“Shut up, Sully!” Mario yelled from the floor, blood running down his chin, “You promised—"
Gino cut him off with a solid kick to his jaw, his body flailing back in a heap at Kristine’s feet, causing her to flinch. He’d need to do damage control with her, making sure she knew he’d never lay a hand on her.
“That’s when you learned about the pact my Uncle Johnny and Saul made. If a Vitale couldn’t have Nicole Gallo, Emilio Vittorio damn sure couldn’t either.”
Looking up from an unconscious Mario. “Johnny Vitale was a pussy!” Sully shouted, his voice echoing off the metal walls surrounding them. “He turned his back when things got heated.”
“He was fucking shot, Sully. That’s a hell of a lot different than turning coat on your Family, which is what Saul did.”
“Don’t say that about my father.”
“What? Can’t handle the fucking truth?” Gino challenged. “Saul Mastone put a hit out on Johnny, then paid the motherfucker who shot him in the back with Vitale money.”
“You can’t prove that.”
“Watch me,” Gino challenged, eyes dark and his voice dead calm. “After Emilio came to Jonathan, asking for help finding out who was sending photos of Nicole to him, my father gave the job to Uncle Johnny and Saul. When Johnny changed his mind about killing Emilio, Saul decided to go it alone. He offered Morti Rizzoli money to feed him information, and for a while he did. When Saul upped his game, Emilio reacted and sent Morti and Nicole away. A few weeks into exile, Nicole found out she was pregnant, but forbade Morti from telling Emilio, never thinking she wouldn’t see him again. Fast forward to the day Johnny stumbled upon proof Saul was stealing money, the same day Morti was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer and grew a conscience. Uncle Johnny managed to get a call to Morti, warning him Saul sent men to kill him and Nicole before Saul’s hitman shot him in the back. Morti managed to get Nicole out of the house, but not before she went into labor. Not knowing who to trust, Morti called his sister, Margarita Rizzoli, who he’d financed to attend nursing school.”
Gino turned to Kristine, her eyes brimming with tears nearly made his knees buckle. “You would know Margarita as Beatrice Smith, the alias she’d adopted after she delivered you and swore to your mother she would keep you safe.”
Turning back to Sully, “Morti couldn’t take Nicole to a hospital, nor could he seek treatment for his cancer. When Margarita couldn’t stop Nicole’s bleeding after giving birth, she and Morti buried her in an unmarked grave on the family property. Margarita returned three months later to bury her brother. Morti had left money behind for Margarita, but with a little girl to care for, it ran out. Less than a year later, Saul was killed by a jealous lover, which should have been the end of the story.”
Shaking his head, Sully straddled the chair, waving his gun in Gino’s direction.
“While you were off at your Ivy League school,” Sully’s voice was wrapped in jealousy. “I was stuck here, doing every shitty job Jonathan wanted me to. My father came up with a plan to fool Jonathan into thinking I was the better choice to run the Family. He had me scanning clubs and bringing him the hottest girls so my name stayed on his mind more than yours. At first, I didn’t feel as if it was making any difference, but then I brought home Nina...”
“And Jonathan lost his fucking mind.” Gino finished for him.
A sly smiled curled at the corner of Sully’s lips. “He didn’t care she was barely legal. After that first taste, he was hooked.”
“Which gave you the opportunity you’d been hoping for,” Gino added.
“Not at first, no. At first, I was more focused on helping my father find Morti. It wasn’t until Mario came home asking for money to give to some bitch he was fucking to have an abortion. Saul refused him; said family, even the bastards, were important. It got me to thinking, what if Morti had a sample of Nicole, knocked her up or some shit. I did the math and figured he or she would be about my age. I had Nina create an account on social media, focusing her friends within a hundred miles of the last place Morti and Nicole were known to be. It took maybe three months before Nina found someone who we thought could be a possibility. I created a fake account, went to the page Nina where found her, and made a sexist comment which encouraged the bond. We spent the next year making sure my theory was right.”
Kristine silently cried as she listened to Sully’s tale. She’d been so stupid to tell Nina about herself.
“So you sent Mario to Kansas,” Gino began, Kristine’s tears fueling the inferno raging inside of him. “Armed with a syringe full of shit from Dr. Flynn.”
“How did you…?” Sully questioned, his face contorted until realization hit him. “Fucking Niko.”
“I’d love nothing more than to give that motherfucker all the credit, but the most damming piece of evidence came from Dr. Flynn over here.” Gino nodded to the man standing beside Nina.
With Kristine’s vision nearly clear, she looked to the man who’d been blurry earlier, a gasp left her throat as she recognized the man as the doctor who’d helped her find where to donate blood for her father.
“A call came into your phone from Dr. Feelgood over here a few nights ago, telling you Kristine had come by the hospital, just as you suspected she would. When my connection in genetics gave me the news of Kristine’s paternity, he also told me I wasn’t the first to provide a sample of hers. My only question is, how did you take blood from her without her knowledge?”
Sully smiled triumphantly, the answer fresh on his lips, but keeping Gino in the dark much more appealing.
“The paper cut!” Kristine shouted, her voice nasally from the blood caked in her nose. “My first day in the office, you had me sign a stack of papers, cutting my hand in the process.” Shifting her focus back to the man standing beside Nina, “And you were at the hospital, you showed me where to go for...” She trailed off, realizing her mistake a second too late.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Gino assured, as Nina rolled her eyes, moving closer to the man beside her. “Dr. Flynn got caught with his hands in an underage cookie jar, he’s been on the Vitale payroll ever since. Our money made the allegations go away. That is until he got the idea his balls are bigger than what they are by handing Mario fentanyl before he boarded a plane for Kansas.”
“How did you know this? I…” Sully trailed off his face contorted in anger.
Gino shook his head, dropping his chin. “The night Morty The Mooch was pinched, the chemist is also one of Dr. Flynn’s best customers. He reminded me of how he’d done you a favor by hooking him up.”
“That shit worked like a fucking charm.” Mario wheezed from his position on the floor, his regaining consciousness gaining the attention of the room. “I waited until everyone left the house before I snuck in the back door. That old bitch gave me a fight, but once I stuck her with the syringe, she went down like a stone.”
Growing board with the testosterone fest, Nina made her way across the room to stand beside Sully.
“And then she died, the end.” Nina waved her hand around dismissively. “Can we hurry this up, Sully? I—"
“Why, Nina? Have an orgy you need to get to?”
Wrinkling her nose, “No, that’s more your style.”
“Oh, I forgot,” Gino mocked. “You prefer sucking dick while Sully shoots the poor bastard in the back of the head.”
Nina’s eyes flashed wide, her mouth gaping open as she turned to Sully.
“Don’t act so surprised, Nina, Your DNA was all over my father’s cock. And while Sully covered his tracks pretty well: blocking the cameras, and assuming his prints wouldn’t be questioned, he neglected one minor detail.”
27
“You’re full of shit,” Sully tossed defiantly. “You’ve got nothing to pin me to your old man’s death.”
Gino shifted his eyes to Nina, “Maybe not. But I bet Nina does, don’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nina huffed, wrapping her arm around
Sully.
“And I bet you don’t know about the arrangement he made with Felicia. The one where he pins Jonathan’s death on you, leaving the two of them to live happily ever after.”
“That’s a lie.” Nina cried.
“Is it?” Gino returned his brow cocked. “Ask him about the phone call she made to him the night she found me having dinner with Kristine, the one you tipped her off about.”
“He was going to choose you!” Sully roared, spit flying from his lips, his face nearly blue with rage. “After everything I went through, all the ass-kissing I did, he was going to choose you.”
As Sully raised his gun, the sound of shattering glass filled the room. Dozens of men fill the center of the room, guns raised.
“You were told to come alone.”
“No,” Gino argued, raising his gun to match Sully. “You said not to bring my goons. Kristine is a Vittorio, and a motherfucking untouchable, these are her men.”
Twisting to the side, Gino slammed his body into the side of Kristine. “Hold on, babe,” He yelled as he began pulling the trigger in Sully’s direction. The momentum of his body pushed her chair on its side and skidded several feet. He’d worry about any injuries she suffered if they managed to survive this.
Kristine felt as if she was experiencing déjá vu. Her adrenalin pumped through her body, making everything appear to happen in slow motion. With her nose plugged, and the taste of gun powder in the air, she tried turning her head, but was trapped between the hard floor and Gino’s heavy body. Shell casings danced around her, as the popping sound of gunfire echoed off the walls. Closing her eyes, she began to pray.
“Hold your fire!” Niko shouted as he watched Sully’s body slump to the ground, a trail of blood flowing from the corner of his mouth and down his chin. Clearing the distance, keeping his gun ready, he approached Nina’s lifeless body.
Kneeling beside her, Niko placed his fingers to her carotid, finding no pulse, he reached up and lowered her eyelids. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I warned you not to play with fire.”
Gino raised himself off Kristine’s body, her now dark hair littered with dust and debris. “Talk to me, Kristine. Where are you hurt?” Pulling a knife from his pocket, he sliced through the rope binding her hands and feet, before carefully palming her face between his hands.
“My head is killing me, and my nose…”
Gino laid his thumbs alongside her swollen nose. “It’s bruised as hell, but I don’t think you broke it.”
Running his fingers through her dark tresses, he connects with something sharp, solving the mystery of why Sully’s car window was shattered. “We’ll get you checked out, but I don’t see any cuts.” Sitting back on his heels, “You scared me, not many people can claim that. When I found you gone and read your note, my world shattered.”
“I’m sorry—"
“Gino,” Sully’s raspy voice interrupted Kristine's attempt at an apology.
The couple shared a look before Kristine silently nodded for him to go. Placing a kiss to the corner of her lips, “I love you.”
Standing to his full height, Gino stepped over Mario’s body, slightly pissed one of Vittorio men capped him before he got the chance.
“Brother,” Sully coughed. “Help me, brother.”
Gino stood before the man he’d believed was his brother, now no more than a stranger who’d committed a crime against his Family.
“Can’t do it, Sully.” Gino shook his head, the emotion in his chest surprising him. “You killed my father.”
“But you hated him, I did you a favor.”
“You’re right, I did hate him. But I don’t owe you any favors.”
Grabbing his chest, “Please, Gino, help me.”
Reaching for the gun at the small of his back, Gino aimed the barrel at Sully’s head. “This is for Margarita and Nicole,” he swore before emptying the magazine into Sully’s chest.
“I didn’t want to be right, you know.” Niko admitted as he came to stand beside Gino, his gaze falling to Sully’s bullet-ridden body.
“I didn’t want to believe you.” Gino returned, as Vittorio’s men began picking up bodies. “Well, maybe about Kristine. I’m happy as fuck you were right about her.”
Nodding to his right. “Nina surprised me,” Niko admitted. “Never thought she’d get caught up in something like this.”
Movement to the left had both men raising their weapons, as one of Vittorio’s men held an ice pack to Kristine’s face.
“Go on, Gino, take care of your girl. I’ll make sure Sully’s body finds the bottom of the Hudson.”
Lowering his gun and handing it to Niko, “You leave Sully’s body to me. I have for plans for that motherfucking traitor.”
28
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Gino asked for the hundredth time as he held Kristine tightly in his arms. A gentle breeze blew a strand of her dark hair across her face, the sun highlighting the natural glow and pink cheeks left behind by the still chilly wind.
“Physically, yes,” Kristine admitted. “But I feel guilty because I don’t feel the need to cry with him.”
Word spread fast about Kristine’s parentage once Emilio woke from his coma three days after Sully’s death. Emilio checked himself out of the hospital when he heard the news of where Nicole was buried. After much begging from Kristine, he rested at home for three more days before boarding a plane for Missouri. He hired cadaver dogs to find the graves of both Nicole and Morti, then proceeded to pay a few officials to turn a blind eye as he flew home with their bodies.
“No one expects you to have feelings for someone you never knew.”
“Maybe not,” moving from Gino’s embrace, Kristine kept her eyes on her father. “But I can at least comfort someone who did.”
Running her gloved hand down Gino’s chest, the bright sunlight irritating the residual headache which had plagued her since the night Sully punched her. Kristine made her way passed the sea of mourners, dropping to her knees beside her father.
Kristine wished she had clever words, or a famous phrase to share with him, some measure of comfort to make today easier, but she didn’t. Instead, she did what her granny did for her when she was sad and wrapped her arms around him, laying her head against his, as the strong and powerful man was reduced to a puddle of sobs. Ignoring the bitter chill of the wind and the people standing, waiting to bid Nicole goodbye.
“I hate that you never got to know your mother, to feel the immense amount of love she had for her family,” Emilio confessed, resting his hand on the mahogany coffin holding what remained of his wife.
“Me too,” Kristine admitted. “I always wanted to know about my mom, but Gra…or rather Margarita—"
“Don’t,” Emilio interrupted his daughter. “Margarita may not have been blood, but she cared for you without question, which makes her family in my book.”
Standing to his full height, taking Kristine’s gloved hand in his, “I don’t want to push you into anything. Being my daughter comes with a mountain of privileges, and an even deeper valley of pitfalls. I won't lie to you and deny my wish for you to allow Giovanni to presue you.” Lowering his head, the conversation he had with the man in question flashing in his mind. “As a matter of fact, I’ve already given him my blessing.”
Shifting her eyes to the portrait of her mother resting on a gold easel, the similarities unbelievable. “He says he loves me, but…” Kristine trailed off, shaking her head as she returned her gaze to her father’s face. “The last man who said those words cheated and stole his way into my bank account. Yet I was willing to settle for him.”
“You should never settle, Kristine, not with anything in your life. Especially not with any man you give your heart to,” nodding his head in Gino's direction. “You already know Giovanni is no stranger to women,” Emilio paused, taking a moment to enjoy the hint of fear coloring the young man’s face. “If he says he loves you, then he’s telling the truth.”
Turning to look over
her shoulder, Kristine took in the man in the black overcoat, his dark hair tousled from the wind, and yet it looked perfect. For all the decisions in her life at the moment, being completely in love with Giovanni wasn’t one of them. She’d fallen hard for the ultimate bad boy, and this time, there was no settling.
“You okay with this?”
Niko knew the answer before he allowed the question to leave his lips. He’d known the Vitale Family for well over half his life. He’d been beside Gino when he shot his first gun, watched him as he came to grips with the first life he ever took and handed him the keys to Jonathan’s prized Porsche so he could do donuts in the driveway. He’d also watched the young, caring boy morph into a callous man when his heart was shattered by a cruel girl.
“I have to be, Niko.” Gino returned his attention to the wooden crate in the center of the trash heap. “Sully knew the punishment for hurting an untouchable the second he pulled his fist back to punch her.” He’d held Kristine’s hand as the doctor his mother had waiting at his penthouse removed chunks of glass from her scalp, sitting up all night with her as they waited out the time for her to avoid falling asleep.
“I know what is required of you to say, but Sully was the only brother you knew. Despite what he did, it’s okay to mourn his death.”
Once Kristine was deemed free from a concussion, Gino laid beside her freshly showered body, holding her tight as she drifted off to sleep before slipping out the door with Niko to retrieve Sully’s body from the Vittorio’s. Salvatore Mastone was a traitor and would make his way to the Underworld branded as such.
“He wasn’t my brother, Niko,” Gino bit out. “He was a mistake my father was too stupid to correct.”
Niko knew it was easier for Gino to be angry than to admit what Sully did hurt him. He’d watched Gino as he used the hurt festering inside him to remove Sully’s head from his body, sand the fingerprints off his fingers and pull every tooth out of his mouth, before tossing his body face down in an old crate, and shoving his head in the crack of his ass.
Leave Me Breathless: The Black Rose Collection Page 20