Mafiosa (Blood for Blood #3)

by Catherine Doyle

  Shoot him. You have to shoot him.

  My hand was shaking.

  Your mother would be so proud of you.

  I took another step towards him, trying to propel myself into the deed.

  Do it, you coward. Show him that he’s wrong.

  He’s dead either way.

  I tried to press my finger against the trigger.

  I can’t. I can’t do it.

  The door behind me swung open and the silence exploded. Sharp, angry shouting swept into the room behind me. My attention splintered in two. My arm lagged. My breaths were coming in quick short gasps. The adrenalin was seeping out of me and panic was rising in its place. Libero was bleeding out in front of me, and all my bullets were still in my gun.

  Then there was a hand on top of mine, trying to prise the weapon from my grasp, and Luca’s voice, calm and insistent in my ear.

  ‘Give me the gun, Sophie.’ His other hand pressing gently against my back. I was still staring at Libero, his body folded over into a crumpled heap. ‘Give it to me.’

  A prick of relief in the back of my eyes. My grip faltered, the cool sleek metal leaving my skin.

  Nic was yelling at me. ‘Kill him! Kill him now, Sophie! You have to do it. She has to do it, Luca!’

  Luca yanked me backwards. A gunshot rang out right beside my head just as Dom and Nic roared together.

  ‘Donata!’

  I felt the vibrations of Luca’s recoil as the bullet sailed through the air towards Libero. And then, through the haze and the panic and the thwack of Libero’s body hitting the floor, came the sound of Donata Marino’s screams as her bullet sailed past my left ear.

  I jumped away from Luca, stumbled backwards, as Donata marched through the doorway, her gun raised. Her trench coat was buttoned all the way to her pointed chin, her hair coiled tightly in a bun. Her foundation was thick and her eyes were over-rimmed in kohl. She looked like her sister’s shadow – her sharp features and cruel mouth as terrifying as the gun she wielded. Her lips were a slash of crimson in the dimness. Luca lunged to the side as her next bullet exploded in the space between us. Nic grabbed the back of my coat and yanked me towards the back door, pushing Dom with him while Luca opened fire on Donata, narrowly missing her next bullet. He backed up after us, using the moment Donata noticed Libero’s corpse face down beside the bar as a distraction. We sprinted back through the fire escape as her howls filled up the bar behind us like an aria.

  ‘Il mio bambino! Mio figlio!’

  ‘Move, move!’ Nic snapped, as we fell into formation and ran from The Sicilian Kiss like our lives depended on it.

  We dropped into the parking lot, Luca out in front and Dom close behind him. Nic came around the back of me for extra cover as we sprinted towards the SUVs, our guns raised in every direction.

  ‘She’ll have backup!’ Luca called over his shoulder. ‘Keep your eyes open!’

  A flurry of shots exploded around us, and I didn’t have to look back to know that Donata was out on the roof of The Sicilian Kiss, spending all of her bullets on us. We could all hear her wailing into the night sky. ‘Ti scuoierò!’ Shot. ‘E ti ucciderò!’ Shot. ‘Molto Lentamente!’ Shot.

  ‘Zigzag!’ Luca roared. We covered our heads, panting as we skidded between a wave of bullets. We reached the SUV, flung the doors open as shields and threw ourselves inside, gasping and shaking. A bullet ricocheted off the windscreen – bulletproof glass – as Luca slammed his foot against the accelerator and sped out of the parking lot.

  Donata’s screams might have been thundering through the world outside, but all I could hear was Libero sneering inside my head, You failed! You failed! You failed! You’re a coward!

  I knew he was dead. But he would always be alive in my head, taunting me, freezing me in that moment where I had faltered.

  I failed.

  I was a coward.

  And now I had to face my punishment.

  PART II

  ‘We … are all in the same boat, upon a stormy sea.

  We owe to each other a terrible and tragic loyalty.’

  G. K. Chesterton, All Things Considered

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION

  Nic and Luca sat in stony silence up front, the car moving so fast it felt like we might break the sound barrier. Dom was beside me in the back seat, on the phone to Paulie, who had escaped to a nearby restaurant to wait out the Marino ambush. They were still trying to figure out what went wrong with their intelligence, how they didn’t know the Marino boss was planning to show up when she did.

  Dom just kept asking Paulie the same thing, his voice tinged with a strange mixture of confusion and awe. ‘What the hell was she even doing there?’ By the sounds of it, Paulie wasn’t coming up with any good answers, because Dom kept saying over and over again, ‘She must have known we were coming. She must have.’

  Finally, they seemed to settle on the same conclusion: ‘We have a rat.’

  A rat that was going to die slowly and painfully when they tracked him down.

  I tried to take solace in the fact that Jack hadn’t been with Donata. That would have definitely cut our chances of escape in half. I was deliberately avoiding thinking about my father’s whereabouts, how easily he could have sauntered into that room with Donata too.

  When we were almost back at Evelina, Luca turned to Nic, his voice deadly quiet. ‘I told you not to do it without me.’

  I watched the sides of their faces as they stared at each other. Nic could sense the rage festering beneath Luca’s careful demeanour. We all could. Nic leant away from it, pressing his head against the window. When he spoke again, he sounded like a little boy. ‘But Valentino said—’

  ‘I told you to wait,’ Luca said.

  Nic blinked at his brother, once, twice, and then said, ‘Why, though?’

  ‘Why?’ Luca repeated. ‘Why?’

  ‘Donata was a surprise. It’s not like I could foresee that.’

  ‘Oh, you think? I told you not to do it without me.’

  ‘I had it under control,’ Nic shot back. ‘She doesn’t need a babysitter.’

  ‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

  ‘It means we didn’t need you, Luca.’ There was a sharpness to Nic’s words. They hit Luca between the eyes, pulled his brows together. And it wasn’t true, I knew. Because I had needed him. We all had. I needed him even now. If he hadn’t been there, who knew what damage Donata could have done? Who knew if we would have escaped or not?

  ‘It was always supposed to be our mission,’ Nic added petulantly.

  ‘Right.’ Luca’s voice was dangerously even. ‘So, who failed then, Nicoli?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘If you were supposed to do it together, then I suppose you both failed,’ Luca said. ‘Do you want me to tell that to Valentino?’

  Nic’s face fell. ‘N-no. Of course not.’

  ‘So, what will I say, Nicoli?’ Luca pressed. ‘What will I tell Valentino?’

  Nic glanced once at me, his expression torn. ‘Sh-she was supposed to do it, but she couldn’t. I did everything I was supposed to.’ He flicked his gaze to me, apology written in the quirk of his mouth as he happily sailed me down the river of punishment. ‘Valentino will understand. He’ll give her another chance. With the Donata complication and everything …’ Nic trailed off.

  ‘You would have failed even without Donata’s interruption.’

  Nic huffed a sigh. He didn’t disagree, but the truth was, Luca was right. I would have failed either way. I wasn’t able to do it. ‘Valentino will understand.’

  ‘Will he?’ Luca said.

  Nic opened his mouth to respond, and then shut it just as quickly. He didn’t know. None of us did.

  Luca let the silence linger, let the panic surge inside the car, which seemed to grow smaller and smaller. Then, at last, he said in barely more than a whisper, ‘She wasn’t ready. She’s not ready.’

  ‘Her shot is incredible,’ Nic protest
ed. ‘Her aim is practically perfect.’

  Luca glared at his brother, a frown twisting his lips. ‘Do you really think I’m talking about Sophie’s aim, Nicoli?’

  For the first time, Nic looked at me like I might have the answer, but I was still dumbstruck, listening to a chorus of coward, coward, coward playing on repeat inside my head, feeling my own mortality hammering inside my chest. He looked back at his brother. Then he shrugged, once, heavily.

  Luca shook his head, turned his attention back to the road. ‘You are so unfathomably stupid sometimes.’

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  WAITING

  We were barely in the door when Luca, Nic and Dom were summoned to Valentino’s office.

  A debriefing.

  A progress report.

  About Donata.

  About me.

  I was told to wait outside, so I hovered on the stairs, chewing my nails right down to the cuticles. I couldn’t decide which would have been worse, having to sit inside the office with them while they walked Valentino through everything that had happened at The Sicilian Kiss, or having to wait outside on my own until he decided on my punishment for having failed.

  I tried not to imagine the fury in the boss’s eyes when he heard what had happened.

  I failed. I am a coward. I am useless.

  I am weak. I am nobody.

  Why did I ever think I could do this?

  I can do this.

  After what seemed like an eternity, my phone rang, and Valentino’s number blinked on screen. I pressed a hand to my heart and lifted the phone to my ear.

  ‘Come see me in my office.’

  Was this it? Was this how it ended? Where would I go now? What was the punishment for failing the initiation? No one had ever told me. I tucked my phone in my pocket and stood up, rolling my neck around to try and ease some of the tension.

  I walked slowly, listening to my quiet footfall on the marble floors, and imagining myself as a criminal making my way to the hangman’s noose.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  THE FIRST LIE

  Valentino was at his desk, his head tilted to one side as he surveyed me with those cobalt eyes. He looked oddly refreshed for the time of night, but then again, he hadn’t lifted a finger against any Marinos, so why should he be exhausted?

  Luca stood motionless on his twin’s right, his black shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hair swept away from his face. Felice was on his left, arms folded across his chest. He was still dressed impeccably, and I had half expected he would be in some creepy silk robe, à la Hugh Hefner. Nic and Dom were side by side against the window, perched on the edge. Neither one looked at me as I came in.

  I shuffled towards the half-circle of assassins. No guns on show. No guarded stances. The atmosphere seemed … relaxed. I was careful not to let it lull me. The Falcone masks were well-worn.

  Valentino pointed to the only free chair in the room. I had been here exactly four days ago, staring at a photograph of Libero Marino.

  I sat down. I looked at Luca – his mouth was set in a hard line, his jaw tightly locked. He lifted his hand, and brushed his fingers across his mouth. Then he pressed his lips tighter together, the colour disappearing from them entirely.

  Don’t say anything.

  I clamped my mouth shut. Valentino gestured to Felice, and Felice turned around and opened a cabinet. My hands seized up. I unclenched them. Why was nobody saying anything?

  Felice placed two half-empty bottles on the table. One bottle of Southern Comfort and one bottle of amaretto. He bent down, opening a cabinet in the bottom of the desk, and when he straightened again, he was holding six shot glasses, all arranged in a neat tower. He separated the glasses in silence, and we all watched him as he filled them up – first with the Southern Comfort, then the amaretto.

  Valentino reached for his glass first. The others followed suit, and when there was only one left on the table and all eyes on me, I pulled it towards me, thanking the universe for my steady hand.

  Were we about to drink to my eviction?

  Valentino raised his glass, and then did something totally unprecedented. He smiled at me. It felt, for the first time, like it was real. And it was undeniably dazzling.

  ‘I thought it might be fitting to celebrate this with a Sicilian Kiss shot,’ he said, nodding at the glass in his hand. ‘Considering what happened tonight.’

  We were celebrating?

  I looked at my shot glass, detecting the faint smell of almonds swirling inside it. ‘I’ve never had one,’ I said. Like it mattered.

  Valentino smiled again. ‘You did a brave thing tonight, Sophie. You dispatched Libero Marino, and cemented your loyalty to the Falcone family.’

  Wait, what?

  Luca glared at me.

  I let Valentino continue.

  ‘Now Donata will return to the city with your uncle at her side. The blood war has begun in earnest, and we are going to win it.’ I tried not to let my shock show. I just sat there, stony-faced, as Valentino lauded me. ‘Tonight, you became a true Falcone soldato, Sophie. So with the others here to witness, I want to raise a toast to you, and say, officially, Benvenuta nella famiglia, Sophie. Welcome to the family.’

  He lifted his glass once more, and the others chorused him, raising their shot glasses to the ceiling, to me, to the lie. The lie that Luca, Nic and Dom had told their boss. ‘Benvenuta nella famiglia, Sophie.’

  We drank as one. I tipped the shot of alcohol into my mouth and let it slide, warm and fragrant, down my throat. The fire burnt in my stomach, the faint flavour of almond still dancing on my tongue, and my gaze never left Luca’s, just as his never left mine.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  FALLING STARS

  It was just after two a.m., and the house was silent as I crept along the darkened hallway on the third floor. Before I could psyche myself out, I knocked on Luca’s door.

  No answer.

  ‘Luca?’ I said softly.

  Still nothing.

  After a minute of waiting, I decided to indulge my rudeness. I was too antsy to go back to my room. I was too nervous to sleep another night without talking to him, without trying to bridge this strange distance between us – especially after tonight.

  I opened the door, still knocking to alert him to my presence. The room was dark, the only light streaming in from the moon outside. I couldn’t help thinking of the last time I had been here, of how tightly Luca had held me to him, of how passionately he had kissed me. That seemed like a world away now.

  The room was much bigger than I remembered it. I had never really studied it before. It was about three times the size of mine, with a line of bookshelves, a desk, two wardrobes and a king-size bed. It was cream, with artwork hanging around the walls – contemporary prints I didn’t recognize. There was one with a melting clock, another one of a ship made of strange butterflies. The room was unexpectedly neat, and even the bed was still made.

  His phone was on his bedside table, the time showing on his home screen. It was 2.13 a.m., and Luca Falcone was nowhere to be found. The window was wide open. I peered out to where the roof plateaued before tapering off to a three-storey drop below. And there he was, right on the edge of the roof, his legs stretched out in front of him, his weight resting on his elbows as he looked at the sky.

  Luca was watching the stars.

  Seriously. This guy.

  I clambered out of the window, my knees wobbling until my feet found purchase on the roof. I slipped and caught myself on the ledge, cursing under my breath.

  Luca’s head snapped towards me. ‘Sophie?’ he said, bewildered. ‘What are you doing out here?’

  I offered him an awkward half-wave as I crouched in front of the window to get my balance. ‘Um, star gazing?’ I said. ‘Mind if I join you?’

  I couldn’t see his eyes in the darkness, but he tilted his head to one side. ‘Suit yourself.’

  I scooted towards him, crab-walking with my hands and feet.

&nb
sp; ‘It’s really not hard,’ he pointed out. ‘You can walk, you know.’

  ‘What if I fall?’ I said, horrified.

  ‘I won’t let you fall.’

  I finally reached him. He pulled his legs up, resting his forearms on his knees as he regarded me in the darkness.

  I mirrored his pose. ‘Hi,’ I said, feeling a little breathless.

  ‘Hello.’ Luca tilted his head back, and I looked up, too. The sky was clear, and blanketed with thousands of stars. It was beautiful out here in the countryside where there were no street lamps to steal the natural light, no distractions to block it out. It was bright, and magical, and I had never noticed before. Because I never looked up.

  ‘There’s a meteor shower tonight,’ he said. ‘Have you ever seen one?’

  ‘I’ve never even seen a shooting star,’ I said, still watching the sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of something. When I looked at him again, I found he was looking at me too. We were right next to each other, his fingers so close to mine that if I moved an inch, we’d be touching. It was the closest we had been in weeks.

  ‘Are you mad at me?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes,’ he said without hesitation. ‘I am mad at you.’

  A part of me wanted to ask why, but I already knew. I was a different person now. I wanted things he didn’t want me to have. I wanted revenge and he couldn’t stomach it. He couldn’t stomach who I was becoming.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said quietly. I didn’t dare look up at him. I could feel the heat of his gaze on my cheeks.

  ‘Are you sorry that you were prepared to go through with it tonight, or that in the end, you couldn’t?’

  I looked at our fingers, almost entwined. ‘I’m sorry that I’m not good enough for this family. I’m sorry you had to fight so hard for me, and this is what you got.’ I hesitated, waiting for my voice to stop wavering. ‘I’m sorry I’m such a coward.’