—when Remo had kidnapped her and had gotten Sofia as a replacement. For Samuel, there wouldn’t be someone else who could take his twin’s place.
Pietro led me to one of their guestrooms on the second floor, then excused himself.
I dropped down on the bed, shoving my shoes off and not bothering to undress. Seconds after my body hit the mattress, I passed out.
I stumbled downstairs, still in my nightgown. Yawning, I stepped into the dining room, which smelled of coffee and pancakes. Our maid Adelita gave me a quick smile before she rushed back out, prob
ably to get whatever was still missing. Dad was the only one sitting at the table, which was unusual enough. Usually Mom was always up early and the first to make sure the breakfast table included all our favorites—especially on the weekend.
“Good morning,” I said, my voice rough from sleep and crying.
Dad looked up from behind his newspaper. Dark shadows spread below his eyes, and when I kissed his cheek, the stench of smoke drifted into my nose.
“Are you smoking again?” I asked, worried. “That’s not healthy.”
Dad gave me a small smile, then he scanned my outfit. “Maybe you should get dressed.”
My brows furrowed. “It’s the weekend.”
“Danilo spent the night. He might be down any moment, and I’m sure you don’t want to be in your nightclothes around him.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “Why is he here?”
Dad looked down at his newspaper. If he was reluctant to tell me, it could only be about Fina. “He wasn’t doing so well after your sister helped Remo escape, so I picked him up last night and let him spend the night.”
I nodded, my eyes beginning to prickle. “Of course. Umm . . . I’ll get dressed now.” I stepped back and headed back out.
I’d thought Danilo was over Fina, but if Dad had to pick him up, he must have been very drunk—like Samuel.
Lost in my thoughts, I trudged through the second-floor corridor when someone stepped out of one of the guestrooms. I noticed too late and ran right into him—Danilo, of course.
He grabbed my upper arms to steady me. I glanced up, cheeks burning. Danilo was in a crinkled shirt and dark pants that smelled faintly of alcohol and smoke. Yesterday’s clothes.
His eyes were bloodshot and swirled with a myriad of dark emotions that filled my heart with dread. I’d never seen him like this. He looked heartbroken over my sister running away. It wasn’t the reaction of someone who didn’t care about her anymore.