Chapter 0007

LUCIANO

“You look pissed,” Pietro said, pushing the few loose strands of his hair back. “It better not be because of Belle. Father would know.” I did not speak. He looked at me as I stepped out of the car. The journey from Chicago to Toronto had left me completely exhausted. “You’re getting married to her sister soon, so focus on that. You’ve been fine for the past ten years.”

“You should learn when to shut the fuck up.” I glared at him and he snapped his lips close.

I was not in the mood for conversation, especially not after being snuck out. Rose had run away before I had woken up, without clueing me in on who she was. I wanted to talk to her and make sure she was okay with what had happened between us. Being the first man who had ever touched her so intimately, I did not want her to fear physical intimacy, just because I could not control my carnal need of having her.

I could have looked around for her. But, as much as I loved a good chase, I was mentally drained for it.

We entered the De Luca mansion only to be greeted by hordes of men lined up in the living room. Pa was on the couch, talking to his Consigliere, Karel Grimaldi. More like whispering. The moment Karel’s eyes fell on me, he patted Pa’s arm and my father straightened.

This is what I had hated about my father for ages, and I was sure Pietro felt the same aversion toward him. His secrecy had made our mother drift away from him. I had thought that being Capo would change that and he would start talking to me about business or whatever the hell he kept himself involved in, but that was not the case. He still kept a close connection to his Consigliere and conducted businesses behind my back.

Some people could never give up power once they had a taste of it.

“What’s going on here?” I asked with a creased brow.

Pa stood up, his height as tall as mine. A heavy aura surrounded him as he said, “Well, what else? Dealing with the problem of fucking Mexicans.”

“Cartel?”

He nodded. “Why don’t we just give them what they want?”

“That’s not your call to make.” I looked around at the men in the room and they quickly lowered their heads to avoid meeting my gaze. My eyes paused again at Pa’s and I added, “There’s no giving them what they want, and besides, I’m not fond of their ways of propositioning. They behave less humanly and more barbarously.”

“I agree with him on this,” Pietro chimed in. “They’ve been bombing our warehouses, killing our people, kidnapping our men and women, and stealing our drugs and weapons.”

“And they only want to associate with us for an open business with Outfit.” I sighed. “Now that the Vitales are with them as well, the Cartel would do anything to get Vitale to sign with them if they have not begun already.”

Pa regarded me for a long time and then stepped forward. “You’re not thinking about ruining the alliance with the Outfit, are ya?” I shook my head, gulping. He brushed a hand over my chest, pretending to remove dust from the collar of my blazer. “Outfit is a powerful ally. So, no matter what that whore—”

“Pa.” My tone was laced with warning, which only made my father snigger, but he did not cross me.

With a sly grin, he corrected, “No matter what Isobel Rossi has done, you’ll keep this alliance and marry the youngest.” Turning to his Consigliere, he added, “I don’t know what’s with these Rossi women. Our women would never dare disrespect or even disobey the men of their family.”

Pa was a vengeful man and a part of me feared bringing Fabiola into my life because of this. Now that he knew what Isobel had done, he would vent his anger out on Fabiola, even if it were only with his sharp tongue. I did not know her closely, but this was not what I wanted for my wife.

Karel gave me a sceptical look. “You’ve been in Chicago a whole week and you haven’t contacted my son once.”

I rolled my eyes at the back of my mind. Karel’s son, Rione Grimaldi, was my Consigliere and that was only because Pa had decided on it. Rione was good at his job, but what I hated most was his incompetence. He was still a young boy who had to consult his father about the simplest things. He would even inform him of the things he had to keep to himself.

“I was very busy. I had Pietro to take care of things should anything go wrong.”

Not wanting to go into any more conversation, I strode up the stairs while my brother stayed back to talk to Father about the marvellous union between Outfit and Cosa Nostra, and how the only woman I had allowed to mess with my thoughts over the years had gotten married to someone else.

I looked around the empty hallway. Ma did not like Made-men creeping anywhere near the bedroom chambers because it scared her that Pa looked at her every move. Pausing before the door to her bedroom, I knocked. The only reason I had decided to come here straight from the airport was this woman.

“Come in,” a soft voice sounded. I pushed the door open and walked in. Ma was on the armchair near the window, reading as usual. As soon as she saw me, she stood up from her seat and moved toward me to pull me into a hug. “Ah, Benito, you are back.”

“I’m back.”

She pulled back and shook her head. “I cannot imagine what my sweet boy has been through in Chicago.”

“Well, good that you don’t have to,” I said, grinning.

“I liked Belle.” I wanted everyone to just stop saying the same thing repeatedly. Having everyone feel sorry for me wracked my nerves. “But, anyhow, I am happy that she has gone after what she truly wants. Not everyone is strong enough for that, and she has found her happy ending.”

Of course, this was my ma. She would take anyone’s side but mine. I rolled my eyes as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my grandmother’s ring that Ma had given me during the promising ceremony with Belle. The emerald stone looked as new as it did ten years ago—the last time I had seen it.

“Oh, good lord! It has been so many years.” Ma’s brow furrowed. “She returned it?”

“She doesn’t have a reason to keep it, Ma.”

She nodded. “Oh, yes. But why did you bring it back? You could have given it to Fabiola.” She took the ring in her hand and inspected it. “She is going to be your wife soon, so this should be with her.”

“Not yet.”

“Why?” She lowered her voice and asked, “Do you not want to marry her?”

I bit the insides of my mouth. She had asked me this many years ago when Pa had proposed an alternative to keep the alliance when everyone thought Belle had died. The alternative was Fabiola—the surrogate bride for me.

“I don’t think what I want matters. It was never important, now more than ever. I must do what’s needed for ‘Ndrangheta.”

Ma gave a fake smile, one I had seen many times—especially when I spoke like Pa.

She rested a hand on my shoulder and said, “You can always be a Capo and take what you want. All Mafiosos do. Do not justify your cowardice as an act of honour toward your familia.” The mockery in her tone irked every nerve in my body. She trotted back to her armchair. “I have raised you better than that.”

Whenever I met my parents, I tend to forget why I ever showed up in the first place. Pa was least bothered to care for either me or Pietro. And Ma just... liked to keep herself away from us, because we were as much our father’s sons as we were hers.

***

“Have you heard?” Pietro asked, walking into the living room of my penthouse.

I had been sitting on the couch for hours since coming to my place from our parents. I could not stop thinking about Rose and wondering why she had run off. So here I was, with my laptop, searching through articles and different profiles of those in the Vitale Crime Family to get at least one hint of who she was.

I put the laptop on the table and shook my head. With a heavy sigh, Pietro sat on the couch and propped his legs on the table. “There was a bombing at the reception party.”

My heart leapt out, and my eyes widened. “Bombing?”

“Yeah. Sources say that someone from the Bratva snuck into the venue and planted some stun grenades to lure Vitale away from his men.”

“Is he dead?” I asked with an arched brow. I hoped he was. “Or wounded, perhaps?”

He shook his head. “No. Rossi saved his life.”

I huffed, rolling my eyes. This silent rivalry between me and Adonis would never end. Even long before Belle, we had this. We could never stand each other. There was no reason behind it, truth be told, just unreasonable hatred.

For a sudden moment, Rose’s innocent face flashed at the back of my mind. I worried about her, even though I did not want to. I wanted to know if she was safe, despite not knowing who she was.

I had to know her truth.