26
Massimo
I land a fist in this fucker’s stomach. He tries to double over, but my soldiers hold him up.
I already messed up his face. This is me trying my best not to kill his ass.
Act and show my wrath, then ask questions later.
And my, do I have questions for this little prick.
“Stop…” Jacob wails. Tristan gives me a stern look.
Andreas and Dominic, however, are on my other side and seem to be in favor of the beating.
What the fuck am I supposed to act like after that little display? Under normal circumstances, I would have popped a bullet in this fucker’s head right there in the church. Of course, I didn’t do it because of her… Emelia. And fucking fuck, Father De Lucca has never seen me kill before.
I wasn’t about to end this guy on hallowed ground with everyone watching.
Taking him out back is just a little better, but still bad.
“Stop? Really?” I roar and pull my gun. I hit him on the side of his face with the back of it. Instantly, the skin cracks and blood pours down his cheek. “You motherfucker. It seems like you don’t know who I am. Or maybe you have a death wish. You think you can just burst into my wedding and do shit like what you just dished to me and live to tell the tale? Fuck, no.” I get up in his face. He flinches.
I have to give this kid credit. Maybe he has more balls than me. After all, he did just declare his love for my wife from the rooftop, for all to hear.
“I don’t care who you are, Massimo D’Agostino,” he answers through the blood running from his teeth. “Kill me if you want. All I care about is her. This marriage wasn’t real. You took her away and crushed her dreams. She was supposed to be in Florence, not here on this day, marrying you.”
I hit him again, but this time, I hit him because he’s right.
He spurts more blood and starts panting but stares at me head on. I don’t know what infuriates me more. The fact that he loves my girl, or that he loves her so much he’s willing to put himself in danger and die for her.
“Think you’re brave?” I ask. It’s a useless question.
“I don’t care. She’s in danger, and when danger comes, it will take all of you. Your Syndicate won’t be able to do anything against the people coming for you. You will die, and I don’t want her to go down with you.”
“What are you talking about?” This fucker knows something. Something that made him risk his life to try and save Emelia.
“Find your own information,” he shouts, trying to kick me.
I take the kick so I can rush him. The guards drop him when I do, and I land a one-two punch in his face. I have half a mind to beat his ass, but I hold back. Jesus Christ, do I ever hold back. He can’t tell me what I need to know if I mess him up too badly. Instead, I grab his face and hold his jaw so he can stare me in the eye and see I’m serious as fuck and need to know what he knows.
He can act all ballsy if he wants, but we’ll see what he says when I break his fucking jaw off for pissing with me.
“Listen to me, you little shit,” I begin and grit my teeth. “You tell me what I need to know right the fuck now. If you fucking love Emelia the way you say you do, you will tell me everything. Tell me so I can protect her.”
It must be a miracle that falls on us, but his eyes soften somewhat, and he seems less adamant to hold on to information.
“Members of The Circle of Shadows are here,” he says, which is enough. I don’t need to look at my brothers to know they’ve tensed up at the mention of the group. “There was a guy. Russian guy. He was talking in a bar on the underground. I heard a conversation I shouldn’t have heard.”
“What did he look like?”
“Long black hair and a tattoo on his face of a snake, the fire crest of the Shadows tattooed on his cheek.”
Vlad.
“What did he say?” I demand.
“He said he’ll take back what you stole from him,” Jacob answers.
I release Jacob and narrow my eyes. What the fuck is he saying to me?
Stole?
Me?
I haven’t stolen shit.
“I haven’t taken anything from him,” I rasp.
“He seems to think so. He said he’ll take it back, and he’ll take pleasure in killing you, your family, and anybody linked to you when the plan is complete. He said you can look for him all you want. You won’t find him, but he’ll come for you when he’s ready.”
“What bar were you in?” I ask.
“The Crow. I’ve seen him there three times now.”
I bite down hard on my back teeth. The fucking bar is a place I’ve been to twice already since we learned of Vlad’s return. Nobody knew anything, yet Vlad had been there three times. Lies. They’ll pay for that.
“When did you last see him?”
“Last night. Miguel, the owner, was talking to him,” Jacob explains.
I stand and glare down at Jacob. He’s looking at me like he doesn’t know what to expect. My brothers are doing the same. What I’m going to do is completely unexpected.
“Get the fuck up and get gone. Don’t say shit to anybody. This conversation never happened.”
Now he stares at me like he can’t believe I haven’t killed him.
He stands up and continues to stare. “What will you do? You know those men are above you. They’re assassins who work differently. Too strong for even the syndicate.”
“Never mind about me.”
“Emelia… what about her?” His brows knit together.
A cruel smile lifts the corners of my mouth. “My wife is none of your concern. She’s mine now, and if I see you again, you’re dead. And so is anybody else you care about.” His eyes snap wide when I say that. The fool never thought of his family. “Count yourself lucky for disrespecting me and being the only guy ever to walk away. Now go.”
He’s definitely lucky. Lucky my feelings for Emelia are that strong that I couldn’t hurt him more than I did.
Jacob knows not to say any more shit to me. I watch him as he hobbles away.
I turn to the guards once he turns the corner of the alleyway and I can’t see him anymore.
“Get out of my sight and make sure my wife is safe,” I order.
Wife…
I have a wife now. And what a way to start our marriage, with another man telling the only woman I’ve ever gotten close to that he loves her. And this shit.
The guards move, and I turn to my brothers. They all look ready to kill.
Pa hung back to go home with Emelia. I wish he were here now.
“What the hell could Vlad think you stole?” Tristan asks.
“I don’t fucking know,” I answer. I can’t think of what the hell it might be. “I need to find him.”
“We’ve looked everywhere for that prick,” Andreas adds. “What the hell is he planning?”
“Whatever it is, we weren’t supposed to know he’s alive,” I say, swallowing hard. “Then Pierbo saw him. He knows we’re looking for him, and the reason we can’t find him is because of this plan. He has help. People who can help him stay hidden.”
“What now? If no one’s talking, it means they’re not scared enough of us,” Dominic says.
My blood heats. I already know the answer to that.
It’s always the same.
Be ruthless and heartless.
“I think it’s time to fix that, and we know where to start.” The Crow.
I turn and walk down the alley. My brothers follow.
Blood will stain the streets before the sun goes down.
I walk into the house with bloodstains all over my face. It’s late, bordering nine.
Pa emerges from the sitting room looking worried. I sent a message to him earlier letting him know what was happening. Priscilla walks out of the kitchen and stops short when she sees me, then turns back in her habitual way to grab stuff to clean me off.
In silence, I walk back into the room with Pa and take off my shirt.
“You okay?” he asks.
“No. Not a damn bit. I got nothing.” Nothing but the blood of the owner of The Crow on my hands, and a bunch of people who fled.
Can’t talk, run. I don’t blame them. Many would have been dealt threats on their families’ lives if they spoke.
“Stay focus, my boy. Focus on what we need to. All we can do is keep our eyes open and look around.”
“Yeah.” It’s ironic. I thought taking Emelia and screwing with Riccardo wouldn’t make me feel useless, helpless, or powerless.
This is the first time I’ve truly felt it.
“Pa, I can’t just sit around and wait.”
“No, of course not, but you can’t go crazy either looking. You have to stay calm and focus.”
I run a hand through my hair and think of Emelia. “How is she?”
Pa sighs. “Not good. I think you should go to her.”
“I will.”
Priscilla walks in with a bowl of warm water and some cloths and leaves us. I start cleaning off the blood on me. I’m going to take a long shower, but I want to see Emelia first. And I don’t want her to see me with evidence of death on my body. The first thing she’ll think is I did something to Jacob.
“I’m gonna head out. Call me if anything happens. Sorry for the shit today, my son.” Pa rests a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“Thanks. At least I know more than I did yesterday.”
Pa nods and leaves.
I head upstairs and gear myself up for an argument with Emelia I don’t want.
When I get in, she’s exactly in the mess I expected her to be in. She’s still dressed in her wedding gown, and she’s sitting in the corner of the room with her back against the wall. Tears have made the makeup stream down her face.
“Did you hurt him?” she asks.
I delay answering, which hurts her all the more. I don’t like hurting her, but what about me? How the fuck am I supposed to feel about Jacob? I’m not convinced she doesn’t have feelings for him.
Look at her. A mess for… what was he? A potential lover. I just happened to get there first.
“Massimo,” she cries. Her voice cuts through me.
“I didn’t hurt your little boyfriend, Emelia. I wanted to, but I didn’t. Instead of killing his ass for daring to piss with me, I roughed him up a little and sent him on his merry way.” I wish my voice didn’t hold so much emotion.
“Roughed him up? What did you do? What does that mean?” She looks freaked.
“He’s not missing any teeth.” She wouldn’t know how truly lucky her friend was, or she wouldn’t push me.
Her hands fist at her sides. “You are such an asshole. What is wrong with you?”
I see red. That’s the color I see before me, and it’s the first time it’s ever happened with her. I don’t know how she can ask me shit like that.
“What the fuck did you expect would happen? You think what he did was okay?” I throw back.
“No, it wasn’t okay. Of course, it wasn’t okay. But did you have to beat him up? He’s my best friend.”
Jesus Christ, I can’t do this shit with her right now. “Correction, he’s your former friend. You aren’t seeing that fucker ever again.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” she argues. It seems like she’s definitely forgotten how things work.
“Yes, I can. When last I checked, I own you. You are my wife, Emelia, and you will not disrespect me with this boy. We’ll see how you like it when the tables are turned.”
Her eyes go wide. I know I was an asshole for saying that, but right now, I don’t care. I tried to learn to be gentle for her, and it’s not working, so I’ll play hard.
“When?” she asks. “When the tables are turned, Massimo?”
Good… let her worry that I’ll cheat. But the fucking joke’s is on me. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t cheat on her. But she doesn’t need to know that. She can stew in her thoughts.
I’m too hyped up on rage and jealousy to be around her, so I turn and walk away. Before I reach the door, I hear something break. I turn back and see that she’s smashed a vase against the wall.
“Where are you going?” she demands, but I don’t answer. “Are you going to her? Gabriella?”
I walk away and close the door. Once outside, I hear her break down, but I keep walking.
I spend my wedding night at the strip club.
In the office.
I order a pizza and beer and watch classic films until I fall asleep at the desk.
The phone wakes me early the next day. It buzzes right beside my head on the desk. It’s Tristan.
“Hey, man,” I answer, trying not to sound like shit.Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.
“Hey, we got a problem,” he replies.
I bolt upright. My first thoughts go to Emelia. “Is Emelia okay?” I blurt. It’s a stupid question since I should be with her.
“It’s not her. It’s the kid, her friend. He’s dead.”
My mouth goes dry.
“What?” I stand, knocking the pizza box to the floor.
“Bullet to the head. Cop associate said they found him in the back alley of The Crow.”