Killer Romances
Page 24
Vittorio’s eyes twinkled. “Ah, now who is the flirt?”
“I cannot help myself around a handsome man either,” she said.
Enrico slipped his arm around her shoulders. “You will make me jealous.”
She nudged him playfully with her hip. “I only have eyes for you.” She surprised herself. It was true. When had that happened?
They sat down and removed the metal covers from the dishes. The meal was simple—cold cuts of various meats alongside olives, cheeses, fresh fruit, and a small pastry. And of course cups of rich, steaming espresso accompanied everything.
They chatted pleasantly while they ate, Vittorio inquiring about Kate’s family and what she thought of Italy. She kept her remarks light and positive, not wanting to trouble the man. He accepted what she said without comment, then he surprised her. “Signora, I must extend you my regrets regarding what happened with your husband.”
“Please, call me Kate. And there is no need to apologize.”
“It was a terrible thing, and I have had some involvement in the matter.”
“Oh?”
Enrico gave him a look she couldn’t read, but Vittorio didn’t seem to acknowledge it. “The conflict with the Andrettis dates back many years. It stems partly from my advice to Enrico’s father.”
Interesting. “What was your advice?”
“I thought he could do business with Andretti without getting hurt. I was wrong.”
“You knew who Carlo Andretti is? That he’s a mobster?”
Vittorio nodded. “I thought he was a reasonable man. He is not.”
Kate let out a little sound of agreement. “Far from it.”
“He will want you dead for killing his nephew.”
She thought for a second, then started to laugh. The most ironic thing just occurred to her.
“What is it?” Vittorio asked.
“Vince is the one who taught me to shoot.”
Vittorio smiled. He studied her for a moment. “You are at ease then, with killing him?”
The smile left Kate’s face. “‘At ease’ is an overstatement. But I have come to terms with it. And I would do it again.”
Vittorio nodded. “I can see it on your face. Most people, especially most women, I think, would not be so determined.”
“There really was no decision to make. I was not going to die and neither was Enrico.”
Vittorio took a sip of his espresso. “You are an unusual person.”
“No, just very practical, in the end. I’m not happy I had to kill him, but I did learn something important about myself that day.”
“What was that?”
“I learned what my limits are. What I will and will not tolerate. And it turns out, my limits are not what I thought.”
“How so?” Enrico asked.
“You were there, Rico. I wouldn’t let him rape me, and I wouldn’t let someone else kill for me. I wanted my revenge on him, for hurting me.” She smiled, but not pleasantly. “I’m more vindictive than I thought.”
“I think killing him was more about survival than revenge,” Enrico said.
She gave him a hard look. “Then why didn’t I let you or Ruggero finish him?”
“I had not wondered about that.”
“Yes, you have. Don’t tell me it didn’t cross your mind that I could be Andretti’s spy.”
Enrico looked at her in surprise. “It did. But I soon dismissed it.”
“I would hope so. You’d be an idiot to keep me around if you thought I was a threat.”
He held her gaze. “I would indeed. I have seen what you can do.”
“Practice, practice, practice. There’s no point doing something if you can’t do it well,” she said lightly, even though it seemed odd to be joking about shooting someone. She really had come to terms with it. Who was this person in her body?
Vittorio chuckled. “I like you very much, Kate. I hope you will make my Enrico happy and join the family.”
Kate’s heart stuttered. What had Enrico said to him about her? Was that the “business matter” Enrico had wanted to discuss with him? She smiled gamely. “Mille grazie, Vittorio. I like you very much as well. I know how much Enrico means to you, and I’m humbled you think I’m a worthy companion for him.” Kate gave a mental sigh of relief. There, it was the truth, but it didn’t signal her intentions.
“Cara, would you mind giving us a minute alone?” Enrico asked.
She nodded and hurried away from the table, heading back to the dock. She didn’t want Enrico to see how unnerved she was. Was he planning to ask her to marry him? Was this all about getting his godfather’s blessing? Shit, shit, shit!
When Kate was out of hearing range, Enrico turned to Don Battista. “So, do you think she can bear the truth?”
His godfather nodded. “Of course, I could be wrong.”
“And if you are….” Enrico inhaled deeply. “I can’t kill her, Don Battista. I can’t.”
“I see that. Yet you can’t marry her and not tell her who you are.”
“I know.” Enrico shook his head. “I hate this.”
Don Battista leaned forward. “You are, as the English say, on the horns of a dilemma, my son. But remember this: the ’Ndrangheta comes first. You took the vows; you know the price you will pay if you don’t honor them. I cannot save you. If you tell her and she doesn’t accept you, you must kill her. And it would be a shame; she would make a lovely wife and mother of your children. Such spirit. She reminds me of Antonella.”
“Me too.” Enrico looked up at the old don. “And that worries me. Is that why I love Kate?”
Don Battista pursed his lips, considering. Then he shook his head. “She’s like Antonella, yes. But different. She’s her own person.” He looked at Enrico for a moment before continuing, and Enrico wished he could read his godfather’s mind. “She cares about you, but she doesn’t love you the way Antonella did. She holds herself away from you.”
“She knows I’m keeping something from her.”
The old don sighed. “Either take the risk and tell her, or send her away now.”
“I can’t let her go. I don’t trust Carlo not to hurt her.”
“Then you must risk hurting her.” He paused. “Better for her to die at your hands, than his, yes?”
Enrico recoiled at the idea, but he had to admit there was a perverse logic to it. At least he’d make sure she didn’t suffer. “I’m not sure I could do it and not kill myself afterward.”
His godfather studied him. “So this is what Domenico meant.”
“What did he say to you?”
“You’ve changed.”
Enrico snorted. “When haven’t I been this way? I never should have been capo.”
“Why did you take it then?”
“How could I disappoint my father after all he’d suffered? With Primo and Mario dead, I was all he had left.”
“You did the honorable thing, my son. You always have. That’s why I love you so much.” The old man’s voice roughened with emotion and he coughed to clear his throat. “But you must decide now what is most important to you: what the family needs, or what you want.”
“I’ve already decided. I’ve already jeopardized so many lives for her.”
Don Battista nodded. “There are some in La Provincia who think you need to be replaced.”
“Benedetto, I assume.”
“He’s not alone.”
“Who then?”
His godfather looked at him for a moment, then his eyes shifted toward the trees that sheltered his home. “I’ve defended you, but I must admit to having my own doubts. You will have to answer for this. Carlo has petitioned his brother for a hearing.”
Enrico wasn’t surprised to hear that. But he didn’t like to hear that Don Battista doubted him. His pulse sped up. “You think I should step aside, and let Dom take over?” The knot in Enrico’s gut doubled in size. If he lost his godfather’s support, it was all over.
“No. I know what he wan
ts to do to the cosca. The drugs, the girls—” Don Battista shook his head in disgust. “It would be against everything your father and I have stood for. I know it may be a losing battle, but I won’t let the ’Ndrangheta turn into a cesspool without a fight.”
“I don’t want that either.” But I don’t care about it as much as I care about her.
The old man sighed. “You know what you must do, my son. What is best for everyone.”
Enrico nodded, feeling defeated. “I know. And I will do it.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but he felt he didn’t succeed. He rose to leave, but the don stopped him.
“There’s one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“This disagreement with your cousin needs to be resolved, very soon, or it will break the cosca apart.”
“Which disagreement? The one about Kate or the one about the codes?”
“Both. He is hardening his heart against you. I didn’t like what I heard in his voice.”
Enrico bristled. “Dom is not the one in charge.”
“Then make sure that you are.” Don Battista’s voice was firm, his tone final. “Your cousin needs to know that.”
Enrico nodded. “Thank you for the advice, mio padrino.” He quickly kissed Don Battista on both cheeks. He was turning to leave when the don stopped him again. What now?
“I have a surprise for you.”
“You do?”
“Your father is here, in Capri. If you wish to see him, call this number.” Don Battista handed him a slip of paper.
Enrico looked down at it, his stomach flipping over. “Did you arrange this?”
The old don shrugged. “Rinaldo has run from his problems long enough.”
“But they’re my problems now.”
Don Battista shook his head. “Carlo has a long memory.”
“So do I.” Images of his brothers riddled with bullets and bathed in blood flashed through his mind.
“I will call you with the details for the meeting with La Provincia.”
He thanked Don Battista, then left to find Kate, wishing his godfather had thought of some clever solution to his predicament. But of course there was nothing. There never had been. He was in this for life, or he was dead. And if he wanted to live, he had to protect the cosca. There was no other choice. Even if it meant cutting out his own heart. He could still run things without one.
CHAPTER 22
The entire boat ride back to the hotel, Enrico pondered when and how to tell Kate he was the Lucchesi family capo. The best time would be on the trip back to the lake. They’d be trapped in the car together; she wouldn’t be able to run out on him. He’d have plenty of time to explain; she’d have plenty of time to think. And if it went wrong… well, at least he could control the situation. He’d need to talk to Ruggero in advance. He couldn’t pull the trigger himself.
Damn it all, who did he think he was fooling? He couldn’t kill her, and he couldn’t ask Ruggero to do it either. No matter what Don Battista said. No matter if it cost him his own life. He simply could not do it.
He had to send Kate home, didn’t he? But then, if Carlo went after her and killed her, everything he’d done—taking her under his protection, breaking the truce, violating his vows to the family—all of it would have been for nothing. And considering Dom had no doubt informed Carlo of his choice regarding Delfina, it was certain Carlo would want his revenge on Kate.
He had to take the risk, had to tell her, had to make her understand.
It was the only way.
Enrico hardly noticed what Kate said during the boat trip. He didn’t recall when she stopped talking either. He only knew when they were back in the room that it was suddenly quiet. Too quiet. “What is wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Do not try to hide it from me. I know you by now.”
She let out a skeptical sound. “Not as well as you think.”
“What do you mean?” What had he missed?
“I know you were talking to Vittorio about our future together, but I can’t stay.”
His senses all jumped to high alert. “What is this about?”
She looked away. “You don’t love me. You still love her.” Her voice was soft.
“That is not entirely true. I do love you. But there is room in my heart for her as well.”
Kate turned eyes like ice chips on him. “That is hardly a ringing endorsement. Besides, if you loved me, you would trust me. And you would tell me your big secret.”
Damn it—couldn’t she wait a little longer? He couldn’t tell her here; what if she got hysterical? “That has nothing to do with trusting you. There is a lot more at stake.”
“So you say. If you loved me, you would tell me.”
“I will tell you. Very soon. Please trust me.”
She looked at the tiled floor. “There’s no point to this anyway. I don’t love you, Enrico.”
A chill swept him up and down, and his ears filled with white noise. “What?”
“I told you from the start, this was just about fun.” She crossed her arms.
“But it is more than that now.” At least it is for me.
She closed her eyes. “I only slept with you to get revenge on Vince.” He thought he detected a quaver to her voice.
She is lying. She has to be. “That is not true.”
“I’m a vindictive person. You’ve seen how far I would go to hurt Vince. I shot him, for God’s sake!”
What is wrong with her? “If that were true, if that were all of it, then why have you continued sleeping with me?” His voice was too loud; he was almost shouting.
She hunched her shoulders. In the smallest voice, she said, “I was terrified of Carlo.”
“You thought I would not protect you if we were not sleeping together?”
When she nodded, it was a knife to the gut. “You think so very little of me?” His voice shook and he hated the sound of it, wishing he’d said nothing.
She started to nod again, then she shook her head. She looked up at him, her eyes full of tears. He wanted to go to her, but he was about to cry himself, and he didn’t want her to see that. He headed for the bathroom, hearing her break into sobs, the sound piercing him.
Enrico shut the door and took a breath, pressing his palms into his eyes. He had to get control of himself. He couldn’t fall apart the way he had when Toni died. The stakes were too high now; he couldn’t afford to drink himself into oblivion for weeks on end. Yes, Kate had just cut his heart out. But no one else could know. He’d have to bury that sorrow; he’d have to dig its grave deep.
When he thought he could look at her again, he took a box of tissues to her. At the sight of her tears, his eyes grew hot. He wasn’t as strong as he’d thought. “Here,” he said, shoving the box at her in his haste to get away. Fumbling with the sliding door, he stepped onto the terrace. Madonna. How was he going to bear this?
He was staring at the sea when he heard her behind him. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“I am sorry too. I wish you had been honest with me.”
“I was. I told you from the beginning how I felt.”
He started to object, but it was true. “Then I wish you had not kissed me the day of the attack. I wish you had not been waiting for me that night in the study.” He couldn’t stand how raw his voice sounded.
She touched him on the forearm. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
How dare she play stupid. He pinned her with his eyes. “You had to know what would happen. You had to know you were encouraging me.” He stopped himself from saying more, wishing that he could be neutral, that he could somehow bear this without letting her know she’d lacerated him to the core.
“I thought…” She let her hand drop away. “I thought for a while maybe things could work between us.”
The tentativeness in her voice gave him hope. He took her by the shoulders. “They still can. If you trust me.”
“I can�
�t. I just can’t.”
Anger frothed up in him, hot and dark, and he let go of her abruptly. How could she do this to him? How could she make him love her, how could she listen to him pour out his heart? How could she do all that, and then push him away?
She tried to touch him again and he jerked away. It took everything he had not to yell. “Leave me. I need a while to myself.”
He heard her breath catch and then the scuffing of her shoes as she walked away. When the door to their room closed behind her, a strangled sound, halfway between a sob and a moan, forced its way out of his constricted throat. He pressed a fist to his mouth. He would not cry. He would not mourn.
He’d leaned on the edge of the terrace for countless minutes, maybe hours, his eyes staring at the water but not seeing it, the late afternoon sun hitting his face, when he saw Kate shuffle by below, wiping her eyes, the damn tissue box still clutched to her chest.
He looked away from the gleam of her auburn hair and the flutter of her flowered dress in the wind, but like a magnet, she drew his eyes back. He watched her for a while, his anger receding. If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t be suffering, would she? Hope flared in his chest, a sun in miniature, warming him from the inside out. She did love him.
He wanted to be angry with her, but this was his fault entirely. He’d told her he loved her, but he hadn’t shown her that love. He’d helped her, yes, but he hadn’t trusted her, not in the way that most mattered. Was it any wonder she was pulling away?
He needed to show her that he loved her more than he loved anyone else, including himself. That he trusted her. He’d have to tell her everything. Everything that could send him to prison.
And he’d have to introduce her to his father, so she’d understand how this life could be her death. If she was going to stay with him, he wanted her to do it with wide open eyes.
He pulled out his mobile phone and the number Don Battista had given him. His hand shook so much he had to punch in the numbers twice.