Reign (The Vendetta Series Book 2)

by Kris Anne Dean

  “Nobody’s killing anybody. The Judge will come through.” I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince myself or reassure them. Maybe both. By the look on their faces Charlie’s been tormenting them this whole time.

  “Come on. They’ve seen our faces. Even if he does come through, Carmine won’t let them go.”

  He doesn’t know. Charlie hasn’t had communication with the outside world while I was away. And I spent days, tailing the Judge to make sure he doesn’t deviate from his normal routines or tip off anyone about his wife and daughter’s kidnapping.

  I stalk closer to him, my massive build towering over him. I want to fucking throat punch him so he knows what it’s like to be afraid of a man twice your size, but right now he’s all I got. Matteo Deluca has everyone else searching for Carmine’s killer. “Who do you think knows more about what Carmine wants, a pissant like you or a high-ranking officer in the organization, like me? If I fucking tell you that Carmine doesn’t want them hurt then Carmine doesn’t want them fucking hurt.” He cringes before me and I feel a small amount of vindication for them.

  I shift away from him and kneel before my hostages, keeping my voice low and steady, “The trial has just gotten started. The Judge will dismiss it or get the case thrown out and before long you’ll be back home.” The woman’s dark eyes stare back at me and there’s a flash of calmness and acceptance in them. However fleeting that may be.

  I rise and head towards the door. I need to get the fuck out here before I do something I’ll regret. But before I do, I turn and size him up. “If I come back here and there is one hair on their heads out of place or one more mark on their bodies, you won’t have to worry about what Carmine wants because I’ll fucking kill you with my bare hands.”

  I walk out of the cold, dark room and lock the door behind me. I can’t have anyone escaping before I finish this. The sun hits my face, blinding me for a moment. I tip my head to the sky and take in a deep breath before lighting up a cigarette. What I really want is a drink. Something hard and mind numbing. That will have to wait until after I complete the job. I hail a taxi and tell the driver to take me to the courthouse. Perhaps my menacing face in the back of the courtroom will encourage the Judge to speed things up, if the fate of his wife and child isn’t enough motivation. Fucking degenerate.

  Chapter 17-Cal

  I lean back against the headboard and pull Brie into my arms. She struggles against me for a moment but now that I got my arms around her, she will not win this fight. Eventually she gives up and settles against me so her back is tight against my chest and her head can rest on my shoulder. I take a deep breath and inhale the scent of cherry blossoms rolling off her soft skin. I could hold her in my arms forever, even if I wasn’t trying to keep her from checking on the baby every ten minutes. “She’s fine Brie, let her sleep.”

  “I know but I can’t help it. She’s just so darn perfect. A spitting image of her father.” She angles her head and presses her lips to mine.

  That’s all it takes and my cock tightens in my pants and I release a low growl. It’s hard to control myself when she’s this close to me but I try. “She looks nothing like me but thanks for throwing me a bone,” I laugh and nip at her lips.

  “Speaking of bone. You have one poking me in the back.” She rolls to her side and cups my throbbing cock with the palm of her hand and I let out an even louder growl. I’m glad she’s got her spunk in the bedroom back but I recall hearing the doctor say we had to wait. This will be the longest few weeks of my life. I roll forward until I have her pinned under me on the bed. She licks her lips and teases me with her big brown eyes. “I might regret this but if you have to wait, then so do I. No hand jobs and no blow jobs but, when the time comes I will fuck you until you can’t walk.”

  Her eyes widen and a grin tugs at the corners of her lips. “Promise?”

  “Fuck yeah.” I capture her mouth with mine and slip my tongue past her lips, battling for control over her tongue until we’re both panting and aching.

  Breaking the kiss before we lose control, I reach for the nightstand drawer. That’s where I stashed the envelope that supposedly holds all the answers to Commissions request. I have been so preoccupied with Brie and the baby the past few weeks I haven’t looked at it. What could make me want to merge with the Deluca’s?

  “What’s that?” Brie rolls over so she’s laying on her stomach with her legs kicked back into the air.

  I shift so I’m sitting next to her in the middle of the bed and empty the contents. “I met with the Commission the other night and they asked me to consider a merger with Matteo Deluca. Before you freak out, I already told them no. They said to look at what’s inside before making a final decision. I have no idea what it could be.”

  Brie sits up and gathers the papers, flipping through the pages and scrunching her brow. “It's a contract, signed by Carmine Bianchi and Vincenzo Carracci. Who’s that?”

  “My grandfather.”

  “Didn’t Vinny say something about a truce between the families? I bet this is it.”

  “What else does it say?”

  Her eyes scan over the document. “It says the Carracci family agrees to move out of New York and turn over the territory to the Bianchi family. The Bianchi’s agree to a ceasefire and a onetime payment of one million dollars.”

  That’s a lot of fucking money but it answers nothing. “Does it say what the feud was about in the first place?”

  “No, but it says…” She bites at her lower lip and her hesitation makes the knot in my stomach tense even more. “It says both parties agree it is in the best interest of the families that there will be no further contact or acknowledgment of paternity.”

  The knot in my stomach morphs into a weight and drops into my gut. I jump to my feet and pace in circles, running my fingers through my hair. If they signed the truce twenty-four years ago, it could only mean one thing. “I’m a fucking Bianchi?”

  “That’s a bit of a reach, Cal. How many crew members had babies around that time or grandchildren? It doesn’t say which family claimed the child or if there even was a child born, just that one was conceived. We need more information before we jump to conclusions.”

  Brie has always been my voice of reason but even she couldn’t reel me in from the manic episode playing in my head. “That’s a lot to give up for a crew member and I don’t know who my father is. Whenever we’d ask, my mother would change the subject. After a while, Carra and I just stopped asking.”

  Brie wraps her arms around my waist and looks up at me with a calm in her eyes I wish I could match. “I know, but who benefited more from this truce? It might have nothing to do with you. Maybe it was Carmine’s daughter?”

  A long pause follows as soon as the words leave her lips and I wonder if she’s even grasping what that scenario would mean. “Then that would mean Angelo’s a Carracci.”

  The calmness in her eyes drown in darkness and her voice raises an octave, “Shit. No, no, no. That’s even more absurd. I’m telling you it’s someone else and my guess is Vinny knows.”

  I let out a deep sigh and press my forehead to hers. “Knew.” I remind her.

  She pulls away from me and heads out of the bedroom, tossing over her shoulder. “Maybe there’s something here that can tell us something. Let’s start with the boxes we cleared out of the nursery.”

  Since Vinny purchased the condo through one of our legal holdings, it was easy for Brie and I to take possession. She likes it here and there’s plenty of room to raise our family. Someday I might even walk to the front door without the painful memory. Being greeted by the smiles of my beautiful girls makes it all worth it. During her stay in the hospital, the guys and I moved our belongings over and cleared out a room for the Nursery. By the time Brie came home, I had it all set up. Vinny would want us to think of it as our home anyway and not a shrine to him.

  We spend the next several hours digging through boxes. Some of which hold memories that make us smile, some that make us
sad, but most are files from business dealings and useless paperwork that does nothing to shed light on our questions. Brie made several good arguments, but the Commission said I’d find the answer to why I should consider a merge with Deluca in that envelope. So why is it all I found were more questions? I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be looking for. By the time I find a key at the bottom of a box Brie is half asleep, sprawled out on the floor with papers all around her. I slip the key into my jeans pocket and scoop her up in my arms. Carrying her back to the bedroom, I tuck her in and crawl into the bed next to her. It’s several hours before sleep finds me. Brie is beyond exhausted adjusting to life as a new mom but there’s too much on my mind. Even when my eyes grow heavy they don’t stay closed for long. Abigail’s cry jolts me awake and I rush to her before Brie can wake up. I bundle the baby up, laying her down in her stroller before scribbling out a note for Brie and placing it next to the bed. I can’t shake the feeling I’ll find what I’m looking for in the safe deposit box that matches this key. Plus I need to have a few words with dear old Uncle Vinny, while Brie sleeps.

  ♥♥♥

  Parking the car in a nearby lot, I put the baby in her stroller and make my way on foot to the bank our legal holdings use. When I enter the bank lobby I spot the perfect teller to help. I’ve made deposits with her before, so she knows my face and smiles from her place behind the large counter. She’s usually sitting on a stool so I never noticed how short she was but this morning she’s standing. She’s barely tall enough to see over the top and I can hardly see her face.

  I plaster a charming smile on my face and wink in her direction when it's my turn to approach the counter. “Good morning, Mrs. Wilson, how’s my favorite bank teller this morning?”

  She raises up on her toes edging the countertop to see the baby. Her grin stretches from ear to ear. “I’m doing well for a woman my age, Mr. Carracci. Who is it we have here?”

  “This is my daughter Abigail, and she’s every bit as beautiful as her mother but,” I lean in closer attempting to charm the old gal, “they can’t hold a candle to you.”

  Her pale face turns a light shade of pink and she swats her hand in the air like she was brushing away my compliment. “Oh stop. What is it I can do for you today?”

  I pull the key from my pocket, turning it over in my fingers and show it to her. “I was hoping you could tell me if this key opens one of your safe deposit boxes.”

  Her smile drops and the wrinkle lines on her forehead draw inward. “Now I can’t just go giving out that kind of information. I’m sure you understand.”

  I lean in and whisper at a level only she can hear, “I do, but the thing is my Uncle Vinny passed away and there are important papers in there I need to get his affairs in order. I just can’t seem to remember where he said the box was at.”

  Her eyes dart across the large lobby, scanning the movements of her coworkers. “I heard about the accident on the news. What a horrible tragedy. He was such a kind man.” Reluctantly she taps the keys on her computer. “It says here there is a box in his name. I’m not supposed to do this, so don’t tell anyone.”

  “The secret’s safe with me.” I wink again and follow her across the marble floors towards the back and through the first set of iron bars and then through another. Once locked inside she takes the key from my hand and climbs up onto a stepladder. She inserts the small key into the lock but her frail hand struggles to turn the key. I let out an exasperated sigh. The key doesn’t fit. Did I really think it could be this easy?

  Suddenly it gives, and she slides the box out. I reach up and catch the heavy metal box before it falls to the floor and help her down the ladder with my other hand. I try to hide the shit-eating grin threatening to take control of my face and follow her into a small room off the vault where I can view the contents in private. The room is too small for the stroller so I let her fuss over the baby, while I check it out.

  There’s only three envelopes inside. The first one I open is an investment statement for an overseas bank account in mine and Carra’s names. It has a startup balance of nearly a million dollars. The same amount of the payoff and executed around the same time. My mouth falls open when I notice the balance has grown to an obscene amount with a whole lot of zeros. I switch my attention to the second envelope. My heart beats fast against my chest and my eyes widen as I scan the enclosed documents. It was this easy, like Vinny led me here himself. Did he want me to find it? I wonder if it was hard to keep the lid on such a big secret all these years and who benefited the most. I’m about to close the lid when I remember the third envelope. I pick it up and turn it over in my hands. The sealed white envelope is thick and has Brie’s name scrolled on the front in a handwriting I don’t recognize. A part of me wants to open it, to see what’s inside, but the other part wants to respect her right to privacy. Whatever’s inside can’t hold a candle to the secret he left me with. I tuck the envelopes into my jacket pocket and close the box. I swallow hard, despite my dry mouth and it’s suddenly hot in this tiny space. I need air.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Wilson,” I toss over my shoulder as I grab the baby stroller and hightail it out of the bank before anyone realizes I shouldn’t be there.

  I burst through the double glass doors and out onto the busy city street. People rush past busy with their own lives. Carrying the weight of their own secrets. Everyone has something to hide, right?

  When I reach the car, I load the baby and the stroller into the car which is no easy task and climb into the driver’s seat. The engine rumbles when I turn the key. I lean back into the leather seats of my mint condition Camaro and let the vibrations, as I shift gears, mask the trembling of my limbs. I waste no time getting out of the city. I cruise across the bridge leaving the noise behind. I gaze straight ahead, stroking the wheel, embracing the power of the car as I open it up on the empty road. If it wasn’t for the baby in the backseat, I’d be blowing through the stoplights and topping out at max speed. Preferably on my motorcycle. Riding is cathartic, the open road and wind, feeling the rumble of its power under me. My car is second best with equally magnificent power. I need the release over the emotions threatening to overtake me right now.

  My breathing slows and the tremors lesson as I pull into the cemetery. It’s quiet and peaceful regardless of my mood. I know Vinny can’t answer but the need to talk to him about this, claws at me anyway. Luckily only one other car is in the parking lot, which means I have plenty of privacy to let him have it. I breathe deeply and focus on unloading the stroller.

  I’m capable of many things but opening this stroller, right now, is not one of them. Fuck it.

  I carry Abigail in her infant carrier, being careful not to shake her as I trudge down the path toward the gravesite. A mound of fresh dirt covers the hole we lowered Vinny into just a few weeks earlier. My heart sinks. Everything about this is wrong. Vinny six feet under from where I stand. Learning this secret that may tear my carefully crafted life apart. My gaze falls on two figures talking quietly a few plots down so I settle to the right of the grave and place the carrier next to me in the shade of the tall oak tree. I kneel beside Vinny’s grave and let the tears fall. The emotions I’ve bundled up inside, trying to be the pillar of strength overwhelms me. I swear I’ve cycled through all five stages of grief since I’ve gotten here.

  Abigail’s cry jerks me out of the zone I’m in. I reach out to rock her but to my surprise she’s not there. A sudden burst of pain in my head causes me to fall forward. I catch myself from landing on my face in the dirt with my outreached hands and turn my throbbing head towards her cry. I fight through the throbbing in my head. I have to get to my daughter. Somehow I manage to get up despite the pain. I run towards the person fleeing with Abigail in the carrier cradled in front of them. The baggy clothes and the baseball hat they’re wearing prevent me from getting a better look. I pick up my speed and close in on them but before I can grab them a searing pain radiates through my head slowing me down. Warm blood soaks
my hair but I take a few steps and then a few more. My head is spinning and I fall to my knees again. When I take another blow to the back of the head, I drop to the ground like a weight. My vision fades to black as Abigail gets further and further out of view.

  Chapter 18- Angelo

  I adjust my tie and smooth out the creases the bus ride left in my otherwise pressed suit. My family and many others who prefer to see me hang for my crimes pack the courtroom. But the one I expect to see hasn’t shown even once during the trial. A smile tugs at my lips, there could only be one reason for Brie to not be here. She’s had the baby.

  The bailiff, in his cheap brown uniform, enters through the side door and everyone stands at attention. He calls the room to order, “All rise. The Court of New York is now in session, the Honorable Judge Winehold presiding.”

  Everyone remains standing until the judge enters and takes his seat on the bench. His eyes are especially dull today, another sleepless night I assume. I force myself to remain stone faced. Seemingly expressionless despite the growing frustration with this circus. This nonsense should have ended days ago and if the Judge cares at all about his family, today I’ll walk out of here a free man. With Carmine gone, dear old dad is leading the family and I can’t be sure which side of the courtroom he prefers to be on but last I heard Franco was handling the hostages and his loyalty to me runs deep.

  “Everyone but the plaintiff may be seated,” the Judge says banging his gavel to give the illusion of control over the room.

  I tug firmly on my suit jacket straightening it in the front and hold my eyes towards the man that holds my fate and his family’s in his hands.

  His voice is confident despite refusing to make eye contact with me. “After careful deliberation, I have accepted the plaintiff’s motion for dismissal of this case on the grounds of prosecutorial misconduct.”

  The courtroom erupts in a mixture of rumblings and cheers.