Dynasty

by Jen Davis et al.

  Giovanni glanced at me, and so did Tatum. Her eyes spoke volumes, displaying equal parts bravery and terror. If I was able to spare her what was about to happen, I would. I would do anything, give anything, if it meant keeping her away from what awaited us behind those doors. But there was no other way. We needed to face these demons…together.

  I broke eye contact with her and looked up at Giovanni. I nodded, and he opened the doors.

  Chapter 25

  Tatum

  The second those doors opened, everything around me went mute. All I heard was the wild beating of my heart resonating through my head. I didn’t know if I would walk out of this dining hall alive. And as I stared at all the faces in front of me, there was one face in particular that I sought out. Hers. Mrs. Fattore.

  Sitting in the middle of the long table, flanked by Vico and other men I didn’t recognize, my confidence momentarily left me. Surrounded by all these powerful men, she looked invincible, and even though I had faith in Castello for a moment, that was no longer the case. This woman wanted blood, and blood was what she was going to get…today.

  Giovanni stepped in, but I couldn’t move. My body was frozen, like when Nicollo had his disgusting body all over mine, my mind no longer registering anything but red and the hatred that seemed to emanate from almost everyone in the room.

  A soft hand touched the curve of my spine, and his scent surrounded me. “This has to be done, little mouse. You need to walk inside.”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, forcing myself to be the little mouse who obeyed. “Yes…sir.” I heard him suck in a breath, and I walked.

  Vico got up, one eye swollen shut. “Finally decided to be a man, hey?”

  Castello snorted. “How’s the eye, little brother?”

  The way Vico’s face hardened, his glare shooting daggers at Castello’s forehead, I was ninety-nine percent sure this gathering wouldn’t last five minutes without bloodshed.

  Castello’s mother got up from her chair. “What have you done, son?”

  “All I want is the truth.”

  “And I told you the truth.”

  Castello walked forward all along the table to where Uncle Gino was sitting. “The thing is, Mother, I don’t believe a word you told me.”

  Her glare shot to me. “This is your doing. One son wasn’t enough for you? You had to go stick your manipulative claws into Castello as well.”

  “You’re one to talk.” Everyone’s eyes darted toward where Uncle Gino sat. “You’ve been manipulating this family for years, and finally someone is starting to see you for who and what you really are.” He shrugged. “Pity it had to be your son, your own flesh and blood.”

  “How dare you? Are you not my husband’s brother?”

  Uncle Gino stood from his seat. “I was his brother. But he’s dead, and it’s a shame he’s not here to witness this, to finally see what evil runs through your veins.”

  She sat back down, and I looked over to Castello. He was standing tall, proud, confident, but I saw the sadness in his eyes as he stared at his mother. No matter who she was or what she had done, she still remained his mother.

  “Castello,” she started, “it is clear our family has been torn apart by your actions, but you still have a chance to fix it. This wretched woman needs to be buried, tonight.”

  My heart stopped, and my stomach felt like it had been filled with concrete.

  Castello walked back to me, putting himself between me and his mother, shielding me from her hateful gaze. “We have a deal with William Linscott, and I intend to keep that deal. When he hands himself over to us tomorrow, I will send Tatum home, as per my word.”

  What the hell was he talking about? And why did my stomach clench when he said he’d be sending me home? That was what I wanted, right? To go home, to get away from him?

  I moved closer. “Castello, what—”

  He lifted a hand, silencing me like I was nothing more than a goddamn slave, and it stung more than it should have, especially after what I just heard.

  His mother smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “That was not part of the plan, son.”

  “It is now.”

  This time Vico spoke up. “You are choosing this whore over your responsibility to your family?”

  Castello glowered his way, menace oozing out of every pore. “I am choosing no one. You want revenge against the person responsible for Carlo’s death, and I am giving that to you. William Linscott will hand himself over, and you will have your revenge. But Tatum will be set free.”

  “No!” His mother shot back up to her feet. “Absolutely not. That woman will die along with her father.”

  “No way!” The words just left my mouth, and everyone turned to face me, including Castello.

  “Keep quiet,” he muttered under his breath so only I could hear.

  I ignored him and glanced at his mother. “You can’t kill my father.”

  “Oh, I can, child.” She smiled like she already tasted victory. “And I will, but you will die first.”

  “No, Madre. She will not.”

  Silence fell across the room. About twenty men went dead silent. Not even one breath could be heard. Castello and his mother continued to hold each other’s glare, animosity pulsing between mother and son like a lifeforce.

  “Vico,” she said with a sordid smile on her face. “Bring him in.”

  What? Who was “him?”

  Panicking, I looked at Castello. The way he and Uncle Gino glanced at each other with uncertainty, it was obvious no one expected this.

  Vico got up and walked with his head held high, his exuded arrogance nauseating me.

  There was a door at the far corner of the room, and everyone’s eyes were glued in that direction. The amount of fear that ran through my veins made me feel lightheaded, my knees weak. But when that door opened and I saw who stood on the other side, my lightheadedness was gone, replaced with an explosion of dread and confusion.

  “Dad,” I whispered, and Castello glanced over his shoulder at me, his expression carrying the same confusion.

  My dad was gagged, his wrists tied in front of him. Blood covered half his face, and he walked with a limp as Vico dragged him toward the crowd.

  Again, I looked at Castello. “What the hell is going on?”

  Castello stepped closer to his mother. “What in God’s name do you think you are doing?”

  “Incentive.” She smiled maliciously, victoriously, and I wanted to wipe that smile off her face with my goddamn fist.

  Vico dropped my father into a chair next to Mrs. Fattore, and when my dad saw me, he moaned and whimpered with the gag fixed in his mouth.

  I started to shake as new tears blurred my vision. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t handle seeing my dad like this.

  I launched forward and placed my hands on the table right in front of Mrs. Fattore. Castello tried to grip my elbow, but I jerked out of his reach.

  “Let my father go.”

  “I’m sorry, child, but I can’t do that.”

  “Let my father go, and you can kill me. I won’t fight you. You can torture me, kill me as slowly as you want, I won’t fight, as long as you let my father go!” Desperation clung to my every word while I tried to bite back more tears. Castello cursed behind me, but I ignored him. This was no longer about just us. His mother had turned the tables by bringing my father here, and even though we never saw eye to eye, I would gladly trade my life for his.

  “You see, Tatum”—she glanced from my father to me—“I can’t do that since we plan on killing you both. That has always been the plan.”

  My father’s blue eyes watered when he stared at Mrs. Fattore in horror. Me? My stomach had dropped to the soles of my feet, my heart pounding as if it wanted to break through my ribs.

  Vico smiled. “We never planned on making any trade. Your father had been put under the impression that we would trade your life for his, but that was never our intention…was it, Castello?” He glanced over my sh
oulder at Castello, and I turned to face him.

  Dark eyes bored into mine. “No, it wasn’t,” he admitted. “But things changed.”

  “Oh, nothing has changed.” Vico ripped the gag from my father’s mouth. “Tell them. Tell them who had Carlo murdered.”

  Sobs wracked my father’s body, his face cut and bruised from what looked like one hell of a beating. Blue eyes that mirrored my own stared at me, pain, sorrow, and so much regret clouding them.

  “I’m sorry, Tatum.” He swallowed hard. “I had him killed, but—”

  Vico stuffed the gag back in his mouth, and I no longer registered any voices, any sound—nothing. The only thing I heard was my father’s word, my father’s admission of what I had hoped like hell wasn’t true. All this time, whenever Castello told me about my father’s role in Carlo’s death, I didn’t believe it. I convinced myself they were all wrong. But now, it seemed that the only person who was wrong…was me.

  “I think the man isn’t done speaking.” Uncle Gino rounded the table to stand next to Castello.

  “Oh, he is,” Vico replied with a hiss.

  Castello glanced at Uncle Gino, then at me, and then looked at his mother. “Let the man speak.”

  She shook her head. “We heard enough.”

  Castello walked up, menace and conviction plastered on his hard face. “I said, let the man speak.”

  “I’m sorry, Castello, I can’t allow that. And this brings us to another issue.” She glanced around the room as if she was addressing the whole crowd. “I love my son dearly,” her stare returned to him, “but I no longer believe you are the right leader for this family, and neither does the majority of everyone here. The responsibility of leading and protecting this family is no longer yours, my son.”

  Castello straightened his shoulders, but he didn’t say anything. The look of defeat on his face spoke volumes.

  Why wasn’t he saying anything? This wasn’t a goddamn democracy. How could they just decide he was no longer the leader? He was the one who told me they had certain rules they had to follow. Surely, getting rid of the leader wasn’t so fucking simple

  Vico stepped right up, putting his face inches from Castello’s. “I’m sorry, brother, but you blew it. You are no longer in charge.”

  And then Castello smiled before laughing maniacally. “You think I didn’t know you would do this, that you would challenge me?”

  “No challenge necessary, brother. It’s already done.”

  “And I suppose if I challenge you, you will tell the rest of the family that I killed Nicollo.”

  Gasps and curses erupted. Shivers broke out over my body as panic flared up, threatening to burn to me to ash.

  A man I didn’t recognize jumped from his seat and yelled, “Where is my son? Where is Nicollo?”

  Castello still smiled. “Well, he sure as fuck isn’t here, Uncle Roberto. And you know why? I killed him. I put my gun against his head and pulled the motherfucking trigger. Go have a look. His corpse is probably still lying right there where I left him.” He turned to Vico. “Right, little brother?”

  Men stormed out of the dining hall, and it felt like all hell was starting to break loose. Castello glanced at Giovanni, nodding. And the next thing I knew, Giovanni grabbed my elbow and pushed me behind him, readying his gun…protecting me.

  Castello looked back to face Vico, who seemed like he had been caught off-kilter. “I’m sorry, little brother. Did I let the cat out of the bag too soon? Were you saving that card for another day?”

  Vico bit his lower lip, his fists balled. I was sure Vico would strike, but then his mother placed a hand on his shoulder, easing him back.

  A man came running back inside and whispered something to the man Castello referred to as Uncle Roberto.

  It all happened so fast, I hardly blinked. Roberto pulled out a gun, aimed it at Castello, and my heart stopped. I went cold, numb, my head blank as I watched it all in horror.

  A gunshot resounded, and I closed my eyes. There were screams and curses, and my heart shattered—broken into a thousand pieces.

  Please, God…please, God.

  But when I opened my eyes, relief flowed through me like the stream of living water when I saw that Roberto had collapsed, and Uncle Gino held the gun that made the shot.

  I was shocked at the relief I felt when I realized Castello hadn’t been hurt. There was a time I would have applauded anyone who put a bullet in his chest, but now I feared it.

  Uncle Gino lowered his gun, and every man behind him had their guns aimed to the other side of the room. The scene in front of me was horrifyingly dramatic as I witnessed one family split in two.

  “Now,” Uncle Gino turned toward Vico, “let’s find out what really happened, shall we?”

  Uncle Gino nodded toward a man on his left, and the man walked over to my father. My heart pounded, and ice filled my insides.

  The man removed the gag, and my father sucked in a breath.

  Uncle Gino walked forward. “Tell us, Mr. Linscott. Please tell us your side of the story.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Castello move slightly back toward me and Giovanni. I wondered if he felt the need to be close to me. Even after everything that happened, and would probably still happen, I felt the need to be close to him, to feel him.

  My father took a few more deep breaths. “Yes, I had Carlo killed. But only because I was trying to protect my daughter.” He glared in Vico and Loretta’s direction. “Carlo didn’t love my daughter. The only thing he wanted was to get his filthy hands on my money.”

  “Lies!” Castello’s mother shouted.

  “It’s the truth! He came to me with an ultimatum, telling me that if I didn’t give him two hundred million dollars, he would make sure Tatum married him. And once he slipped that ring on her finger, he would make her life a living hell while living off her trust fund.”

  Castello’s mother stormed forward and slapped my father hard across the face. “Liar!”

  “Loretta, stop.”

  “It’s all lies!” she shouted to Uncle Gino. “Lies, lies, lies!”

  Suddenly, everything started to make sense. The lies Carlo told me, the way he acted like the perfect fucking man, pretending like he had no idea who my family was. He knew how skeptical I was of people wanting to be a part of my life, thinking all they saw when they looked at me was dollar signs.

  My body went numb as all the lies and deceit came down on me like a rockslide of betrayal, and my mind started to spin out of control. Everything was a lie. Everything Carlo ever told me, shared with me, confessed to me was all lies. The pain I felt when I thought he had left was a result of his deception and trickery, all so that he could get his hands on my family’s money.

  Uncle Gino stepped forward. “It’s not lies, Loretta, and you know it. This was your plan, your scheme to begin with.”

  Deadly eyes, black with venom, glowered in his direction. “You son of a bitch. How dare you betray your own family?”

  “You are not my family.”

  Finally, Castello broke the silence he had kept up until now. “Why?” he asked softly, the question directed at his mother.

  Guilt washed over her like the Dead Sea. Everyone in the room could see her guilt, the shame that fell over her like a veil of black.

  “Your father lost everything. Everything! Because he was a selfish, greedy bastard who didn’t know when to stop.”

  Castello took another step forward. “What are you talking about?”

  “He gambled away our entire fortune on the stock market. He gained a new informant, a supposed insider, and because enough was never enough for him, he placed everything on the line because of the word of a liar, leaving us with nothing.” Tears rolled down her cheeks in angry waves. “Carlo and I had to act. We had no choice.”

  Castello pulled his hands through his hair while I struggled to breathe, trying to make sense of everything I was hearing. It was all too much—the lies being exposed, the truths being revealed
—I couldn’t wrap my head around any of it.

  “It’s true,” Uncle Gino said. “Finally, she speaks the truth.”

  Vico stepped up, placing his hand on his mother’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. None of this matters. The only thing that matters is that this man”—he pointed at my father—“is still responsible for Carlo’s death.”

  “Because he was trying to protect his daughter!” Castello yelled, his voice booming like furious thunder.

  “And I was trying to protect you,” his mother countered. “All of you. Your father didn’t give a shit while he gambled away our lives. I was the one who stood up and tried to make it right. And this is what I get? This is what I get for trying to protect our family?”

  Castello’s face was red and dark, his eyes burning. “You were only trying to protect yourself.”

  And then another gunshot.

  Giovanni pressed his body against mine, pushing me against the wall, and I could hardly breathe. But it wasn’t the gunshot that frightened me…it was the deadly silence that followed.

  My instincts told me I didn’t want to know; I didn’t want to see who received that bullet. Unfortunately for me, I peered from behind Giovanni’s huge body only to see my father’s head hanging down, blood leaking from his mouth as if his life was draining out of him.

  “No!” With strength I didn’t know I had, I pushed past Giovanni and ran toward my father. There was nothing but silence—or I just didn’t hear anything besides my heart breaking. My eyes focused on nothing but my father, tunnel vision steering me in his direction. I needed to get to him, to save him.

  And then she was there. The face of the devil appeared between me and my father, the glint of a gun shining from the sun beaming in through the windows, bringing me to a halt.

  I froze. She aimed. My life was no more.

  I closed my eyes, and visions of my father and me when I was little bombarded my mind. Laughter, happiness, and so much love. Stuck in that moment in time, I allowed myself to be swept away in all the emotions, to be there with my father for one more second. Nothing else mattered. This war, Castello, Carlo, my life…nothing mattered but that one moment.